Free The Awakening, Zuleika and the Barbarian by Bertrice Small Page A

can," Josie said, slipping an arm about Marguerite's waist, her other hand stroking her friend's cheek soothingly. "It will be very nice, I promise you."
    "I think I am afraid," Marguerite confessed, feeling her cheeks begin to burn. The duke's organ was . . . was . . . much larger than Charles's had been. Was he deformed? Or had her husband's member been small?
    "You don't have to be fearful, chérie," Josie answered her. "César really wants to fuck you. I thought that if you did it with a friend encouraging you this first time, it would be easier for you. After all, you've never whored before, and the first time is always the hardest. You don't have to if you really don't want to, but waiting for just the right moment seems rather foolish." Josie's hand rubbed the back of Marguerite's neck in a calming fashion.
    "Would my tante object? Does she not want me to wait?" Sacrebleu! She couldn't take her eyes off the duke's cock. She was mesmerized by it.
    "Madame is just being kind because she knows what a hard decision this has been for you, but she will not be angry if you leap boldly into these uncharted waters. Especially with César, and with me," Josie purred. "I can see that you are curious." Her fingers began to unfasten the little pearl buttons at the back of Marguerite's bodice. Drawing the garment quickly off, she lay it aside. Then she undid Marguerite's skirts, and they fell to the carpet with a soft whoosh. Smiling into her friend's eyes, Josie turned her head and kissed Marguerite's lips lightly. Then she took the other woman's hands and encouraged her to step from the puddle of fabric, but not before she had undone the tapes holding Marguerite's petticoats to her corset.
    "Mon Dieu!" Marguerite cried softly, realizing she was now wearing only her little brocaded corsets, stockings, garters, and slippers.
    The duke arose from the bed, coming over to kiss the startled young woman softly. "You may go if you choose," he murmured in her ear. "Rape does not entice me, mademoiselle." Reaching down, he fondled her bare buttocks.
    Marguerite swallowed hard. "But seduction is an entirely different thing, eh, monseigneur?" she returned. His big hand was warm against her skin.
    He laughed softly. "Mais oui," he agreed, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones.
    "Don't you want to be fucked?" Josie asked. "You may take my word for it that César is very good at it. I will be here to comfort and aid you, chérie." Meeting no resistance, she began to unlace Marguerite's corset. When she had finished, she drew it off, crying out as she did, "Ohh, what pretty bubbies you have! Are they not quite the loveliest you have ever seen, César? They are so perfectly round, and will fit into your palms quite nicely." She took Marguerite's hand in hers. "Come along," Josie encouraged. "The bed is more than big enough for the three of us."
    Marguerite's eyes went to the bed. She swallowed hard again. She knew that if she decided at this very moment to leave Josie's room, the duke would not protest her going. He would bide his time, and Renée would be patient with her. Yet what was to be gained by waiting? She was either going to follow in her aunt's footsteps, or she was going to let Renée purchase that damned cottage in Brittany. And what would be there for her in Brittany? A respectable marriage? With whom? Some local landowner who needed an unpaid servant to raise his children? A retired officer with a pension barely enough to cover his own needs, let alone a wife? Or would she remain here in Paris and become a courtesan?
    "Do you know how exciting you are standing there in your little slippers and black stockings?" the duke asked her. He knelt and, unfastening her garters, rolled the stockings off her legs and over each foot. Then his hands closed about her buttocks, and he buried his face in her thick, dark bush.
    Marguerite's eyes widened in surprise. A small noise, not quite a gasp and not quite a cry, escaped her.
    "I would tell him to