Gabriel's Torment (Regency Club Venus 2)

by Carole Mortimer

  She snorted. “You also told me that you would train me to become your secretary and bookkeeper as a way of earning my keep, but you have done nothing toward that endeavor since proposing the idea.”

  His mouth twisted. “I am sure it has not escaped your notice, but I have been busy with other things these past two days.”

  Her cheeks heated. “Of course I noticed, and I have already thanked you, several times, for your kindness in regard to my mother. But ultimately, that only makes it more obvious I cannot continue to live on your charity.”

  “It is not charity.”

  “Then what is it?”

  His eyes narrowed to stormy slits at her defiance. “I am really starting to regret my having decided spanking you would be inappropriate!”

  She eyed him scornfully. “You may attempt to rectify that decision any time you wish,” she challenged.

  Some of the anger faded from Gabriel’s expression, and he looked at her searchingly for several long seconds before speaking again. “Did you come here to argue with me because you have a genuine reason for doing so?” he probed. “Or is there some other underlying reason you are being so antagonistic toward me?” he added softly.

  She tensed. “What other reason could there be?”

  “Possibly this?” Gabriel bit out before taking Victory in his arms to hold her tightly against the hardness of his body as his lips claimed hers.

  Chapter Nine

  Victory’s lips were every bit as soft and she tasted just as good as Gabriel remembered.

  Even though he had tried his very best these past two days and three nights to forget he ever had kissed and caressed her. Because he knew he should, not because he wanted to.

  In any case, it was an endeavor he had completely failed at when he knew kissing Victory, touching her, was all he had been able to think about during the long days and sleepless nights.

  He groaned at the pleasure of having her back in his arms, kissing her, tasting her, stroking the slender length of her back and feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin linen of the shirt she wore.

  A shirt and pantaloons that once again enhanced her ethereal beauty rather than detracted from it.

  Gabriel continued to explore the heat of her lips and mouth as his hands roamed lower still to grasp the globes of her bottom. Twin globes that were firm and yet soft to hold, nestling perfectly into his palms as he pulled her close against him.

  Victory groaned her approval when she felt the firmness of Gabriel’s engorged cock against her heated flesh.

  This was what she had been longing for these past few days.

  The feel of Gabriel’s lips on her own.

  His hands on her body.

  His hard arousal pressing into her flesh.

  She had thought about these things every night as she lay awake in the bed in the blue bedchamber thinking about Gabriel.

  She had dreamed about them.

  Ached for Gabriel to kiss and caress her again after that last time.

  Her hands moved up Gabriel’s chest and about his neck when he continued to kiss her, even as he lifted her in his arms and carried her over to the chaise before sitting down with her seated sideways across his thighs.

  She parted her lips wider to allow for the deep sweep of Gabriel’s tongue, breasts pressing against his hard chest, her fingers becoming entwined in the thick and silky dark hair at his nape.

  Gabriel was so aroused simply from kissing Victory again that his heart felt as if it were going to beat its way out of his chest. His cock throbbed and pulsed to that same rapid beat. So much so, it felt as if at any moment, he might spill his release inside his evening trousers.

  He was quickly discovering that kissing Victory was as addictive as the opium to which so many in London succumbed. Not that Gabriel had ever indulged in the drug, but he had seen the result in others who had. From his observations, it was an addiction that never abated and was never sated for more than a few minutes at a time.

  If kissing Victory was an addiction, then he was in a state of rapture too deep to resist.

  “Gabriel…” Victory gasped her pleasure, her neck arching as the heat of Gabriel’s lips trailed fire down the side of her throat, his breath hot against her skin.

  “Yes, I am Gabriel to you now,” he groaned. “Not His Grace, nor Your Grace, but Gabriel. Always Gabriel.”

  “Yes, Gabriel,” she obeyed throatily.

  Victory felt utterly boneless as Gabriel’s lips continued to explore her throat, one of his hands now cupping beneath her breast to squeeze and stroke the sensitive nipple. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  “Touch me. Please,” she pleaded, her fevered gaze meeting his as she pulling her shirt from the waistband of the pantaloons before pulling it completely over her head. It was quickly followed by the sheer camisole, leaving her completely bare from the waist up.

  Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at the upward tilt of Victory’s bared breasts. The color of her nipples was a far darker rose than he had imagined, the bud itself completely erect.

  “Please, Gabriel…” Victory’s back arched, pushing forward and thus offering those nipples up for his enjoyment. “I hurt!”

  Gabriel obediently lowered his head to suck one firm nipple into his mouth, and then the other.

  Victory gasped at that steady suckle on her nipples into the moist heat of Gabriel’s mouth, hot pleasure coursing swiftly through her body to throb between her thighs as his other hand tugged and squeeze its twin. “More, Gabriel!” she demanded again. “I need more!” She was careful not to dislodge his mouth from her breasts as she shifted so that she straddled his thighs, her hands on his shoulders for balance.

  The long length of his shaft pressed against her mound covered only by the thin material of the pantaloons. As with the shirt, she hadn’t been able to wear the corset or knee-length cotton drawers, both provided by the seamstress, because they were both clearly visible beneath the gentleman’s tailored garments.

  Gabriel was sure he was going out of his mind as he suckled Victory’s nipples. She tasted of pure nectar and delicious sin. Nothing and no one else mattered but this wild and sensual woman in his arms.

  Except now he needed more… “Unfasten my trousers and take my cock out,” he instructed huskily. “Stroke and pump it,” he added once Victory’s slightly shaking fingers had released his straining cock into the cool air of the room. “Yes, just like that, and do not stop,” he groaned before lowering his head to once again suck her nipples to that same rhythm, one at a time, into the wet inferno of his mouth.

  “Gabriel…!” she protested minutes later when he lifted his head to sit back slightly.

  “Watch.” Gabriel kept one hand splayed against Victory’s arched spine as he used the other hand to unfasten the pantaloons.

  His breath caught in his throat when the unbuttoned flap of the pantaloons fell down to reveal Victory wore no drawers, the silky brown curls covering her mound completely exposed.

  Damp silky dark curls, Gabriel discovered seconds later when he slid his hand inside the unfastened garment. Her pussy lips were also wet, he found when he stroked his fingertips along that moisture and then inside the hood protecting the bud of her swollen and throbbing clit. It was so swollen, it felt as if the slightest pressure of Gabriel’s fingers against it would send her into a paroxysm of release.

  “I asked you not to stop,” he bit out gruffly when Victory’s back arched in pleasure and her slick fingers loosened their grip on his shaft. “Better,” he growled as her fingers resumed the rhythmic up and down caressing movement on his cock. “Would you like to come now, Victory?”

  She bent forward to bury her blushing face against his throat. “I do not know what that is.”

  Of course she would not. Her mother had probably been too preoccupied with helping to keep the two of them clothed and fed, and then too ill, to have the time to discuss physical matters with her daughter.

 
“It is an ecstasy like no other,” Gabriel assured huskily.

  “More than this?”

  “Much more,” he confirmed warmly, beyond pleased that Victory found pleasure in their lovemaking.

  “Then, yes, please, I should very much like to come.” She raised her head to look at him shyly. “Will you be coming too?”

  Gabriel kissed her lingeringly on the lips, overwhelmed by both her innocence and generosity. So many women, experienced or otherwise, were interested only in either getting the act over with as quickly as possible or, if they enjoyed it, ensuring their own pleasure and not their partner’s.

  No wonder he could not bothered with sex for months.

  But Victory was completely selfless in that she wanted Gabriel’s pleasure too, even if she was unsure of what form that pleasure might take.

  He held the shyness of her gaze with his. “Tighten your fingers and stroke my cock harder and faster,” he instructed again. “And be prepared, in just a few minutes, for my release to erupt from the tip.”

  Her eyes were wide. “Will I erupt too?”

  His lips curved. “If we are both lucky, then yes.”

  “Lucky?”

  “Not all women find their physical release. In fact, most will not allow the level of intimacy that would bring about that release.” He frowned.

  Victory looked alarmed. “Should I not allow it either?”

  Gabriel chuckled throatily when he felt her clit throb beneath the light caress of his fingertips. “At this stage, I doubt you will be able to stop it.”

  She swallowed. “Does that make me a wanton?”

  He shook his head. “It makes you delectable and delightful.”

  “So not a wanton?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Very well.” She nodded. “You may proceed to give me physical release.”

  Gabriel pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing, both at Victory’s words and the seriousness of her expression when she said them.

  The same seriousness of intent with which she now began to stroke and pump his cock with just the right pressure, soft and then hard, slow and then fast. The pleasure she gave him was all-consuming.

  “Oh,” she gasped when Gabriel’s fingers stroked and pressed against her clit even harder and more quickly. “Oh dear. It’s— Oh God…!” This last cry was accompanied by the rapid pulse of her clit against Gabriel’s fingertips as she climaxed and her release rapidly wet his fingers.

  Victory’s pussy was still gushing and pulsing her release against his fingers when Gabriel reached his own climax just seconds later. His cum shot in thick, hot ropes from his cockhead to adorn and paint Victory’s bared breasts.

  * * *

  “What does one usually do in a situation like this one?” Victory prompted minutes—hours?—later, when she had regained some of her senses and could actually form words.

  She sat on Gabriel’s thighs still, the steadiness of his heartbeat reassuring as she rested her head against his shoulder. The stickiness on her breasts was no doubt soiling Gabriel’s clothing, her pantaloons having suffered the same fate after she ran her sticky hands down her thighs.

  His chest vibrated as he chuckled. “One is usually naked and able to wash or bathe afterward. We, on the other hand, are still either half or fully dressed, and the clothing we are both wearing is now not fit for the observation and conjecture of others. We also appear to be in a club of ill repute.” The underlying noise of that club could be heard through the wooden door.

  Victory gave a splutter of laughter. “I grant you, it was not well planned!”

  “Not well planned at all,” he drawled. “Possibly because it was not planned. Was it?” He tilted his head so he could look at her face through narrowed lids.

  Victory did not at all like the frowning suspicion she could see in his expression.

  She sat up abruptly before standing and turning her back toward Gabriel as she fastened the buttons on her pantaloons. She then reached to pick up and pulled on the shirt she had discarded some time ago.

  All before she turned back to face him. “Are you implying that I somehow machinated what just happened between the two of us?” She eyed him angrily. “And if so, what possible reason would I have for doing such a thing?”

  Other than the fact I have fallen in love with Gabriel Templeton, the Duke of Blackborne!

  Which was, in itself, an utterly ludicrous thing for her to have done.

  It was also, Victory realized as she stared at Gabriel, as inevitable as night following day.

  For such a long time, as many months as she had taken to sitting on the steps situated not far from this club to sell her wares, seeing and speaking to Gabriel at the end of her working day had been the only highlight in the unrelenting drudgery and despair of her life. Not only had Gabriel always taken the time to stop and speak with her, but he had always been teasing and kind to her during those conversations too.

  Once he had taken her to live in his house and had kissed her that first time, and now made love with her so pleasurably, how could she not have fallen in love with him?

  She challenged any woman not to have done so!

  “I meant no offense, Victory.” Gabriel stood, wincing when he looked down and saw the mess that covered his evening jacket. His mess. Because it was his cum that stained the front of his clothing. “I cannot appear in public in these clothes.” He shrugged out of the jacket, only to see that his waistcoat and shirt were also splashed with his release.

  Not surprising when he believed he had released more cum tonight than at any other time in his life.

  Because it had been Victory making love to him.

  Everything with her was so much…more.

  More exciting.

  More pleasurable.

  More of everything.

  “What are you doing?” Victory stared at Gabriel as he first removed his waistcoat and then his shirt, before wiping the latter over his firmly muscular shoulders and chest. The muscles stood out in ridges down the length of his abdomen and then lower still, as evidence of his fitness.

  He dropped the stained clothing into a heap on the floor before crossing to open a tall wardrobe. The contents of that wardrobe, several evening jackets along with white shirts and trousers, distracted her from the broad expanse of Gabriel’s bare and muscular back.

  Because it seemed to Victory there could only be one reason for Gabriel to have so many spare clothes at the club he owned and ran and where he spent so much of his time. “How often do you have women in here?”

  Gabriel initially froze for several seconds before slowly taking down a clean shirt and pulling it on over his head. His expression was one of coldness when he finally looked at her. “I’m sure it cannot have escaped your notice that Club Venus is a place where gentlemen come to enjoy female company.”

  Victory bristled. “I am not interested in what other gentlemen do here.”

  His nostrils flared. “But you feel that what happened between us just now gives you the right to ask me that question?”

  She felt a pain in her chest before raising her chin defensively. “You do not?”

  “I did not say that,” he replied calmly. “Explain what you meant by how often do I have women in here.”

  Victory released a heavy sigh, very aware of the tension that now permeated the room. “I do not want to argue with you, Gabriel.”

  His jaw tightened. “Then perhaps you should not have sounded quite so confrontational.”

  However Victory had or had not sounded, she was still very aware that Gabriel had not answered her original question. A question she accepted she probably didn’t have the right to ask at all, but Gabriel’s tacit refusal to answer filled her with disappointment and unease.

  Because that silence seemed to imply something that had been so special to her held no more meaning to him than did any of his other sexual encounters. One of many, no doubt. One only had to consider where he spent most of his time
to know that.

  What an idiot she had been to even think Gabriel might one day come to love her in return. To him, she was nothing more than a guttersnipe he had rescued off the streets, and who knew how long even that would last once he became bored with her.

  She drew in a steadying breath. “Perhaps it would be as well if I now continued with my original plan to return to St Giles this evening—”

  “Absolutely not!” Gabriel stepped forward. “I will not allow such a thing.”

  “You will not allow it?” Victory snorted. “I believe we have already decided this evening that you do not have the right to allow me to do anything.”

  His eyes glittered angrily. “Our intimacy just now says differently.”

  “But I do not—” Victory abruptly ended her defiant reply as the study door was thrown open and a beautiful young lady stepped just inside the room.

  “Your Grace, you must come quick!” She breathed heavily, her chest quickly rising and falling in her agitation. “Another gentleman has been attacked as he was leaving the premises. Bruno has taken him to the red salon—” She didn’t finish her sentence as, after a barked “Remain here” to Victory, the duke brushed past the other woman and disappeared down the hallway.

  To the red salon, Victory surmised when she heard a door open before it closed again seconds later.

  Another gentleman had been attacked?

  A statement which implied something like this had happened before.

  Chapter Ten

  Gabriel scowled his displeasure when he entered the red salon—one of the private rooms where the ladies entertained a single gentleman for the evening or night—and saw the obese and elderly Lord Henry Gordon lying prostrate on the chaise.

  His eyes were closed, and his usually florid complexion had paled to a sickly white where it was not covered in the blood escaping from his nose and the cut on his lip.

  Gabriel had no particular liking for the older man, and he knew that his friend, Bastian Forbes, held the other man in complete contempt. Understandably so, after Gordon had offered to buy the virginity of the young lady who had not at the time been but was now Bastian’s wife, Abigail.