Breeding the Duchess

Author's Note: This is technically a sequel to my 'Duchess of Lust' series, however this is written as a standalone. It does include characters from that series, but you do not need to have read anything else to enjoy this work.

For those who have not read the 'Duchess of Lust' series, it is an erotic political/war drama, set in a fairly standard fantasy setting akin to the Holy Roman Empire of the medieval era.

This particular story is an attempt to write something involving a breeding/impregnation kink, and is fairly short and straightforward.

I hope you enjoy!

**

Duchess Sarya guided her horse to the top of the grassy hill overlooking the river. Smiling, she gazed over her shoulder at the rolling plains of her Duchy.

Ever since the victory before the walls of Fellhaven and her marriage to Lucan of Ravenmark, her homeland had been at peace. Trade flowed freely; she had forged new agreements with neighboring duchies and even her former barbarian enemies. Farmers tilled the fields, shepherds tended to their flocks, and fishermen plied the rushing waters of the lakes and rivers.

And yet despite the peace she and her husband had forged, she'd been restless over the past two months. Lucan had ridden back to Ravenmark to settle a dispute between two of his vassals, leaving her alone to tend to her own duchy.

Given that both of them were rulers of their own duchies, such absences had always been part of the arrangement. Over the first year of their marriage, they'd both flitted back and forth between Ravenmark and Fellhaven, tending to all manner of minor crises and ducal responsibilities.

The political necessity of those absences did not make them any easier to bear, however. Two months without her husband's touch had been a brutal trial to endure.

And yet the torment was about to end.

A smile danced across her face as she spotted the mounted column in the distance, riding swiftly across the ancient cobblestone road. With each step of the approaching horses, her smile grew brighter and brighter.

Wind rustled in her red curls as her husband's escort neared the bridge. Sarya whistled at the small band of Fellhaven knights she'd brought with her.

Together, she and her knights thundered down the hill towards the bridge, forming up a few hundred feet from the approaching riders.

Sarya's heart fluttered at the sight of her husband: broad-shouldered, sitting high in the saddle of his imposing destrier. His blonde hair had grown during his trip to Ravenmark; she squirmed in her saddle at the thought of tugging on those longer locks during a bout of hungry lovemaking. An eyepatch fashioned in the shape of a raven's feather covered one eye. Even after all this time, she still winced at the thought of the old wound that had stolen half of his sight.

The injury did nothing to dampen her desire for him, however, and she quite liked having a roguish, rakish warrior for a husband.

His face was stern and stoic as he approached, though she caught a familiar gleam in his one good eye.

"My lord," she said warmly, guiding her horse a bit closer to him. "Welcome back to Fellhaven."

"I admit I was hoping for a bit of a different welcome," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips.

"Me naked and waiting in our bed, perhaps?"

"Of course," he said, the ghost of a smile twitching into a proper grin.

With a laugh, they both dismounted. Before she could take a step towards him, Lucan broke into a fierce sprint, colliding with her a moment later. Wrapping his arms around her, he twirled her about. Sighing, Sarya breathed in deep the smell of him, not caring at all about the sweaty stench upon his clothes.

Her husband, her duke, her beloved...

"Originally I did intend to await you in bed back at the palace," she admitted once he'd set her back down. "But that would have entailed waiting at least another day for you. And I simply could not bear that."

"Neither could I," Lucan said, reaching down to cup her cheek.

"Come," she said, taking his hand. "The horses need water and rest. Let's walk for a while along the river."

When his eyes lit up with a hungry gleam, she tutted and tapped his chin.

"Not for that, my dear. Just for a little chat."

Arm in arm, they walked down to the riverbank while the knights tended to the horses.

Once beside the river, Lucan knelt and splashed water across his stubble-lined face, then wiped away the sweat from his hair.

"How did Fellhaven fare in my absence?" he asked. "No trouble from Jadewall or the northerners, I hope."

"A drunken baron from Jadewall did cross the border, confusing a village for one under his control," she said with a snort. "The debacle caused a minor diplomatic crisis when one of my knights damned near broke the drunken lout's jaw, but I kept it under control."

His good eye glowered across the river towards the Duchy of Jadewall. Though the realms were at peace, the rulers of Jadewall had long hungered for Sarya's lands. In time that hunger could shift to open war.

For the moment, however, the united strength of Ravenmark and Fellhaven kept the ambitions of Jadewall at bay.

"There are times when I almost wish you weren't so diplomatic," he said, picking up a stone and tossing it into the river. "On occasion, I'd rather handle a dispute with fists or blades instead of words. You're just too damned good at talking things out, though."

She laughed, knowing full well that it was a mere jest. Though Lucan was a seasoned warrior, he had no hunger for war; Lucan was as delighted by the peace as she was.

"And how are matters in Ravenmark?"

"All of the barons now acknowledge my rule: the last holdout finally paid homage. He even gave us three fine warhorses as a belated wedding present. There's still an irritating priest who insists that I pay more for the upkeep of his temples...that's a crisis I may need you to handle, lest I be tempted to bash the pious bastard's nose."

"Of course, darling," she said, running her fingers through his moistened hair and smiling. "And this hairstyle is new."

"When I don't have a beautiful wife around to impress, I simply get lazy in matters of grooming." He cocked his head. "Shall I see a barber before we return to the palace?"

"A barber? No. But a proper bath? Absolutely. I'll not have some road-battered ruffian in my bed."

Chuckling again, she crouched down beside him and ran her fingers through the water.

"And speaking of such matters...there is something I wanted to discuss."

"I assume you've devised a long list of wicked things to inflict upon me. The hungry imagination wanders, does it not?"

Indeed, Sarya had fantasized endlessly about all the things they could do with one another upon their reunion. Though they had dallied with other lovers prior to marriage, they had both committed fully to one another ever since taking their vows. Given the delicate status quo within the northern duchies of the Empire, the last thing they needed was a salacious scandal.

But monogamy with a husband like Lucan was hardly a burden. That wicked, skilled man knew Sarya's body better than any other lover had, and she in turn had mastered every inch of him.

"It is time," she said, her soft voice barely audible over the rustling of the river. "We need to forge a foundation for the future. For both of our dynasties."

Her breath hitched as she formed the words. Having children had always been inevitable for a woman of her position. Before meeting Lucan, it had never been a particularly enticing prospect; she'd simply seen it as a burden of ducal power.

The notion of bringing a child into the world with Lucan, however, set her heart and body ablaze. Any child blessed with his strength of heart and character would make for a capable ruler. She knew that a child raised under his stern but loving care would grow to be a wise and caring leader for their people.

"'We need to forge a foundation for the future,'" he repeated with a smile and a little wrinkle of his nose. "So formal."

He turned his icy, hungry blue eye towards her.

"Tell me what you really want. In the words of a woman. Not the words of a proper duchess."

Despite all of the wicked fun they'd undertaken together, the hungry fire of his gaze still brought a flush to her cheeks.

"You know what I mean, Lucan. It's important that we have children. We need heirs to eventually rule over both Fellhaven and Ravenmark. The longer we go without heirs, the more rumors will spread. Our rivals in Jadewall will see it as a sign of weakness for both of our houses."

"Believe me, my love, I am well aware of the political implications of the matter. But I want you to say it. To tell me what you

really

want. Not a request in proper, political language."

Gods, that insufferable and wonderful man...

Heat rippled through her cheeks once more.

"Lucan, I-"

"Say it," he said in a rumbling tone that promised wondrous punishment if she didn't comply.

Sarya licked her lips, her eyes drifting from his glaring eye down to his mouth.

"I want you to make love to me, Lucan. I want you to..." She took a deep breath. "To fill me. Again and again. To claim me in full. To make a mother of me."

Lucan tutted and shook his head.

"Still not quite there, are you?"

Huffing, her eyes narrowed and she gave him a playful swat to the shoulder.

"Fine, you damnable rogue," she grumbled under her breath. After another deep breath she met his gaze. "I want you to fuck me, Lucan. I want you to fill me with your seed. Again and again. Until you ruin me. Until..." She licked her lips. "Until you've bred me."

A wolfish grin spread across her husband's face. He reached out, clutched the back of her neck, and pulled her in for a hungry kiss. She melted against him, her hands settling against his broad shoulders as he nibbled on her lower lip.

"Gods," she murmured against him, breathless and yearning. "If our knights weren't just down the river I'd lie back and yank up my dress for you..."

He glanced over her shoulder.

"There's a cove just down that way. Out of sight, perhaps out of earshot..."

Tempted as she was, Sarya was determined to make their reunion truly special.

She tapped his lips.

"No, my dear. Let us wait until evening, two days hence."

He blinked and leaned back.

"Two bloody days?"

"It's the full moon," she said, still agonizing over the decision to deny herself further. "A holy time, in the eyes of the northerners. While you were away, I did some research and commissioned an alchemical brew that will help ensure a healthy pregnancy. According to the shamans and alchemists, such potions are more potent under a full moon."

"I suppose I can suppress my lusts for a few more nights," he said with a low, hungry chuckle.

Gods, that sound very nearly made Sarya change her mind about waiting.

**

The next two days proved to be nearly as painful as the two months of his absence. Being hundreds of miles apart had been torturous enough, but to have him so close and still be denied his touch...

Nearly every hour she pondered simply giving herself to him before the appointed time. After all, there was no reason a quick bout of lovemaking would interfere with the potion's effectiveness.

And yet denial could make lovemaking all the sweeter. The delay of those two days was but a tool, a means to tease and torment them both. A wondrous cruelty, not unlike the sting of his teeth upon her neck, or the clawing of her nails upon his back.

Thankfully there was a grand feast to welcome Lucan home that served as a distraction. In addition to the festivities, there was plenty of ducal business to tend to. Lucan threw himself into his duties, overseeing the garrison's training and the supplying of the northern watchtowers. No doubt he'd delved into that work simply as a means to distract himself from his own fiery need.

That painful temptation, however, did not stop them from sharing a bed. The exhaustion from his long ride and subsequent duties helped ensure they were a bit too spent for any lovemaking. Both were content simply to slumber in one another's arms for the first few nights.

Each morning, however, Sarya awoke with such a desperate hunger for him that she forced herself to slip away before Lucan could rise, lest she give in and ruin their little game.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of dull council meetings, the appointed moment arrived. Given all of her duties that day, she'd barely seen him around the palace, and had sent a messenger to Lucan to summon him to the gardens at dusk.

Emboldened and giddy with anticipation, Sarya arrived just before dusk to make the final preparations. She wandered through the flower-rich gardens for several minutes, ensuring that all of the guards and gardeners had finished up their duties for the day. Only once she was certain that she was alone did she return to the fountain at the center of the garden.

The fountain had been carved in the shape of a unicorn fighting with a two-headed wolf: an adaptation of an old myth of Fellhaven. After taking a few minutes to admire the wondrous craftsmanship, she laid out a large cushion upon one of the stone benches, then withdrew the two potions from her satchel.

The alchemist had provided strict instructions: the gleaming blue potion was to be taken before the act of lovemaking, while the darker purple liquid was to be imbued in the aftermath. In combination, the potent materials would ensure that her husband's seed would take root. The alchemical brews would also safeguard her during the pregnancy, ensuring that she and the child made it through the ordeal with few complications.

Shivering, Sarya ran her fingers over the little vials. There was, of course, a bit of dread and trepidation at the prospect. To bring a child into this world, especially a world so fraught with crises and danger, was not an easy decision to make.

Yet she knew that her council, her loyal vassals, and her caring husband would provide the best possible life for such a child. In time, the child would come to rule over the duchy, hopefully to serve as an even better leader for Fellhaven than she had.

And in time, Sarya and Lucan would bring even more children into the world, increasing the size of their loving family and further securing their dynasties' prospects.

Still tingling and trembling at the thought of allowing her husband to fully claim her, she removed her fine dress and laid it out upon another bench. As the cool night air caressed her pale curves, she slipped out of her silken shift and cast it aside.

Now fully nude, she reclined upon the cushioned bench to await her beloved.

As the gleaming moonlight danced across her exposed body, Lucan stepped through a gap in the hedges. He wore a fine dark tunic, tight riding trousers, sleek leather boots, and a long black cloak that fluttered in the night breeze. The entire outfit made him resemble a rakish but refined brigand; no doubt that had been the entire point.

Lucan stopped in his tracks, his blue eye glittering in the light of the full moon.

"I was expecting such a sight, you know," he murmured, staring directly into her eyes. "And yet...the lack of surprise does not diminish the thrill."

Somehow the fact that he didn't allow his gaze to roam sent a spark through her spine.

With slow, predatory steps Lucan crossed the garden, his gaze not drifting from hers.

Her heartbeat quickened with each step. By the time he reached her, Sarya's ears were ringing and her breath emerged in short, needy huffs.

Only when he reached out to cup her cheek did his gaze drift lower, his eye caressing every curve, every pale inch of exposed skin.

Lucan looked between her legs at the thin patch of red curls around her sex.

As he used one hand to undo his cloak, the other trailed between her breasts. The teasing path of his fingers stopped just below her navel, not quite drifting down to the warmth between her thighs.

"Hand me the blue potion, my love," she murmured, averting her gaze for the briefest of moments to look towards the vials.

He obeyed, tearing free the cork and bringing the vial to her lips. Gripping her wild red curls, he tilted her head back. Sarya's little gasp gave him the perfect opportunity to upend the vial, pouring the tart, cool liquid down her throat.

Sarya swallowed it all in a few gulps, shivering at the taste and at his domineering touch.

"And the other?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"To be taken after you've..." She licked her lips. "Given me all that you can."

"And that will be quite a lot," he murmured, cupping her cheek once more while his free hand unbuttoned his tunic. "I've been saving myself for our reunion."

She reached out to undo his belt. Staring up into his eyes, she gasped as she slipped her hand beneath his trousers and smallclothes, taking hold of the firm shaft that would soon breed her. Sarya's eyes fluttered at the iron strength of his cock as her fingers danced up towards the tip.

As his trousers slid down his legs, a little tingle erupted in her belly and spread through her body. Her skin prickled and her nostrils flared. The alchemist had warned her of the unusual sensations that would follow the first dose. The strange ripples brought a smile to her face, for it meant the concoction was working. The enchanted mixture churned through her body, preparing the way for her husband's offering.

Leaning back upon the cushioned bench, Sarya relaxed and watched her husband disrobe. Moonlight pulsed across his hardened muscles and a few faded scars. Some of those scars had been inflicted during the battle to save her homeland from the barbarians the year before.

Her heart hardened with old fears at how that battle could have gone wrong. The dread shifted to warmth and pride at the memories of all he'd done for her and her people.

"You've that look in your eye, love," he said, casting the last of his clothing aside.

"Which look is that?"

"The look when you're about to say something heartwarming and lovely."

"I will save such talk for later. For now, darling..." She spread her legs. "The only words I have for you are simple commands."

Sarya reached down, her fingers caressing over her folds and exposing the secret parts of her that Lucan knew so well.

"Prepare me, darling," she said in a firm, warm tone. "Make me wet and ready for you."

"You needn't have wasted your breath with such a command," Lucan said with a snort. "I was going to do that anyway."

Lucan sank to his knees.

Sarya's thighs flinched at that first soft touch. Her head lolled backwards against the cushions, her red curls splaying across the fine fabric as those scarred fingers danced across her pale skin.

Soft kisses flitted along her quaking thighs. Before she could growl out a command for him to get to work, that devious tongue flicked against her folds.

Months without his touch caused her to unleash a moan that fluttered through the gardens. The next firm lick drew forth a needy sob.

How many times had Lucan feasted between her thighs? On how many occasions had he driven her to maddening bliss with that tongue?

Sarya reached down, gripping the back of his head, finding that his longer hair was indeed quite fun to hold.

And it would be even more fun to grip those long blonde locks when he was plowing against her.

As those firm licks intensified, two questing fingers slipped deep into her. It had been so long since she'd felt anything but her own fingers inside herself...

Her back arched, her legs rising to drape over his firm, bare shoulders.

Bracing herself against the bench, Sarya tilted her gaze so she could watch him work, marveling at the fervent strength of his lips and the fire in his eye. Lucan growled against her: a wordless command for her to submit and surrender.