Authors: Kate Pearce
“Not really, because we are still at odds, aren’t we?” Lisette sighed. “I can’t share this with you. It is too important to me.”
He got to his feet. “Oui, I understand, but you must also understand that I might not necessarily have any sympathy for you when it all goes horribly wrong.”
She looked up at him, her throat tight. “That is both unkind and unlike you.”
He shrugged. “It’s how I feel.”
“Just because you are unhappy, I must be unhappy, too?”
He stiffened. “I’m not unhappy.”
She met his gaze. “We are twins, I
know
you. I know in my heart that you are restless and dissatisfied and confused.”
His smile was mocking and meant to hurt. “All that just from being my twin?”
She frowned at him. “Why are you being like this?”
He sauntered toward the door. “Perhaps you’re right and
I’m simply jealous that you have finally found something you want more than me.”
“But you replaced me in your thoughts long ago. You’ve pushed me away all year.”
“Have I?” He nodded as if she made perfect sense. “Maybe we need this distance between us. Maybe it is for the best.”
“Christian …”
“Good night, Lis, and take care.”
He bowed and headed out of the kitchen, his expression so impenetrable that even she couldn’t tell what he really felt. She clasped her hands together and stared down at the scarred table. Had he deliberately done this to unsettle her before she met Lord Swanfield? Had he wanted to remind her that she had once told him everything, and worshipped the very ground he walked on?
She let out a painful breath. Maybe he was right and there needed to be more distance between them, but it still hurt far more than she had anticipated.
L
isette sat in the cream and gold painted salon and watched Lord Swanfield serve the other guests. On the center stage, three women played with one naked man who was tied to a chair. Despite his gag, Lisette could still hear the man’s moans as the women touched his cock and rubbed themselves against him.
Lord Swanfield was aware of her arrival, but so far she had done nothing to seek him out, preferring to watch him move around the space, his body graceful, his long legs and fine arse encased in the tightest satin. She doubted any of the men could sit comfortably in the pantaloons; they would probably tear. But then, they were not there to sit and chat, were they? They were there to offer sexual opportunities to the guests.
She realized she’d hardly touched him during their previous two encounters and she found she wanted to quite badly. Seeing other women brush against him and fondle him made her feel a strange combination of jealousy and arousal that was hard to deal with. Christian’s warnings about her previous sexual
encounters resonated in her mind and she forced herself to ignore them.
The next time Lord Swanfield turned in her direction; she raised her hand and beckoned him over. She saw the mingled excitement and reserve in his face and understood it completely. It seemed he was no more at ease in this public setting than she was. When he straightened from his bow, his groin was level with her face and she could see that he was already aroused. Was it for her or for all the women in the room?
She leaned forward and nipped at the taut satin covering his shaft and he shuddered. She did it again, harder and his hips jerked forward as if inviting her to take more of him, to bite, to lick, to devour. And God, she wanted to, wanted every person in that room to see how she affected him and how he was hers alone. She’d never thought of herself as a particularly possessive woman, but something about Lord Swanfield made her want to keep him all to herself.
She sat back and stared up at him. His dark blue eyes were narrowed with lust, and his lips moved in a silent curse.
“Come with me,” she ordered.
He stepped back to allow her to stand and she led him to one of the intimate bedrooms close to the salon and locked the door behind him. She ripped off her mask and did the same to his. Still caught in the terrifying need to brand him, she knelt at his feet and continued her exploration of his cock and balls with her teeth, heard his breath hiss out, and licked away the wetness of his pre-cum seeping through the satin.
His cock grew even bigger and harder and yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself from pushing into her, asking for more, taking every sharp nip and bite and never drawing back. She grasped his hips to hold him still as she tried to get her mouth around the head of his shaft, which was attempting to force its way out of the top of his pantaloons. She sucked in the glorious
wetness of his arousal, the sheen of the satin and the sliver of the most sensitive skin at the tip of his cock, all jumbled together in her mouth, all needing to be caressed and licked and bitten.
“Christ …” His cum exploded from his cock and she didn’t stop lapping at him, even when he leaned into her as if his legs could no longer support him, as if he wanted to fall to the ground despite still being wedged against the door.
Lisette sat back on her heels and wiped her fingers over her mouth, her whole body trembling with arousal from what she had just done. “Touch me. I want your mouth on me, I want …”
Before she could finish speaking, he brought her down to the floor, his mouth seeking hers, his tongue plunging deep as he kissed her with a ferocity she had never encountered before. His lips feathered down her throat and then settled between the hollow of her breasts. “Don’t stop,” she managed to gasp. “Don’t … stop.”
He shoved her puffed sleeve down from her shoulder and worked the buttons at the back of her bodice, loosened the laces of her corset as well. His mouth came down over her breast and he sucked her into the hot cavern of his mouth. She arched helplessly against him, moaned as his hand slid past her stocking to the top of her thigh and cupped her mound. She opened her legs for him and he slid his fingers over her clit and plunged them inside her. He pumped her hard to the rhythm of his suckling, his palm wedged against her swollen clit, demanding a response she was oh so willing to give him.
She screamed into his shoulder as she climaxed and he didn’t stop moving, brought her to another peak and then another until she was so wet and needy that she wanted more, needed to be filled. She slid her fingers between them and found he was hard again, fought to open the soaked placket of his pantaloons and hold him in her hand.
“Come for me again, come with me.”
He moved against her hand, his body hard and urgent, all finesse gone, the desire to come a rampant, unstoppable need they had to conquer together, to feed until there was nothing left to burn.
He climaxed with a groan into her hand and she came with him, enjoyed the way his weight fell on top of her, his fingers still buried between her thighs.
As she lay there, the busy sounds of the pleasure house infiltrated her sexual high. She’d behaved in a way that would shock society and amuse her mother. She didn’t even dare contemplate what her father or Christian would say.
She opened her eyes. She had no idea what to say to Lord Swanfield either. He’d left all the talking to her, and she suspected he’d continue to do so. Should she thank him, or should she simply say good night and go on her way as if nothing had happened? What did people normally do in situations like this when they had just tried to bite off a man’s cock?
Lord Swanfield rolled off her and seemed to be setting himself to rights. She turned her head to look at him. He caught her gaze and stopped what he was doing.
“Do you not want me to get dressed?” He gestured at his soaked pantaloons. “Do you want more?” He’d give her more if she wanted it. He’d give her anything after that last voracious coupling. She seemed to weigh her answer, her gaze fixed on the opening of his pantaloons. His cock responded to her interest even though he was sore as hell and he gritted his teeth.
“I’m … fine,” she whispered.
She didn’t sound fine. Gabriel concentrated on stuffing his rebellious cock back into his pantaloons and assumed the most neutral expression he could manage. If she wanted to treat him politely, he could do the same. All he had to do was pretend she was just another client from the salon, someone who would forget him in an instant when he had provided what she wanted.
But, God, he didn’t feel like that. He was shaken by the intensity of his response to her, the way she’d made him feel so out of control.
Devil take it, he needed to go home. He got to his feet and bowed.
“If you don’t require my services anymore, ma’am, I’ll wish you good night.” Good, that was formal enough and gave them the opportunity to part with at least some dignity.
“Are you going back to find another customer?”
He flinched both at the quiet question and the assumption behind it. “Do you imagine I ‘perform’ like this with all the guests?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen you with anyone else, have I?”
He heard it clearly then, the hurt behind her words, her fear that she was just one of a crowd of faceless people whom he’d serviced. How strange that a woman who’d practically devoured his cock could be so unsure of her hold on him now. He knelt down beside her and took her hand, studying the luscious swollen curves of her trembling mouth.
“Thank you for letting me come.” He kissed her fingers. “Will you let me attend to you tomorrow night?”
She looked into his eyes and he almost forgot all the well-thought-out reasons why he needed to leave her.
“Yes.”
He kissed her then and just managed to pull away. She lay on the floor, her soft muslin skirts spread around her like a flower, one stockinged leg bent at the knee and out to one side. He licked his lips and yearned to follow the shadowed curve of her thigh to her sex and place his mouth over it. But, as her servant, he wasn’t supposed to ask for anything, he was supposed to wait to be asked and then obey.
“Why aren’t you leaving?” she asked softly.
Because he couldn’t.
Without speaking, he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on
her bent knee, kissed a little higher and breathed in the thick scent of her arousal. She didn’t stop him, and he felt the brush of her fingers in his hair as he inched ever closer to his goal. He paused to draw back her skirt and petticoat, exposing her cunt to his avid gaze. His tongue met her clit and he explored it slowly, flicked his way over and around it until it throbbed against his flesh. He widened his exploration to include her swollen lips and the hot wet center of her.
She gasped as he slid his tongue deep, used it as he wanted to use his cock on her, a constant thrust and retreat until she grabbed hold of his shoulders and urged him onward and upward. When she shuddered to a climax, he was glad that he’d had the sense to rebutton his placket. Otherwise he’d have been inside her as she came, felt her contract against his shaft, filled her with his seed.
With that last thought came sanity and he slowly moved away from her. He kissed her knee once more.
“Thank you. I have to go now. Will I see you tomorrow?”
She managed a nod and he got up and retreated to the door. He stepped into the hallway and took a deep calming breath. And it
was
a retreat, not yet a rout. He needed to get away from her to regroup and remind himself of all the reasons why he’d chosen the pleasure house for his sexual salvation.
Wanting to shove his cock into Lisette Ross was not part of his plan at all, but he knew he’d be back on the morrow, that it wasn’t as simple as just walking away from her. He could still taste her in his mouth, and had a sneaking suspicion that he always would.
His mind in a whirl, he changed into his normal clothes and bade a smiling Marie-Claude a distracted good night. He felt more sexually sated than he ever had before and that was the most worrying thing of all. Tonight he knew he would be able to sleep without waking to either a nightmare or wanting sex.
He glanced up at the imposing façade of the pleasure house
and knew he’d be back, that he’d follow this through to the end. He had a suspicion that Lisette would either be the making of him or complete his utter destruction. He even managed a smile at his own dramatic imagery. Whatever happened, it was better than the way he’d been living, wasn’t it?
“Are you all right, Lisette?”
Lisette saw Marie-Claude peeping through a crack in the door and feebly beckoned her to come in.
“I think so.”
“But you are lying on the floor.”
Lisette rolled onto her side and then managed to sit up. Her muscles protested the motion and she closed her eyes.
“Lisette.” Marie-Claude shook her arm and she opened her eyes again. “I was worried about you. You disappeared about two hours ago.”
With Marie-Claude’s help, Lisette managed to sit in a chair. “I’m fine, I just forgot to get up.”
Marie-Claude chuckled. “Was my Lord Swanfield that good?”
“Yes, he was.” Lisette tried to smile but ended up having to bite her lip to stop it from trembling. “Did he … go off with someone else?”
“No. I saw him changing his clothes and then he left. He seemed somewhat lost in thought and now I realize why.”
“I think I surprised him.”
“Well, that is good, is it not? A man like that needs to be kept on his toes.” Marie-Claude patted her shoulder. “Now why don’t you join me in the kitchen for a cup of hot chocolate before you retire? You look as if you need something to restore you.”
“Marie-Claude, I bit his cock, I forced him to come in his pantaloons.”
“If you are that hungry, you should eat something more substantial. A nice pork sausage, perhaps?”
“It’s not funny, Marie-Claude. I … behaved appallingly.”
“And did monsieur protest?”
Lisette heard the echo of Lord Swanfield’s passionate groans and the way he’d literally become weak at the knees. “No, he seemed to like it.”
Marie-Claude’s smile faded. “Lisette, when he comes here, he chooses to play the role of a servant. He obviously likes giving up sexual control to his partner, so why shouldn’t that partner be you?”
“Because I am trying to behave in a more conventional and ladylike manner.” Lisette headed toward the door and found her legs were still shaking. “It was humiliating. I simply didn’t like seeing all those people touching him and I overreacted.”
“I understand.” Marie-Claude smoothed a comforting hand over her back as they descended the servants’ stairs. “Perhaps we can do something about that.”
Lisette stopped. “No, we can’t interfere. He has to
choose
to be with me alone.”
“You are right, of course.” Marie-Claude held open the door that led into the kitchen. “I noticed that tonight, he seemed less inclined to seek out other people to arouse him. I assumed he was waiting for you.”
“Really?” Lisette found herself able to smile again. She sat down on the kitchen bench and waited for Marie-Claude to join her with the hot chocolate that Madame Durand always kept simmering on the stove. She pictured Lord Swanfield’s reverent expression as he had lifted her skirts and licked his way up to her sex. She’d wanted his cock inside her so badly at that moment and wondered if he had been tempted, too.
“I want him to make love to me.”
“I thought you wanted to redeem your reputation?”
“I do!” Lisette stared at her laughing friend. “But I also want him.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, I don’t know what I want anymore. As usual, I seem to be caught
between my two worlds. Lord Swanfield has made me act like a dithering debutante with a nasty set of teeth.”
“Hardly that.” Marie-Claude sipped at her hot chocolate and sighed. “He’s been a guest here for almost a year and I’ve never seen him have sex with anyone.”
“There has to be some way to convince him to bed me.” Lisette frowned in thought. “But I already know to my cost that he is a very stubborn man.”