by Suzi Love
“If you listened to your interfering mama, you probably think I’m randy enough to service three, or even four, women at a time.” Edward held Gillian’s forearms and gave them a slight shake. “Is that it? Is that what you think?”
“No, dearest, on the contrary. It’s me who cannot satisfy even one man.” A solitary tear ran down each of her pink cheeks. “You, Edward. I want to satisfy you.”
“Oh, Gillian. And all I want is you in my bed.”
“But when I see these women,” his wife said, “what they do to men, for men, I realize I know nothing about seducing a man. Mama said good girls lifted their nightdresses and let husbands do what they must to beget children.” She swiped at her freely flowing tears. “But those ridiculous ideas aren’t effective. Not for me, nor my friends.”
She waved at Chrissie and Anna, who stood arm in arm, nodding agreement and encouragement. “We’ve discussed this at length,” Gillian continued. “As intelligent women, we’ll not be treated like field animals any longer.” Hands fisted on her hips, she faced the men. “Gentlemen, either you accompany us, or we shall proceed by ourselves. But be warned, we intend viewing every themed room and every debauched nook and cranny in this establishment.”
Justin sucked in a deep breath, stunned into silence, while the others glared at him, accusation on their faces. By contrast, the women’s demeanor appeared calm, determined, and more than a little triumphant.
“Botheration, Justin,” Thomas said, his face as red as a ripe tomato. “Look what you’ve embroiled us in. Your masterly plan turned into a disaster.”
Justin groaned, rapidly considered options of escape from this dilemma, and wondered what the hell he’d been thinking trying to outsmart three quick-witted ladies. Tonight proved to him he’d been too long away from the company of tasteful ladies, ladies who thought beyond their next fucking. Ladies eager to use knowledge to enhance their lives instead of using their bodies for a few minutes of gratification.
Hell, how was he meant to fix this?
Bart wandered into view at the end of corridor, a satisfied grin splitting his face from ear to ear. Even if the women hadn’t observed him being well and truly serviced by Magdalene, his look of utter satisfaction would have relayed what he’d experienced. And how much he’d reveled in it. The women stared in fascination, and Bart’s mouth twitched at their attention, but he addressed his question to Justin.
“Do I detect a slight hiccough in the smooth running of your cunning plot for the evening, my conniving friend?” With his normal bewitching smile for the ladies, he said, “I admit to being a little disconcerted when I looked up to see you ladies watching Magdalene service me so adequately. Though I’ve no problem displaying my naked member—”
As one, the ladies dropped their gaze to Bart’s trousers.
“Bloody hell, Bart. You’re not helping matters.”
Bart ignored him. “— the idea of conservative ladies surveying my private parts felt rather titillating for my part. Justin accuses me often of being an exhibitionist. And I know he envisaged shock sending you fleeing for the country after the first half hour in this depraved house.”
Justin narrowed his eyes at his friend’s taunts. “Yes, that was my intention. But it seems the ladies, and I now use the term in a looser fashion, have other ideas.”
Bart took Anna’s hand, raised her fingers to his mouth, kissed the backs, and ignored Thomas pushing his large body between them.
“See here, Bart—”
“Anna,” Bart said with a naughty smile, “if you saw anything below you’d like me to explain, or you’d like to try, consider me a willing participant for any of your experiments.”
“And naturally,” Anna said, “you let Magdalene practice her arts on your body as a kindness to her. To allow her to audition for Justin.”
Bart threw back his head and laughed. “I like you. And I truly believe your disreputable captain isn’t fit to kiss the ground you walk on.”
“My captain? What have you heard of him?”
Bart raised his eyes to Justin who gave a small nod of permission. “When Justin asked me to trace your captain, it seemed a wild goose chase. Though, as it happened, I easily picked up his trail. The blackguard has cavorted in every hell hole in London.”
“No, no, it’s impossible. If the captain were already in London, he’d have written to me.”
“I can assure you, your esteemed fiancé is a lot more dissipated than he has led you, or his family, to think.”
“No, no.”
Anna shook her head, curls bouncing in wild disarray from under the string of her mask, an occurrence that seemed to fascinate Thomas. He reached out to touch her hair and smoothed the fly-away strands.
“I refuse to listen to such lies. If he is indeed here, there’ll be a very good reason he’s not notified me.”
“You’re mistaken,” Bart said, his voice laced with sympathy. “The captain has kicked up his heels alongside other reprobate ex- soldiers, for several weeks. They’ve racked up large gaming bills, and have spent freely at several of the bawdy houses.”
When Anna slumped against the railing, Thomas placed his hands on her waist to support her. “I don’t understand. Unless … unless his friends insisted he have a bachelor’s fling before we marry.”
She appealed to Chrissie and Gillian, who both looked away and appeared more than a little embarrassed. “Don’t you think?”
Justin guessed both women knew more of the comings and goings of Anna’s esteemed captain than they’d revealed. Damn! The real reason they’d dragged Anna on this journey of discovery became evident. Nothing like a little city adventure to open someone’s eyes to the narrowness of a gossipy rural village.
While Gillian tried to comfort Anna, Justin pulled Chrissie aside. “You knew, didn’t you?”
She faced him squarely. “We suspected, yes. We agreed to remove Anna from his family before word reached his home and she discovered his perfidy that way.”
“Thus the urgency you mentioned.”
“For Anna to live with them, be dependent upon them, when she discovered their son had feet of clay would be humiliating. As would discovering the captain had no intention of honoring his promises and marrying Anna.”
“She appears far too genuine a person to be misled by such a bastard.” They looked toward Anna, where Thomas and Bart hovered over her.
“Anna is one of the kindest people to ever walk upon this earth. How do I dissuade her from ideas of marrying the wretched captain?”
Justin reached out a finger and smoothed the frown lines between her winged brows. “You care a great deal for your friends.”
She shrugged. “They’ve been my salvation for many years. I’d do anything for them.”
He raised a brow. “Anything covers a multitude of sins.” He gave her a predatory smile, and she frowned. Good! She should be disquieted in his presence. “Perhaps I may put that to the test one day soon.”
If every other lady in London went crazy and displayed wild swings of emotion and eroticism in the presence of the notorious Hawkesbury, this too calm lady should show some sort of reaction as well. Why it was important he didn’t care to analyze. He didn’t wish to stir the fearful looks debutante chits gave him, the terror of taint that caused them to back away from him on the streets. Nor did he want to invoke the titillation experienced women of the ton chased him for.
With Chrissie, he wanted something different. He wanted her to see beneath the façade to the real Viscount Hawkesbury. A ridiculous whimsy on his part. A desire lodged deep in the heart of the person most considered to be lacking a heart.
The stream of mistresses he’d rejected over the last three years would laugh in their beds if they read his thoughts now. He stood on the wrong side of his own pleasure room, thinking virtuous thoughts about three women. Wondering what he could do for them, all without removing their clothing.
Damn. Amend that thought. About two of them, he thought heroic an
d non-salacious things. Even a scourge of society as he was drew the line at bedding friend’s wives, and hell, only a complete cad would touch someone as innocent and sweet as Miss Anna.
By contrast, each time he looked at Chrissie’s rather ordinary features, looks that wouldn’t garner attention from the ton’s gallants, he felt flutters. Stupid, childish flutters in his stomach, his chest. Somehow, for him at least, her plainer appearance concealed mystery, more than the open beauty of golden ringlets and blue eyes of the prettiest debutante.
He cleared his throat, attracted the attention of the others who still huddled in a group around Anna. “It seems, ladies, I underestimated your determination. I imagined when you saw the anteroom and realized why all those gentlemen paid their money, you’d run away. I was wrong. We all were.”
He looked at the other men for confirmation.
Bart grinned. “Not me. From the minute Lady Wellsby entered your library last evening, I knew you’d met your match.” He bowed deeply before Chrissie. “May I commend you, my lady. It’s not often someone out-wickeds the most sinful Viscount in England.”
The ladies laughed, while Justin groaned.
“Thank you, Bart. If you ladies are still determined, we may proceed to another window. But I warn you, this may cause you to swoon.”
Chrissie looked him squarely in the eye and asked, “Why? Do you intend on joining Bart in partaking of the entertainment?”
“I will if you will,” he countered with a grin.
He was pleased to note a tinge of red on her cheeks, knowing at last something made her blush, because he didn’t want to believe she was as brazen, or as unconcerned, about what she observed her as she pretended. Yet once again, she out bluffed him.
Her nose lifted. “We’ll see when we get there, my lord. It may only be suitable for gentlemen to obtain their pleasure, like the last room.”
“Oh, I assure you, many, many women enjoy drawing men’s large penises as deeply into their throats as they can manage. Bart, do you think Magdalene enjoyed sucking your cock, rolling her tongue around your head, swallowing your hot seed?”
He knew he went too far in his attempt to shock her, but something goaded him, made him push her to the edge. Bart smirked, and Justin knew he’d play along. They’d been doing these sorts of games for years. “Magdalene told me last night she wanted her first experience to only be with me. From the taste of my kisses last evening, she said she knew my sperm would slide down her throat as sweetly as the best liquor. She promised to suck me until I was as dry as a desert, to lick every last drop from my head.”
“Christ!” Justin groaned, as the pain in his suddenly swelling groin stopped him in his tracks.
Edward and Thomas also halted and rearranged their trouser flaps.
“You did that deliberately,” Chrissie said to Bart.
He grinned, totally unrepentant. “I did. Justin thought it amusing that you ladies recognize me, watch me, when I was having what is called here, the sucking of a camel’s mouth. Though, knowing you watched made it more exciting for me.”
“Really?” Gillian asked. “So men like being sucked and watched.”
Edward groaned, glared at Bart. “Did you really need to mention that? God knows what she’ll want to try next.”
Bart laughed. “Lucky you if your gorgeous wife agrees to watch while someone else performs a camel’s mouth on you, Edward.”
“Oh, no,” Gillian said. “But someone could watch my performance while I did it to Edward. Someone like Magdalene. Someone who could tell me if I performed it correctly.”
“Trust me, Gillian. What you do is already correct.”
Gillian’s cheeks flushed. Chrissie looked closely at her friend. “I think perhaps, Gillian, you knew a few more secrets than you might have shared with Anna and me.”
Gillian shrugged. “Perhaps, with Edwards help, I’ve learned a little. Just not enough.”
Justin gained enough control of his unruly erection to stand erect again. He waved at the far end of the corridor. “Onwards and upwards’ is a most apt expression for what you’re about to see. We’re about to be entertained by Matthew Large.” He grinned. “I’m sure Chrissie will be especially enthralled with what one man can accomplish in a short time.
Although, I do ask you to remain quiet during his performance as we don’t want the ladies with him to realize they’re being observed.”
“Ladies.” Anna’s voice was a squeak. “More than one.” Thomas started to speak but she stopped him with a firm hand. “No, Thomas. I will remain, no matter what.”
Justin drew a deep breath, cursed himself for plotting the most ill-fated excursion in history, but couldn’t see any way to progress but forward. If these obstinate females demanded more, he’d out- stubborn them by showing them things to make their hair stand on end. He looked forward to Chrissie’s reaction to watching Matthew’s seduction techniques. Ah, yes, that amusement could make up for a lot.
Stopping in another corridor, he waited for the group behind him to catch up and cluster around. A small opening cut high on one wall of the room provided the usual viewing point for them to look down upon the three people already there. Justin glanced down, assured himself the scene was set, and stepped back.
“Please, be my guests.”
In their eagerness to reach the viewing point, the ladies almost knocked him over while behind him, Edward groaned. He felt a flash of sympathy for the Earl, forced out of his own house, roaming London in misery under the misconception he helped his marriage. Poor misguided man now discovered how badly he’d blundered. Added to which his wife’s out of character behavior bewildered Edward, panicked him.
Blame, Justin knew, would be laid squarely at his door whether he deserved it or not, although deep inside, he accepted blame for some of it. If not for his sordid reputation, one he’d spent three years cultivating, Chrissie and her friends wouldn’t have sought him out.
Down below, Matthew showed himself to his best. By the chorus of female gasps, Matthew’s most prominent part had sprung into view, displayed like a butcher’s sausage to the two ladies in the room below with him, and also to the three women up above, open mouthed with awe.
Edward leaned forward. “Christ almighty, the man’s hung like a stallion.”
“He fucks like one too,” Bart said with a grin, peering over shoulders like the best of voyeurs.
“Very soon, those two mares will squeal loudly enough to blow the roof off.”
Thomas studied the participants below them. “Isn’t that woman—”
“Which one?” Bart asked.
“We can only see one face. The one on her back, facing up, with that enormous black collar around her neck. It looks like … No, no, it can’t be.”
Justin chuckled. “Yes, it can. The extremely rich one wearing the jewel encrusted slave collar and with the big smile on her face—and presently being held in place by Matthew’s very large fingers between her legs—is the Duke of Brinkley’s wife, Margaret. And without seeing her face, I can identify our other generous patron, the one being ploughed by Matthew’s enormous cock.”
“Who is it?” Gillian demanded with a girlish eagerness.
“That pair of luscious buttocks that Matthew is so intently thrusting between belongs to Margaret’s best friend, Cynthia.”
“Cynthia?” Thomas echoed. “Lady Cynthia Abernathy, the wife of our esteemed Member of Parliament, holder of several titles? That Cynthia?”
“The very same,” Justin remarked drily.
“And how is it, my lord,” Chrissie demanded of Justin, “that you’re able to recognize Lady Abernathy from a quick glance at her …” She waved her hand in small circles as she searched for a suitable word.
“Arse?” Justin offered with a grin.
She snorted. “You seem to have an intimate knowledge of both ladies’ bodies.”
He chuckled. “Do I detect a touch of jealousy, my lady?”
“Jealousy? Certainly not. Wh
at would I have to be jealous of? I barely know you.”
He leaned closer to Chrissie’s ear so as not to be overheard. “No, but you want to know me better, and soon I’ll allow you to do that.”
Her eyes widened and she gasped but before she could reply, he held a finger to his lips to signal for quiet. “We don’t want to alert them to our presence. If I know Matthew’s routine, any moment he’ll finish off Cynthia and you’ll hear her scream. Then he’ll attend to Margaret, although Cynthia will help with her too.”
“You mean—” Chrissie swallowed, tried to appear cool and sophisticated. “You mean they do things … to each other?”
“Oh, yes. Most definitely. That’s the part they enjoy the most.” “Oh, my goodness. I never knew women could do … “ Anna said, in a small voice from in front of them. “That. Any of that.”
“Anna,” Justin said, compassion in his voice. “There are many things occurring here a well- bred young lady should never understand.” She glared at his dismissive tone until he gave a resigned sigh and leaned back against the wall. “Some women enjoy other women, Anna. The two down there come here twice a week. They use Matthew to give them physical release. The emotional closeness they crave, they get from each other. Did you notice what Margaret is doing while Matthew’s fingers are busy working other parts for her?”
“Doing?” Anna echoed, as she turned back to the room. “Oh, my goodness. She seems to be—”
“Sucking on Cynthia’s breasts!” Bart announced, after peering through the aperture. “She always enjoys that part of the evening. Anna, wait until you see Cynthia return the favor in a moment.”
“Cynthia must have strong teeth because Margaret always screams. When Matthew is inside Margaret and Cynthia latches on to her nipple, you’d be wise to step away from the opening,” Justin remarked in an offhand way. “Margaret’s screeches pierce your ear drum.”
“And you let them do this? Every week?” Chrissie asked.
“Me? It’s naught to do with me.”
“Oh, come, come. You are the owner of this establishment.”
Justin smiled. “So, I don’t suppose there is any possibility of taking you ladies home now, is there?”
