Simply Wicked (7 page)

“Yes, but . . .” Her hand slid lower and cupped his balls and the base of his shaft. His cock jerked as if seeking her mouth.

“God . . .”

She leaned closer, her breath warm on his flesh, and her tongue flicked out to catch a drop of pre-cum. He groaned and angled his hips toward her. She licked him again, the whole juicy wet purple crown this time, and he sighed.

“You do like it, then.”

He opened his eyes to stare down at her. “Yes.”

“No ‘but’ this time?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll keep going.”

She opened her mouth and allowed the first four or five inches of his cock inside her. The sensitive head caught at the back of her throat, and he tried to pull back, but her grip was too strong. He groaned again as she took him even deeper, sucking him while her fingers stroked and shaped his balls.

“Harder.”

He couldn’t stop the harsh command, needed more, needed something to stop him from worrying about how fast he was going to come down her throat. He brought his hand down to cradle the back of her head, to hold her exactly where he wanted her, not that she seemed to want to stop or leave him unsatisfied.

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Pressure built in his balls and at the base of his spine. His hips rolled with each tug on his flesh, pushing his shaft deeper, fucking her mouth with an eagerness he couldn’t believe.

He managed to mutter, “If you don’t want my cum in your mouth, I’ll pull out.” But she didn’t ease up, just kept her lips tightly around him and sucked hard. He began to groan with every stroke, tried to shove himself deeper with every grind of his hips until he finally exploded, leaving him breathless and frozen on the edge of the seat, his shaft still buried in her throat.

Anthony carefully pulled out and tucked his now limp cock back into his underclothes, buttoning his placket. While he adjusted his clothing, Marguerite wiped her mouth and resumed her seat opposite him.

“Marguerite . . .”

“
Oui
?”

“That was . . . very nice.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

To his annoyance the carriage stopped and his driver knocked on the door.

“My lord, we’re at my lady’s house.”

Marguerite stood and smoothed down her skirts. “Don’t worry about getting out. Dawson can escort me to the door.

Thank you for a lovely evening. Good night.”

She descended from the carriage so fast that Anthony had barely registered her request before the door was shut in his face.

He stared down at his groin. A woman had just sucked him off and he’d enjoyed every damned agonizing second of it.

Marguerite ran up the front steps and then the stairs to her bedroom as if pursued by the furies. She allowed her maid to loosen her gown and corset and then dismissed her. Finally alone, she sat at her dressing table, pulled out the pins from her hair and stared at her wild reflection. Touching Anthony had aroused her, had made her want a man inside her again. Shocked 54 /
Kate Pearce

by the eagerness in her eyes, she covered her face with her hands and took several long breaths.

Despite his initial surprise, Anthony had liked her sucking him. And she had enjoyed it too, had almost wished that he’d picked her up and shoved his cock deep inside her until she shuddered and shook along with him. Heat pooled low in her belly, and she was aware that her breasts ached.

She slipped her arms out of her dress and studied her breasts, sliding her fingers inside her corset to squeeze and pinch her already hard nipples. Would Anthony be gentle with her? His kiss had been more self-assured this evening, and his demands for her to suck him harder indicated that he wasn’t averse to a little rough play.

With a silent curse, Marguerite stood up and let her dress and loosened corset fall to the floor. How was she ever going to sleep, her body waking from its long slumber of sexual depriva-tion, her blood warm and flowing wantonly? And how was she ever going to survive in a society that expected her to deny her needs and wait on a man’s lust or interest?

She took off her shift and crawled into bed naked, enjoyed the coolness of the satin cover and the rougher caress of the linen sheets. Under the covers, she allowed one hand to fondle her breasts while the other slid down over her stomach to touch her already wet and ready sex.

Would Anthony like her body? Would he enjoy placing his mouth over her sex, licking at her swollen clit and sliding his fingers and tongue inside her? She moaned as she worked her clit with her thumb until she was gasping and sobbing and . . .

God, wanting so badly her climax made her cry.

Would Anthony enjoy that too? Marguerite rolled over onto her stomach and opened her eyes. She was probably far too inexperienced to interest him anyway. Just because he liked SIMPLY WICKED / 55

her touching him didn’t mean he wanted to touch her back.

Men were often selfish. And did she truly want to court such scandal by sleeping with him? He was hardly the conventional man she had imagined, the man she would eventually marry and live with in peaceful harmony for the rest of her life.

She smiled into the darkness. But she wasn’t planning on finding that particular man for years. She simply needed to re-store her confidence and slake that part of her nature that missed the physical side of marriage. There were ways to remedy her lack of experience, and she had entrée into the most unique pleasure house in England. If she truly decided to follow her body’s desires and enjoy sex, she was determined to be good at it.

Her gaze caught Justin’s portrait, and she suddenly felt guilty. Here she was, plotting to seduce another man without a thought for her dead husband. Would he hate her? Or would he be generous enough to forgive her for all her sins? At least this time, she was going into the relationship with her eyes open, with no uncomfortable emotions such as love to consider. This was not about marriage—it was about rediscovering her sexual self. Surely Justin of all people would approve of that?

“Brody. Now you’ve assured yourself that I have returned without harm, go away. I’m quite capable of putting myself to bed.”

“All right, sir, good night.”

Anthony waited until the door shut with a definite bang behind his offended valet and then sank down onto the side of the bed. Marguerite had sucked his cock, and he’d simply sat there like an idiot and let her . . . He groaned as his shaft jerked and began to fill out again.

He’d wanted to pull her onto his lap, open her legs and fill her with his cock until she screamed. Yet he’d done nothing but 56 /
Kate Pearce

take what she’d offered and given nothing in return. He stripped off his clothes and blew out all the candles except the one next to his bed.

But what could he give her? What did a woman like Marguerite want? He palmed his shaft, felt it thicken and lengthen, and sighed. One release was never enough, and, as returning to the pleasure house and Lord Minshom was not an option, his hand and his assortment of toys would have to suffice.

He rummaged in the drawer next to his bed and pulled out a thick leather cock ring, which had three circles to slide over his cock and balls with buckles to draw the straps tight until he achieved the satisfaction he needed. He was deliberately rough with himself as he encircled his balls with the leather and pulled the straps as tight as he could.

He was even rougher with his cock, sliding the thick leather strap home through the buckle until his shaft throbbed along with his heartbeat and pre-cum coated his fingers. The blood trapped in his shaft made the crown of his cock exquisitely sensitive. Groaning, he reached into the drawer again, found a flower-shaped pin with a short silver-wired stem and coiled it around the tip of his cock. As he worked his cock between his hands, the flower wedged against the wet opening and slid in and out, adding to the exquisite sensitivity.

He worked his shaft harder, kneeling on the bed and rested his forehead against the headboard so he could watch his flesh strain against the leather. He caught the glint of the silver pin and coiled wire gripping his crown, the heavy weight of his constrained balls aching and screaming with the need to defy the tight bindings and come. An image of Marguerite sucking his bound cock while Lord Minshom fucked his arse blazed through his brain, and he climaxed, forcing the thick jets of seed through the pain and into blessed release.

He fell forward, panting as if he’d run a mile, his cock still twitching and coming into the smooth white sheets. With a SIMPLY WICKED / 57

groan he rolled onto his back and carefully unbuckled the leather ties and removed the silver pin. His heartbeat was so loud he couldn’t hear the ticking clock.

Marguerite had sucked his cock, and yet he had no idea how to please her. Anthony stared up at the embroidered brown bed hangings. Devil take it. He’d have to ask for help.

6

“Is that you, Miss Marguerite? Are you looking for your mother?”

“Good evening, Judd.”

Marguerite smiled at her mother’s butler as he gestured for her to come farther into the warm homely kitchen of the pleasure house. In truth, her mother was the last person she wanted to see. Helene had a gift for knowing exactly what Marguerite most wanted to hide, and she had plenty to conceal at the moment.

“Madame is away at her other house tonight. Do you want me to send her a message?”

“No, don’t disturb her. I just came to see my sister.”

Her mother rarely left her business to spend time at the townhouse with her husband, Lord Philip Knowles, the twins’

father. The last thing Marguerite wanted to do was interrupt their evening together. Although Philip was involved in the establishment, she knew he was often frustrated by Helene’s insistence that they keep their marriage secret. And if she sent a message, Marguerite knew her mother would always come.

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“Miss Lisette was in the main salon with Captain David Gray.

Do you wish to go up to the pleasure house or shall I ask your sister to come down to the kitchen?”

Marguerite swallowed hard. “No, I’ll go and find her.” She hesitated by the door. “I don’t suppose you have a mask I could borrow, do you?”

“Of course, my lady. I’ll go and find you one. Do you have any preference as to color?”

By the time Marguerite was masked and following Judd up the stairs, her heart was pounding. One never quite knew what one might encounter at the pleasure house, and she had become such a prude. To her relief, the main salon seemed relatively quiet, the guests more inclined to relax and eat than partake in an orgy.

She saw Lisette’s blond head at one of the tables and headed in her direction. Her sister wore an impeccably cut cream satin gown that emphasized her slenderness and displayed her bosom to advantage. The man sitting next to Lisette immediately rose to his feet and bowed. Marguerite gave him a distracted smile and wondered why Lisette was spending her valuable time with him. He seemed far too ordinary to warrant her sister’s capri-cious attention, and rather old. She judged him to be in his early thirties, if not more.

“Lisette.”

“Marguerite, what on earth are you doing here?”

Marguerite frowned and glanced pointedly at her male companion. Lisette shrugged. “It’s all right. This is my friend, Captain David Gray. He’s known
Maman
forever and is completely trustworthy.”

“Ma’am.” Captain Gray bowed and then turned to Lisette.

“Perhaps I should go and mingle for a while.”

“All right, but don’t forget to come back and talk to me later.”

“Of course, Miss Delornay.”

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Kate Pearce

Marguerite watched him walk away and then turned to Lisette who was still smiling. “He seems like a nice man.”

“He is. Why do you make it sound like a criticism?”

Marguerite sat opposite Lisette in the chair David had vacated. “He just seems a little old for you.”

“Old for me to what?”

“You know what I mean.”

Lisette wrinkled her nose. “Marguerite you are such a prude.

David is my friend, not my lover. I think he prefers men actually, but it is difficult to say.” She touched Marguerite’s hand.

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I wanted to ask your advice.”

“Mine? Are you feeling quite the thing?”

Marguerite scowled and lowered her voice. “If you are going to laugh at me, I’ll go.”

Lisette made a presentable attempt to straighten her face.

“No, I promise I’ll listen. How can I help?”

“I need to see how a woman pleasures a man.”

Lisette’s mouth dropped open. “I beg your pardon?”

“Lisette!” Marguerite hissed. “I need you to show me a room where I can watch a woman making love to a man, and you mustn’t breathe a word of this to
Maman
.”

“As if I would.” Lisette frowned. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I am. You and Christian were the ones who told me to get out more!”

“Yes, but . . . you seem to have progressed rather more quickly than we anticipated.” Lisette elbowed Marguerite in the ribs.

“Anthony Sokorvsky must be some kind of fertility god.”

“Oh, be quiet. Can you help me or not?”

“Of course I can.” Lisette got to her feet, bringing Marguerite with her. “I know the perfect room. Come on.”

Anthony slipped into the main salon of the pleasure house and looked cautiously around. To his relief there was no sign of SIMPLY WICKED / 61

Madame Helene, Lord Minshom or his brother. At least he might be able to conduct his business with a modicum of deco-rum. If such a thing was possible. He groaned inwardly.

“Anthony?”

He turned and found Peter Howard smiling at him.

“Good evening, Peter.” Anthony gestured to the quietest corner of the room. “Thank you for coming.”

Peter settled himself in a chair and studied Anthony for a long moment. “You sound very formal. Is something wrong?”

Anthony stared at his brother’s best friend, a man he respected immensely. A man who had suffered the worst life could throw at him, and yet had not only survived, but found love.