The Miss Education of Dr. Exeter (23 page)

M
IA COULD ONLY WAGER A GUESS
, but she suspected Exeter ran a worst-case scenario over in his mind. A cloud of perplexed thoughts whirled behind those sensuous, hooded eyes. The
Anglais
Etienne had mentioned would likely be gentlemen of the ton, peers whom Exeter might run into at a social event—or club members. She searched his face. “You’re worried.”

“Ordinarily, I would call it circumspect. But since we have tossed caution to the wind this evening . . .” He shrugged a shoulder and fashioned a reassuring simile. “We are masked. And from what I understand, no one makes acquaintances at soirees of this nature. Anonymity is de rigueur.”

As they circulated among the fornication and flogging, Mia would stop now and then to stare. She couldn’t help herself, it was all so . . . titillating. “I had no idea how shockingly wicked I could be and how easily I am brought to such depravity.”

“I blame myself for exposing you to such immoral salaciousness. Are you repentant over it?”

Mia hoped her blush was more dazzling than demure. “On the contrary, I am most humbled by my lack of regret.”

This time Exeter stopped to stare.

She started to pivot—to have a look at the sought-after, seductive woman he found so beguiling . . . and then it struck her. He was staring at her.

A slow smile, something decidedly masculine and feral, tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Hungry?”

She glanced about, as her hand swept over the buttons of his trousers. “I believe I have what is called—an appetite.” She kept her touch light, and quickly found what she searched for. That she openly dared such risqué foreplay appeared to kindle more than a glimmer in his eyes.

She stood with her back to a buffet table, entranced at the sight of a nude woman bound in leather and suspended by ropes in midair. Exeter coated pieces of dried fruit from a chocolate fountain and fed her bites of plum and berry.

“M-m-m.” The woman was being denied orgasm by her partner and it made Mia’s lower anatomy begin to thrum and quiver. She leaned back against Exeter and whispered in his ear. “Will he ever let her climax?”

“Depends how prettily she begs for it.”

Exeter pulled her to one side of the table, to a darker corner of the room. “I almost forgot.” He pulled the emerald collar from his coat pocket.

She swallowed. “Where did you find it?”

“Prospero’s bedchamber.”

A rush of heat flushed her cheeks. “I . . . we . . .” She lowered her eyes.

Exeter tilted her chin up. “For the moment, what happened between you and Prospero is not important—as long as you weren’t hurt.” He slipped the collar around her throat and clipped on the silver chain. “I thought we could use a fetish.”

A passing group of young men all turned around to openly gape at her. A sudden modesty caused her to turn away.

“Hold on, love.” He tugged the chain and positioned her derriere against him. Across the aisle, another female was being ceremoniously laid over a paddling rail. A male partner tossed her skirts and petticoats overhead—exposing a peachy, plump bum. Mia pressed against Exeter and he opened his hand. A glow of violet-blue energy swirled in his palm.

He inched up the back of her dress. “I was just thinking you might enjoy another lesson. Something mysterious, arcane—like the use of potent force for a bit of pleasure.”

More than curious, she smiled. “I must admit I’ve enjoyed my lessons thus far.”

He closed his fingers around the swirling, radiant force and pressed the tingling egg between her labia. She jumped when the compacted energy began to vibrate.

Exeter chuckled softly. “I’ve got you.” He massaged until she moaned and rubbed her ass against him. When the pulse of energy faded, she groaned. “More, please.”

“Not yet.” Exeter could be shockingly erotic at times. He was going to keep her begging for more, just like the woman splayed out in front of them waiting for the next pass of the cato’-nine-tails. Exeter’s fingers remained between her buttocks, gently circling the small, tight sphincter muscle. With each lash of the whip across the aisle, Mia’s cheeks quivered.

She leaned against him. “I do remember that spanking of yours being rather titillating—but I can’t imagine under what circumstance a flogging might be enjoyable.”

Exeter hunkered down close. “If I were to flog you . . . properly . . . I’d use the whip to increase the blood circulation to your skin. You would gradually become more receptive to the sting.” His breath carried husky words across the tip of her ear, which he kissed.

Mia shivered. “And I would beg for more.”

“You are a surprisingly sensuous woman.” He conjured another ball of potent energy and pushed it into her vagina. “Shall we explore further?”

She thought he meant deeper and nodded, barely able to speak. When he tugged playfully at her collar, she realized he wanted her to walk around the soiree with an egg of energy vibrating inside her—stimulated beyond reason—on the edge of orgasm.

An attractive couple approached them and asked for
prélimi-naires
. “I believe they mean foreplay.” Exeter studied her expression carefully before nudging her forward. He unbuttoned the back of her dress, dropping the front of her gown just enough to bare her breasts.

A thrill shot through her body, to be exposed in public like this. The panther inside stirred. The feral creature who longed to run—unfettered by clothes—through fields and forests and bacchanals. Quite before she could control herself, she arched forward to meet their lips. The man and the woman each tasted a nipple—nibbling lightly at first, and then sucking harder. She lay her head back against Exeter and moaned.

Shamelessly, she watched them tongue and scrape with their teeth until both peaks throbbed from their nipping. With each breath, the egg deep inside her rocked from side to side, causing her to clench her vagina. Exeter had increased the egg’s potency. “Come for me, Mia—again. I want another.” His demand sent a shudder through her body, and a kind of release.

“I am close—
crescendo qui mène à un paroxysme,
” she gasped. Her entire body was racked by an explosive orgasm. Weak-kneed, he swept an arm around her waist and thanked the couple for their assistance.

He held her tightly against him as the last waves of her climax diminished and left her feeling like a rag doll in his arms. He kissed her mouth, his tongue deep and languid. “Such a willing and spirited raven mistress,” he whispered.

Across the aisle, a large, ornately framed mirror reflected the ecstatic flogger and his delightful red-bottomed partner. Beyond them she caught sight of Exeter. She watched as he folded his arms around her and buried his face in the curve of her neck. His chiseled jaw and elegant profile nearly made her wet for him all over again. “Good God, I am a wanton.”

His lips barely touched her ear—just his breath. “You are the most sensual woman I have ever encountered. Your body delights in pleasure.”

Mia sighed, vaguely aware of being buttoned. His knuckles gently brushed the skin on her back as he closed her dress. She opened her eyes to steal another glance in the mirror. Behind them, not ten feet away, a striking man with silver eyes watched, intently. A chill ran down her spine. “Prospero.”

“I see him.” Exeter checked the exits. Without Ping and Tim, and Oakley’s trap, there wasn’t much reason to stay, not with a powerful wizard on the prowl, one who knew they had escaped. They must fall back, regroup, attend to Phaeton and America. The newborn needed protection—more than the troll could provide. He hoped that at least one of the Nightshades was with them at the hotel—Jersey Blood.

Where was everyone? Tim had given him a device earlier this evening, the communicator. At this moment, he’d give anything to have it hooked around his ear. Exeter glanced over his shoulder; no wizard to be found. He didn’t like the way Prospero looked at Mia. As if he had come to this soiree for a reason, and was determined to leave with a party favor.

To exit via the grand stair required them to maneuver through a tangle of fornication. He found a side door, which led to a terrace cordoned off from the risqué revelry. After being in a hot house full of writhing bodies, the cool breeze refreshed. Lacing his fingers through Mia’s, he guided her along the length of the balcony hoping to find a staircase.

“She is in no danger from me.” Prospero shut the French door and sauntered toward them. His expression was neutral enough, though guarded. A slight upturn at the ends of his mouth signaled goodwill, which was almost entirely directed at Mia.

Exeter studied Prospero study Mia, and something clenched in his gut. From the moment the wizard entered the room, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

“I enjoyed watching your bliss.” He continued to admire her. “Not nearly as much as I would have enjoyed giving you—”

“What do you want?” Exeter cut in.

Reluctantly, his gaze finally met his. “Hello, Doctor Exeter.”

When he didn’t respond in kind, Prospero exhaled a sigh. “Do you mean—what do I want besides the Moonstone and the child, Luna—and of course, Mia?”

“You can’t have them.”

“But I already have—all of them—even Mia.” There was a cruel twist to his smile and those silver eyes turned as dark as pupils could possibly dilate. “We showered together in my bedchamber.” Rather triumphantly, he returned his black gaze to Mia. “I soaped your breasts.”

Exeter lifted a clenched fist and struck Prospero with a blow that would cause most men to stagger backward, and all it did was turn Prospero’s cheek.

He moved to push Mia behind him and was struck by a force that lifted him through the air and slammed him against a wall. A cloud of crumbling mortar and dust enveloped him as he landed in a crumple on the ground.

“Your potent force is badly depleted, Exeter,” Prospero loomed over him. “I have no quarrel with you—nor do I wish to punish you needlessly. Unlike what many say about me, I am not a heartless fiend—you listen to Noggy and his twin Oakley. Just give me what I want.” The wizard appeared to tire—he was after all in their time, not his own. “Give up the girl, and we will leave peaceably,” Prospero’s quiet voice returned.

As he struggled to regain his breath, Exeter scanned the balcony. Mia was nowhere to be found. “Like I said, you can’t have her.”

Where exactly was Mia? Something sprang from the roof edge—a black shadow flew across the moon and knocked Prospero down. She pinned the spread-eagled wizard to the terrace, her large paws locking his arms in place with the aid of potent force.
Careful, Mia.

The cat snarled her reply.

“Allow me to do the honors.” Ping stood behind the wizard dressed in the most stunning black dressing robe ever seen.

Exeter rose to his feet, and Mia quickly retreated to join him.

Intricate, knotted closures remained open on the velvet wrapper. Mandarin collar and cuffs were embroidered with yellow and red flames. Ping wore a waistcoat of crimson silk without a shirt underneath. The vest was unbuttoned enough to display two delicate mounds—Jinn’s breasts. Her long dark hair blew about the finely featured face under a black opera hat. Perfectly arousing and so very androgynous. Completing the exotic picture, Ping wore a velvet demi mask.

Lips blushed with rose opened to full effect, as the fascinating creature spoke in singsong harmony. “Greetings, Prospero.”

The wizard picked himself up off the floor. “We meet at last, Julian Ping—or is it Jinn?”

The jinni dipped a curtsy, parting the velvet robe like the wings of a butterfly. A theatrical display of erotic delight, starring Ping’s penis.

Exeter had never seen such an exotic androgyne. In the past, the jinni was either Ping or Jinn, but this creature was something even better—a stunning hermaphrodite. As a doctor, he was enthralled. A quick glance at Prospero revealed a mesmerized wizard. The panther backed away, with a hiss.

Displayed for all to see, Ping’s manhood angled upward with a good deal of bobbing and waving about. Nearly twice as large as one might have guessed, given his stature and build. The perfectly helmeted head was pierced with a golden ring and run through with a red satin ribbon, which Ping tossed into the air.

Spontaneously, Prospero reached out to catch the ribbon. There was a sudden yank—and for an instant Exeter glimpsed the surprise in the wizard’s eyes. He’d been hooked. A great, mysterious fish on the end of a powerful jinni’s line. Ping stepped aside as a violent force dragged a disintegrating Prospero across the balcony floor and into the cylindrical tube, which opened and banged shut with a reverberation that shook the balcony.

It was over so quickly, no one spoke for a moment, not even Ping. The three of them stared at the trap—wordless, motionless. The curious canister turned blacker than black, and appeared to absorb all light, while reflecting none. Not more than a foot long—and yet it held one of the most powerful wizards of the Outremer.

Exeter caught up the silver chain attached to the emerald collar and inched forward for a better look. The tube shimmied across the floor, causing Mia to hiss and Ping to place his foot on the rollicking apparatus. Exeter had been assured the trap was strong enough to hold the formidable wizard—but for how long?

Ping read his mind. “Oakley is fairly sure this will hold him. We even got a thumbs-up from Gaspar, at least—what could be seen of his thumb.”

“Fairly sure?”

Ping shrugged, rather good-naturedly. “The trap works on the same principle as an oil lamp or bottle or—jar. All of which are excellent containers for Moonstones or jinn or wizards.”

Exeter nodded. There were times when he found Ping and Gaspar’s version of the occult beyond mystifying. Still—what they had accomplished was impressive. Exeter shook Ping’s hand. “Honestly, I’m not sure how that could have gone smoother.”