Page 87 of A Gentleman's Wager

Bella curled her fingers into her palms, bracing herself for his attack. She would strike him if he attempted anything rough. But his touch was soft, a caress to her cheek that then fell to her breast and made her whimper entirely involuntarily. She might hate him with a passion, but there was no denying he excited her. His body, his threats, the way his expression softened when he gazed at Lucerne. How she wished he would look at her just once in such a way. She wanted to cough the notion right out of her mouth, but she realised too, that to deny it would only give it power, and she refused to hand him a smidgen more than he already possessed.

His touch circled around the side of her breast. “What a display you make of yourself. Why I could lean forward right now and tongue your nipples without removing even a stitch of your clothing.”

He’d sucked her thus before, and she remembered too vividly the sensation. Could not help looking down as if she would find him already bowed to the task. A fierce ache wakened in her cunny. It recalled too eagerly the kiss of his cock. Lucerne was her future, but Vaughan… Vaughan was a delicacy too enticing to resist.

“Torture,” she laughed. “Why, you are giving me precisely what I sought.”

“Is that so?” He swivelled his hips against hers, provoking another reflexive squeak. “Tell me, in what manner do you aim to have me? By force, or seduction?”

Bella placed her open hand upon his thigh. The heat of him radiated through his clothing. He always seemed unnaturally warm. She caught the smell of his musk too, herbal with an undercurrent of something that made her want to breathe deeply.

“By catching you off guard, of course.”

“I see. And for that reason alone, you followed me into the dark?” His tongue tickled the lobe of her ear.

Not wholly for that reason. In fact, not for that reason at all, though she was hard pressed to deny it now as her traitorous body responded to his, by becoming all soft and warm.

“You would probably have to drug me, which would give you no satisfaction, although perhaps I could be persuaded to let you arouse me with your tongue.”

Her mind skipped over his meanness, thoughts narrowing in on what he offered instead. Her pulse quickened. Rarely was she offered that pleasure with such boldness and candour. The opportunity to hold him powerless in her mouth made her head swim like she’d imbibed a heady wine.

“Tell me first, and truly though, is it your cunny or your arse that craves the kiss of my prick the most?” The mockery in his grin swung her emotions back to anger.

“I don’t want you at all,” she snapped. “I thought you meant to meet Lucerne.”

If she’d had any notion of his reaction, then perhaps she would have held her tongue, or told him sooner and in more explicit terms. The fire drained from his person.

“I see,” he snarled in a voice like fimbulwinter. He seized hold of her arm in a biting grip and dragged her from the cubbyhole.

“Vaughan. Vaughan,” she pleaded, but he was unrelenting. Dragging her though the east wing and throwing her through the door of Lucerne’s sitting room. “There. Go to him.”

The viscount stood in surprise. He was dressed in his night attire, a quilted banyan of peacocks and primroses tied over his nightshirt. “What the devil?” He caught her as she tripped, so that only one of her knees hit the floor. The graze stung, and had likely put a hole in her stocking, but it was the abrasion to her pride that hurt.

Having set her to rights on her feet, Lucerne turned his head towards the marquis again. Vaughan had not moved from his position on the threshold. The dark of the doorway formed a black maw to his rear. His colour was up. Two bright streaks of red across the ridges of his cheekbones, while his shoulders, limbs, the whole of him trembled with fury. “Vaughan?” Lucerne asked, brows rumpled with confusion.

Leaving Bella resting against the settee back, he crossed to Vaughan, his arms open. “What is this? What has happened?”

When he received no answer, he looked back at Bella, but she had no explanation for him either.

“Vaughan?”

Pennerley stepped backwards when Lucerne reached for him. “Don’t,” he barked, his jaw locked so hard Bella swore she heard the grinding of his teeth. “I gave you what you asked, but I won’t be a pawn in your game.”

“My game?”

“With her.”

“If I had any notion of what you meant—” Lucerne reached out again towards Vaughan’s head, only to have his hand violently slapped aside.

“Do not take me for a fool. First your performance in the corridor, and now this. I won’t be toyed with.”

Lucerne rubbed his thumb back and forth across his own lip. Bella was shocked to see tears in Vaughan’s eyes. An expression of his anger, no doubt, but it lent him a vulnerability she’d never attributed to him before.

“Whatever game you imagine is being played, I assure you doesn’t exist.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

“Aye,” Lucerne said, with an accompanying nod of the head. “I do, because, it’s the truth.” He opened his arms out wide. “Come, let us be friends. There is no argument that needs to be had here. Let me kiss you and end this nonsense.”