Page 25 of Duke of Wickedness (Regency Gods #4)

She suspected that she herself was—to borrow David’s words—a bit boring and conventional in that she didn’t find herself even passingly curious about kissing a woman herself, but there was something…

wondrous about knowing that these two women, who kept pulling back to murmur sweetly to one another, could do that, even if only in this place.

“People like this,” David said, when they passed a person with a blacksmith’s broad build and a rugged beard wearing a gorgeous, elaborate frock that would have been the envy of every woman at Almack’s, “need a place to go. There are few places that are safe for those who prefer to partner in less traditional ways.”

“So you have provided them one,” Ariadne observed. It was easy to get distracted by the many, many exciting things happening around her, but something was tugging at the back of her mind about what David was saying.

He didn’t quite meet her eyes as he shrugged.

“I have the means,” he said, as though it was as simple as that.

“And, jokes aside, I really am conventional compared to people who could end up imprisoned or transported for so stupid a reason as loving someone .” Those last words were disgusted, as though he couldn’t think of anything more corrupt.

And something inside Ariadne twisted with—she couldn’t call it anything else—fondness.

“And I have power,” David went on. “Yes, people talk about my reputation, but it’s never cost me a business deal. I’ve never been cut. Maybe some of the prissier aristocrats don’t want to talk to me but—well, let’s be realistic. I don’t want to talk to them either.

“But others.” He paused. “They have their lives ruined. They have constables storming into their homes, their businesses. But nobody will ever raid this house. Not when it belongs to the Duke of Wilds.”

There was a bitterness to the way he said his title.

Ariadne grabbed his hand.

“David,” she said. “You are a good man.”

And David, God bless him, looked horrified.

“I—good God, Ar—little bird,” he amended hastily, and she was touched by his discretion. “Don’t say that .”

She wanted to impress upon him her sincerity, but it wasn’t the time or the place, so she just laughed and squeezed his arm. If she let the motion push her breasts up against him the tiniest bit, well, she wasn’t a saint. And she was far from immune to the heady atmosphere of the party.

“Come on,” she said. “Unless this is the most you have to show me?”

David straightened his shoulders and tugged his collar. When he pasted on an offended look this time, he seemed lighter beneath it.

“Certainly not,” he said. “Tell me, my dear, do you feel that you are ready for the full tour? But I must warn you: these outer rooms are the tamest of the lot.”

There was a challenge in his voice. Ariadne was no coward.

“Lead the way, dear sir,” she said pertly.

As they moved further away from the front of the house, the bodies became more plentiful and the clothing became scarcer.

And the activities grew more…creative.

There were people in groups, which, even after seeing those images earlier in the week, was shocking to see in real life. But the part that stuck with Ariadne the most was the people who were using props .

There was, for example, a man bent over a settee at the waist. He and his partner might have been some of the tamest of the lot, being only one man and one woman, and both fully clothed, except the lady was paddling the man’s derriere while he enthusiastically egged her on.

There were people with their hands bound, people with their eyes covered.

Some ignored Ariadne and David as they walked through the house, too occupied in their specific activities to be distracted by any newcomers, but others looked back at her with the same fascination with which she looked at them.

No one approached. No one even spoke to her. She was, after all, on the arm of their host—and a few people did greet David by name or title, suggesting that, even masked, he was far from unrecognizable.

It was heady. Ariadne felt…

She felt like a queen. She felt like a goddess. She practically preened under their attention.

They kept moving, her head swiveling to take everything in, and maybe that made her look ridiculous, but she was too fascinated to care.

And then she saw them.

There were three of them in the group—two men and a lady, though only one of the men and the lady were making any physical contact. They kissed and caressed one another, groaning as hands roamed and mouths pressed.

And the second man sat, tied to a chair , and watched, a litany of filth and praise falling from his lips.

“Look at her,” he said—speaking, presumably, to the other man. “Isn’t she perfect? Isn’t she gorgeous? Wouldn’t you just die for her?”

The kissing man pulled back long enough to groan out, “Fuck, yes. I’d die happily,” before sucking against the lady’s neck.

The lady said nothing, but she wore a smug, satisfied smile as she accepted this praise as her due.

“Do you like what you see?” David murmured in Ariadne’s ear.

She nodded, too enthralled to even play at bashfulness at being caught.

“Do you want to watch?” he asked.

She did look away at that, glancing, startled, at David.

“We…can do that?” Not averting her eyes as they moved through semi-public spaces was one thing, but the way David said watch indicated more than that.

“Oh, sweet bird,” he said, pressing a kiss to the spot behind her ear at the exact moment that the kissing man did the same thing to his partner, albeit from a different angle. “That’s why they’ve left that settee open.” He nodded toward the furniture in question. “They want to be watched.”

“I look very pretty,” the woman said—her first words since they’d arrived, and Ariadne was shocked to hear herself addressed. “You should watch. You should enjoy.”

“Yes,” encouraged the bound man, though he didn’t look away from the embracing couple. “Let’s show them how lovely you can make her, eh, pet?”

The kissing man nodded, then kissed his way down the woman’s collarbone and across her decolletage.

Well , Ariadne thought, sounding faintly hysterical even inside her own mind, with an invitation like that, who am I to refuse?

She let herself get absorbed in the scene before her, let David guide her over to the settee, trusting herself to him entirely.

“Keep going,” the bound man encouraged, as the kissing man drew up the lady’s skirts. His position blocked much of their movement from Ariadne’s prying eyes—even if they were pleased to have her and David as an audience, the pair were clearly performing first and foremost for the bound man.

“There’s pleasure in watching, isn’t there?” David crooned, sending a shiver down Ariadne’s spine. “Watching without doing anything. It lets the heat build slowly, slowly… slowly .”

With each slowly, he tapped a finger down the knobs of Ariadne’s spine. When he reached her ribs, he snuck an arm around her waist. Ariadne couldn’t resist the urge to turn her face, hoping for a kiss, but David gently grasped her chin and turned her back toward the scene.

“Watch,” he said. “Don’t you see how it pleases them all? He—” A gesture toward the seated man. “—thrills at being able to direct, but not touch. He—” The active man. “—touches, but are they really his touches, when they’re being directed by another? And she?—”

He paused long enough to press an open-mouthed kiss to the back of Ariadne’s neck, his hand spread across her stomach, each of his fingers pressing distinctly into her.

Something about those distinct little points of pressure sent little jolts of pleasure through her.

She pressed back more firmly against him, bent her head forward to give him better access.

She was starting to dislike this settee enormously; it wasn’t suitable at all for doing what she wanted to do, which was getting David’s hands on far, far more of her. Or his mouth. Or both. She wasn’t picky.

She was entranced by what she was seeing before her, of course, but she was—perhaps the best word for it was jealous .

The lady had all of her partners' attention.

. And while it was fascinating and arousing to watch this strange power arrangement between the two men as they combined their efforts to unravel their lady…

Well, Ariadne wanted to be the subject of one gentleman’s attentions. She didn’t want to share them, not even slightly. And she wanted more of them.

Right now.

“ She ,” the woman interrupted archly, “likes to be admired. Admire me, please.”

Ariadne jerked her head back up, a blush spreading across her cheeks. David laughed, though his grip on her waist didn’t budge.

“I will admire you,” the kissing man said hastily. “I shall admire you.”

“Under her skirts, then,” the sitting man commanded almost lazily.

The other man dropped immediately to his knees. Ariadne goggled as he disappeared beneath the voluminous skirts of her gown.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” David called out in apology when the standing woman still glared at them imperiously through her mask. “You are lovely, of course, but can you blame me for being distracted?”

The woman’s expression softened, and she offered Ariadne a quick wink before letting her head drop back as her partner did…well, whatever he was doing beneath her skirts.

“I suppose not,” she murmured to the ceiling. “But go distract your lady elsewhere, dear sir. I am busy being the center of attention.”

Elsewhere. Yes, Ariadne thought. Elsewhere was good.

She turned to face David fully, then tugged at his neckcloth until he was looking at her, only at her.

When she was confident that she had his undivided attention—and only then—she kissed him.

There was the tiniest flicker of surprise made evident when he hesitated for a split second before kissing her back, offering every bit of passion she poured back into him tenfold.

They kissed until they had to stop to breathe, and when Ariadne’s eyes fluttered open, she saw a look in his eye that she had never seen before.

It was hunger, yes, but she’d seen him desirous before.

This was… Well, he was like a man starving, like he would die if he didn’t get his mouth on her again.

And Ariadne could have understood that easily enough—she was feeling rather catastrophically desirous herself, as if she was made of a hurricane of wanting and needing that could spiral into destruction if those needs weren’t met.

But beneath David’s wanting…

Well, it almost looked like anger .

But she blinked, and then it was gone, and then he was kissing her again.

“Shall we go somewhere private?” he asked against her lips.

Ariadne nearly injured herself with the vehemence of her nod.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Please. Right now.”