The Reluctant Duchess Ch. 01

The Reluctant Duchess Ch. 01

The idea for this story came from the Hallmark TV movies that my wife enjoys. There's a bunch of them that feature a romance, usually between a woman, often American, and the prince of a fictional country in which most of the residents somehow speak with British accents. The couple overcome their cultural and class differences and of course, end up happy ever after. I took this idea, flipped the genders of the couple, and wrote a romance that is suitable for Literotica, but certainly not for Hallmark. The story is complete, and each of the seven chapters will be posted a few days apart. Thanks for reading.

Sophie took a bite of her chicken marsala, sipped at her glass of pinot noir and looked across at her dinner companion. He'll do, she thought to herself. Tall, well-built, good looking but not arrogant, smart, reasonably funny, and so far he made pleasant conversation and hadn't said anything particularly obnoxious. Not bad for a college guy.

And, he offered to pay for dinner. Not that she needed a free meal, far from it, but she appreciated the gesture. A possible keeper, if she had been in the market for that sort of thing.

She laughed at his modest, yet amusing joke, and continued eating. The restaurant that he had chosen, on the Upper West Side, was solid, offering tasty Italian food at reasonable prices. It was lively, yet not too loud, and was popular among Columbia students for a night out a couple of levels above pizza and beer.

After dinner was done, and the bill settled up, they headed out to the street. Sophie sensed Mark's hesitancy, as if he was thinking, "The night was still young, but is it too early to try to get her back to my apartment?" Sophie, who knew exactly what she wanted, turned to her date.

"Mark, that was a wonderful dinner," she said, her slight German accent turning the "w's" into "v's," "I live off campus, on the East Side—would you like to come back to my apartment and watch something on Netflix?"

Mark's eyes lit up. Certainly, he was interested in more than just dinner with the tall, attractive blonde, whom he had a crush on for some time, and he was relieved that it didn't seem that he would have to work too hard to get her into bed. While he thought about his hopes for the rest of the evening, Sophie fiddled with her phone.

"Calling an Uber?"

"Something like that. We need to wait here." Within minutes a large black BMW 740i sedan pulled up, and the driver emerged, nodded at Sophie and opened the back door, allowing them to enter.

Mark looked confused. "What service is this?"

In the lights coming through the windows from the street, Mark saw Sophie smile. "It's my car. Hans is my driver."

"Your driver? Really? What—"

"It's a security thing. Don't worry about it, Mark. Although I admit it is convenient."

They drove through the streets of Manhattan, and Mark enjoyed the feeling of Sophie leaning against him. She was certainly attractive, a little mysterious, intelligent, and clearly not a prude. He was lost in thought when the car pulled up to a brownstone on a quiet street, with an unfamiliar red, yellow and blue flag flying from it.

Hans opened the door, and Mark and Sophie emerged. It was a beautiful spring evening in New York, and Mark stood, looking at the building.

"This is where you live?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't recognize that flag—what is it?"

"It's the flag of the Grand Duchy of Klippenberg."

"Isn't that your last name?"

Sophie shrugged. "It is. Actually, it's officially 'von Klippenberg,' but I don't use the 'von.' I'm sort of a duchess. But I don't make a big deal about it because it really isn't one, and I don't want the attention."

Mark squinted as he looked at her. She really didn't seem much different from the rest of their classmates, except prettier than most. He appreciated her blond, blue-eyed good looks, and her slim figure that still didn't lack for curves. "I've never heard of Klippenberg."

"Most people haven't. It's one of the smallest countries in Europe. It's a long story. Which I will tell you later. Now, do you want to come inside and fuck a duchess, or do you want to stand out here and discuss European microstates?"

Her frankness surprised Mark, but also pleased him greatly and made him mentally kick himself that he hadn't had the guts to ask her out earlier. So, when Sophie took his hand and led him around the side of the building to a private entrance, he didn't put up a bit of resistance.

The door opened into a luxuriously furnished apartment that looked, to Mark, as if it should have been in a European palace. Of course, he realized that it was the residence of a European duchess, and therefore was appropriate. After he got his bearings, he noticed that Sophie had put down her small purse and was heading down the hallway and appeared to be unbuttoning her blouse as she walked, assuming correctly that Mark would eventually realize what was happening and follow.

Mark followed Sophie into a bedroom that was larger than the entire apartment that he shared with his two roommates, and featured a large canopied bed.

As she removed her blouse and tossed it onto a small sofa, Sophie turned to face Mark, wearing only her lacy bra, skirt and boots, and when she sat on the bed to remove the boots, she said, "Mark, what are you waiting for?"

Needing no more encouragement, Mark began to quickly unbutton his shirt while he watched Sophie sit on the end of the bed to remove her boots, and as she wiggled out of her skirt, displaying a matching pair of lacy panties, Mark hurried out of his shoes, socks and khakis. Sophie gave him an appraising glance and smiled, not only at his strong chest, but at the reasonably prominent tent in his boxers. As Sophie began to take off her bra, Mark approached the bed, and said, "Let me."

Dropping her hands from the bra, Sophie waited, as Mark kneeled in front of her and gently removed the lacy garment, freeing her pale, perky breasts. Mark inhaled deeply, enjoying her smell, before burying his face in her cleavage. He rested there briefly before bringing his hands to Sophie's breasts, squeezing them against his face, and using his thumbs to gently rub her hard nipples, and was gratified by the deep, guttural moan that rose from inside Sophie's chest. Before he pulled his head from its comfortable resting place, Mark smiled, realizing that they hadn't even kissed yet.

The first time that Mark kissed Sophie was on her right nipple, and his second kiss was on her left nipple, before he began to explore her breasts with his mouth, tongue and lips. From the way Sophie moaned and writhed under his ministrations, Mark felt comfortable that she was enjoying herself as much as he was, although the way that his hard cock was straining against his boxers was not so comfortable. Forcing himself to pull off of her beautiful breasts, Mark kissed Sophie on the lips, at the same time pressing her down on the bed, enjoying both the feel of her mouth and tongue and her chest against his. Sophie wrapped her legs around his hips, forcing his hard erection against her panty-covered crotch, and she grinded against him before pushing him off.

"I need you inside me now," she grunted, tearing her panties off, revealing a trim patch of pubic hair. Mark could see that her hair was damp, and he could smell her pungent arousal as he removed his boxers as quickly as he could.

"Um, do you have a condom? I didn't expect things would move this quickly, Sophie."

She shook her head, her shoulder length blonde hair whipping around. "I'm on the pill, and I'm clean. Are you?"

Mark nodded, "I am."

"Then stop wasting time talking," Sophie demanded as she crawled to the top of her bed, following her own instruction by not wasting time removing the expensive looking bedspread, and spreading her legs invitingly. Sophie turned off the light by her bed, but the ambient light from the street allowed them some ability to see each other.

Mark crawled onto the bed himself, and rather than immediately thrust himself into the waiting Sophie, buried his face into her pussy, frantically lashing his tongue around and feeling her juices covering his face. Sophie initially gasped, which turned first to purrs and moans as Mark's tongue, lips, and then fingers, worked their magic, and eventually Sophie reached down, pressing Mark's head against her pubic bone, nearly suffocating him as he pleasured her to a thunderous orgasm.

As Sophie recovered, panting, Mark wiped his face with his arm and kissed his way up Sophie's sweating body, gently kissing her hard nipples before looking at her flushed face, hair wild against the pillow. He kissed Sophie, and she responded passionately, while Mark stroked her gently. Sophie reached over and tugged on Mark's shoulder, indicating that she wanted him on top, and he willingly complied. Grasping his hard, throbbing cock, Sophie guided it inside her, where it entered easily and filled her fully. Wrapping her legs around Mark's hips again, Sophie forced Mark to press even deeper into Sophie, and he became unable to control his lust, thrusting faster and faster. Sophie unclasped her legs, and used them as leverage to thrust her own hips against Mark, who came with a grunt followed by a growl, but kept pumping into Sophie until his flaccid cock slid out.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, Mark collapsed briefly on Sophie, before taking pity on the smaller woman and rolling off.

Sophie turned toward Mark and pecked him on the lips before rolling off the bed, heading, Mark assumed, for the bathroom. She turned and said, "That was great, but save your energy, we're not close to done here."

Mark's head was spinning. He'd had good sex before, even wild sex, but he couldn't remember ever having sex that intense. As he caught his breath, he rolled off the bed, pulling back the bedspread blanket and top sheet, exposing the luxurious cotton sheet below. He waited until he heard the sound of a toilet flushing before moving to the edge of the bed, planning to follow Sophie to the bathroom, to clean himself up before what promised to be more sex with this remarkable woman. It was, Mark decided, the best first date he'd ever had.

*

Sophie opened her eyes and looked at the clock at her bedside. 7:42. Ugh, she thought, rolling over and seeing the sleeping Mark snoring softly beside her. A sweet guy, and a surprisingly excellent lover, she remembered happily, and definitely worthy of another opportunity, possibly even later this morning, before she'd send him on his way. He'd even be offered a ride back to his apartment in her car, an honor that not every man who spent the night with her had earned. Pulling the covers over her, Sophie turned away from the man in her bed, and tried to fall back to sleep. It was Saturday, and she had nowhere to be, and once Mark was gone, she'd have plenty of time to do her reading for class. Her last semester was almost over, and she was looking forward to a summer of fun, without responsibility, before trying to convince her parents to let her stay in New York after graduation.

In that hazy zone between sleeping and waking, Sophie thought she heard banging. She refused to acknowledge it, as she desperately tried to sleep. And then, there was a hand, shaking her and saying her name. "Sophie, wake up. Someone is pounding on the door and yelling in German, I think."

Shaking her head, she realized that the noise was not a bad dream. Someone was hammering on the door, screaming her name and demanding that she open up immediately, in the German dialect spoken in her country. She got out of bed, wrapping the top blanket around her naked body and headed for the door, well prepared to ream the fuck out of whoever was interrupting her so early on a Saturday.

"Who is it?" she screamed at the door.

"Herzogin, it is Klaus, from the Consulate. Please let me in, immediately, it is important."

"Please stop pounding on my door. You will give me a minute to get dressed."

"Yes, Your Highness, of course."

Sophie hated the honorific, but the consulate employees were well-trained and under strict instructions, no matter how many times she told them to call her Sophie. She returned to her bedroom. Mark was sitting up in bed, his strong chest bare. She wanted desperately to get back into bed with him and run her fingers through his chest hair, but realized that Klaus wouldn't have disturbed her if it wasn't important. The last time he did so, the NYPD was making inquiries about an altercation at a nightclub, but her sovereign immunity prevented any further problems. Luckily, her father, who knew his daughter's behavior was not always under control, had appointed her as a member of the diplomatic corps, and she made a handful of appearances representing the country, mostly ones where an attractive woman would be appreciated, and where good food and drink were offered.

"Sophie, what is it?"

"I don't know. I need to get dressed and talk to someone from the consulate. Stay in here, and do not come out." Despite her disinterest in most of the trappings of her title, she had learned, at a young age, how and when to use a commanding tone of voice, and Mark instinctively reacted to it. Sophie unwrapped the blanket from around her naked body, and rooted round in her closet for some comfortable clothing that she could put on easily, but which would not encourage Klaus, who she thought always looked at her a bit longer than was appropriate.

Closing the bedroom door behind her, Sophie crossed the living room to the front door, opening it. She was surprised to see Klaus, a short, ordinary looking man, standing there with his eyes red and puffy, as if he had been crying, and crying hard.

"What is it, Klaus?"

He bowed his head slightly. "You haven't heard, then, Your Highness?"

"Heard what, Klaus, and I've told you a million times to call me Sophie."

"About the crash, Your Highness."

Sophie's heart began to race, and she felt dizzy. This was not good. "Spit it out, you idiot, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Chastened, Klaus responded in a monotone, "The Grand Duke, Duke Josef and Duke Karl-Franz. Their plane crashed, returning from a trip."

"And?" Sophie responded, expecting the worst, but hoping for the best.

"All dead, Your Highness."

"My mother? Was she with them?"

"No, she had stayed behind at the palace."

Despite Sophie's strained relationship with her mother, she was relieved that at least one member of her immediate family still lived. And with that thought came the realization that, with the death of her father and two older brothers, she was next in line for the throne of the Grand Duchy of Klippenberg. As she grieved for her father, who she loved, and her two brothers, who she also loved (although she liked one somewhat more than the other), she realized that the one thing that she never expected to happen, never wanted to happen, and hoped would never happen, had happened.

"What were they all doing in the same plane? They're not supposed to do that."

"I don't know, Your Highness. I wasn't told."

"Fuck!" she exclaimed. "Fuck!"

*

Normally, Sophie enjoyed flying on the royal jet. The seats were comfortable, it was not crowded, the food was good, and the booze was unlimited. This trip was different.

She alternated between crying, for her father and brothers, and for the end of the carefree life that she had hoped for, reading the briefing material prepared for her, and speaking with the deputy Prime Minister, who had flown in with the jet, and the Consul. They were trying to bring her up to speed on the arrangements for the funeral, the coronation, and the pressing matters of state. Despite Klippenberg's small size and relative obscurity, there were still domestic issues that could not be ignored, and even a few minor international matters that needed to be addressed.

Sophie thought about her childhood, sitting in the palace with her doting grandfather, Grand Duke Josef, who regaled her with stories of her ancestors, brave knights, proud ladies and wise rulers. As she got older, the stories became more detailed, and more realistic, and between her grandfather, her father and her tutors, she learned the strange history of Klippenberg. It was founded by her ancestor Wilhelm the Brave, who rode into the protected valley with a small group of family members and friends, subdued the local population of farmers and herders, and began building a castle. A part of the Holy Roman Empire, and subsequent federations, due to a faulty survey and a typographical error in the Treaty of Vienna after the Seven Weeks War, Klippenberg surprisingly found itself independent, and thus was not part of the German Empire that lost World War I.

She knew, from family stories, that her great-great grandfather, Grand Duke Karl Wilhelm, recognized that to maintain its independence, Klippenberg needed to fly under the radar of the great powers, shore up its natural mountain and river defenses, and be economically strong. Her sophomore year at Columbia, she found an obscure journal in the depths of the library that referred to Karl Wilhelm as a visionary, and possibly the first modern European monarch, but also noted that no one noticed at the time. According to the article, it was unclear whether Karl Wilhelm was prouder of the first or the second trait.

Karl Wilhelm opened Klippenberg to international banking, with secrecy laws stronger than Switzerland's, created an early form of a sovereign wealth fund, and deemed that all citizens of Klippenberg would share in the profits of the fund, assuming that they met a series of minimal residency and labor requirements, which could be waived for disability or other hardship. Over time, her grandfather Josef and her father had expanded the fund, to the point that it was in essence, a large hedge fund. Sophie was aware that her father was considered to be a gifted investor, and oversaw the team of highly intelligent people hired to manage the fund.

And her great grandfather, Wilhelm Josef, helped the country recover after World War II. The Nazis ignored the country's independence and neutrality, considering it historically German territory, and easily subdued Klippenberg's relatively modest defenses. Luckily, Wilhelm Josef had been able to get most of the family's (and country's) tangible assets to Switzerland, where he fled during the War. There being little of interest remaining in the Grand Duchy, and no Jews, the Nazis paid little attention to the country, but there was still much to rebuild after the war.

Despite the fact that tourists to Klippenberg saw a country that seemed to be mired in the past, with quaint villages, picturesque farms, traditionally dressed herders, and small businessmen, in fact, the per capita personal income and wealth of Klippenburghers rivaled that of any country in Europe. This wealth also permitted Klippenberg to provide its citizens excellent childcare, health care, schooling and other important social welfare benefits, which made Sophie proud. As much as she loved New York, she never understood the American insistence on refusing to provide from its bounty for all its residents. Although not a member of the European Union, Klippenberg participated in both the Schengen Area and the European Economic Area, and by agreement, used the Euro as its currency.

Her older brother, Josef, had had an aptitude for finance, studied at the University of Mannheim, the London School of Economics and Harvard Business School, and worked at a large hedge fund in Connecticut before returning home to begin work at the Fund. Even Sophie, who thought that her eldest sibling was often an arrogant pain in the ass, knew that he was well prepared for assuming the role of Grand Duke. Josef had recently married Caroline, of course a descendant of a noble family originally from western Germany, who Sophie found to be blandly attractive, relatively dull and generally inoffensive.