The Dukes' Christmas Abductions Read Online Free

dark as the night, and as enticing as anything she’d ever heard.
Her pussy juices began to make their presence known to her.
    God,
stop right there. I am not gonna gush in front of a devil—or Mr. A. N. Other
dressed up as one. If only she could clench her thighs together, but of
course spread eagled as she was there was no chance. Vicky bit her lip in an
effort to control her body. She wasn’t sure she managed.
    “Please,
who are you?” Hell, now she was begging. She might sub as the mood took her but
meek and begging didn’t come into her remit. Ever.
    He
moved the candelabra to one side and the light shone fully on his face. It was
enough to set her pussy throbbing like a damn pile driver. He was everything
she ever wanted in a man. Tall, with short blond hair, dark eyelashes and
eyebrows and grey eyes that shone and sparkled like the sea on a sunny winter’s
day. Her libido jumped to attention, and the throbbing in her head decided to
give it a break and become more of a hint of a headache than a full on pain. He
smiled.
    “Victoria,
enough is enough.”
    Victoria?
No one called her that if they valued their body the way it was. It might be a
family name but Vicky hated it. Ever since the school bully had teased her with
‘Victor-eah, has gonnor-eah, don’t go nee-ah.’ He didn’t carry on with his
death wish words after she’d kneed him in the balls and added, ‘Bobby Mollock’s
got no bollocks’.
    “Victoria?”
The man’s voice hardened. “Look at me and answer me. What’s all this nonsense?”
    She
recognized him. Sort of.
    “You’re
the guy in the portrait I was looking at when…”   She faltered, swallowed and cleared her throat. Things began to fall
into place. Horrible, scary, that what the fuck is going on place.
    “God
I hate storms. Where’s Clo? And who was that guy who abducted her?” Her words
tumbled out in a rush. “Why have you tied me up, what’s going on and
Aghhhhhhhhh.” A flash of lightning and a loud clap of thunder made her freeze
and to her utmost shame and horror she began to sob.
    Shit
I hate me like this, but godalmighty I think it’s inevitable. Not in a scene in
a scene . At a sodding fancy dress ball in a bloody storm and no duvet to
hide under or cat to cuddle. I hate storms.
    “ I
hate storms.”
    He
moved swiftly. “Oh my heart I know you do. If you promise not to thrash around
anymore I’ll unfasten you. I was so scared you’d hurt yourself.”
    He,
dammit she needed to know his name, she couldn’t call him him all the
time, moved to her side. “Yes?”
    “What?
Oh right.” She remembered his statement. “No thrashing, though I might hide
under the duvet and shake. I...”
    “Hate
storms.” He bent to the ties at her feet and unfastened them with a speed any
Dom in the club she visited would envy. “So you say every time. Before you grab
Corso—the kitten,” he added evidently in response to her blank look of
query—“and head for the silverware cupboard and usurp the butler.” He repeated
his actions on her wrists and lifted her into his arms. “This time you have me.
We’ll shut the curtains and cuddle.”
    Vicky
decided she liked the sound of that except for a few important points she’d
just discovered.
    “I’m
naked.”
    “I
like you naked,” he said, unconcerned as her voice rose to ear splitting
screech-level once more.
    God knew
she’d probably have lost her voice before long if she didn’t calm down.
    “You
might, but I don’t go naked with someone I don’t know.” There, that sounded
reasonable, didn’t it?
    “You
don’t go naked with anyone except me or I’ll tan your sweet arse until it’s the
color of those curtains over there.” He pointed to the long, deep red curtains
that dressed the floor to ceiling windows, which showed the rain lashing on
their panes and every so often allowed the room to brighten up with lightning,
and dim the glow of the candles. “You’re mine, ma petite . Only mine. And
with me,