The Duke Wants Her Curves: Taboo Historical BBW Forbidden Erotic Rubenesque Romance Read Online Free

most imposing, huge building’s I’d ever seen. I’d read about the houses of parliament and Buckingham Palace, and couldn’t really imagine that either of those famous buildings could be bigger than Skipton Manor.
    The coachman dropped me off right outside the main gate of the building. I gave him a warm smile, and slipped him the shilling that my uncle had pressed into my hand before I’d left, and turned to face the future. I was greeted by a kindly looking man dressed in a butler’s outfit. He smiled, but I was taken aback by the directness of his words.
    ‘I see that miss is not wearing the outfit which my Lord requested.’
    ‘Nice to meet you too,’ I said, a little perturbed by the man’s over-familiar manner.
    ‘Quite,’ said the butler. ‘My name is Alfred, and I’m the Duke’s manservant. I suggest that you slip out of your clothes and into the outfit provided before you meet the master, or it’s fair to say that the punishment will be swift and a little more stern than madam might be used to.’
    Punishment? What on earth was this old fruit talking about. Of course I wasn’t used to punishment. I wasn’t used to it at all, because there was no reason that a husband would punish his wife.
    ‘I think that my new husband will be quite happy with what I’m wearing, Alfred.’ He gave me a weary look.
    ‘As you wish, my lady.’ He motioned to the front door, painted a deep, green colour. ‘He awaits you inside.’
    The house was extremely well appointed. We walked through a grand entrance hall, decked out with paintings and sculptures, and found our way through a reception room. Then, after pushing open a large, heavy, hinged set of double doors, I saw the main hall.
    This room almost felt like a kind of throne room. The Duke sat, up a few steps on a small stage at the far end of the room. There was a red carpet which ran all the way up the middle of the room and ended underneath his seat. The Duke was dressed in his full regalia, with high, broad golden shoulder-pads crowning each side of his smart navy jacket, and a pair of the most polished brogues I’d ever seen adorning his feet.
    ‘Finally,’ he said. His voice was as rough and deep as I’d remembered from our meeting on the fields, and he seemed even more confident and cruel now that we were in his domain. ‘Come!’ He commanded me forward, and I started the way up towards his seat. I felt terrified in his presence, and as I slowly took the long walk up to him, he started to talk to me.
    ‘Briony,’ he said, his huge ribcage resonating with his severe voice, ‘I find it virtually impossible to believe that you would come to me like this, not wearing the outfit which I specifically sent for you.’ I trembled a little, and remained silent. I almost felt like a young girl in front of him. His authority was absolute.
    ‘Before I can welcome you into my house, I’m afraid that we have the small matter of your punishment to discuss. I gave you direct instructions through the coachman to wear the outfit that I graciously bought for you, out of my own pocket. It’s an outfit becoming of my wife, appropriate to your position as my plaything. However, you disobeyed me, your new husband. Is that the way that wives are meant to act?’
    I was so close to him now that I could almost smell him, his regal, masculine scent.
    ‘No, your excellency,’ I said, my voice trembling with fear. Why had I called him that? What had come over me?
    ‘That’s quite right. Now, I am afraid that I am going to have to punish you. It’s for your own good, Briony.’ When he said my name, he moved his legs so that they were slightly apart from each other, then he lightly tapped his knee with an open palm. ‘Come here. Come and lay your beautiful fat form across my lap.’
    I hesitated for a moment. Was this really happening? Was he really going to make me lie across his lap and then, was he really going to smack me? A horrible thought ran through my mind