Page 11 of Duke with a Lie (Wicked Dukes Society #4)

She tried not to squirm in her chair as she watched the couple continuing to remove garments, caressing and kissing as they went.

Her mind wandered to Richford and thoughts of what it would be like to touch him so freely.

To kiss him and take off his coat and shirt. To run her hands over his bare chest.

Her heart quickened.

“Have you done this before?” she asked him, unable to quell her curiosity, slanting a look toward his handsome profile. “Watched a couple like this, I mean?”

“Yes.”

His simple answer only left her wanting to know more.

She bit her lower lip, sure she shouldn’t ask the next question swirling through her mind and yet needing to know.

“And have you been watched before?”

He finally looked away from the viewing window, his emerald gaze searing her in a place she hadn’t realized existed, deep within. “You’re terribly interested in me suddenly, minx.”

She had always been interested in him. There was nothing sudden about it. Just as she had always admired him and longed for him from afar. What had begun as a girl’s foolish yearnings had never ended. But her pride wouldn’t allow her to admit that.

“I’m meant to have an education,” she reminded him instead.

“Yes,” he told her at last. “I have.”

Rhiannon hadn’t been prepared for his response.

She had already guessed at the answer, of course, but somehow, hearing it from his lips had a whole new effect on her.

The notion of Richford engaging in such debauchery at once thrilled and repelled her.

Her body reacted with a mind all its own, a rush of instant desire tearing through her.

But she was also painfully jealous of the lovers he’d known, of the mysterious observers who had been privileged to be his audience.

“Do you…do so often?”

He shrugged as if he hadn’t a care. “When the mood strikes me.”

There was nothing she could think of to say to his frank admission, so she looked away, eyes pinned to the viewing window once more. She was intensely aware of his regard, still on her, of his presence at her side, of everything about him, so potently masculine, so sinful and wicked, so tempting.

“Have I finally shocked you into silence?”

She licked her lips, staring at the couple without truly seeing them. “Not at all. Your reputation precedes you, Richford.”

“I can assure you, my dear, that my reputation doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I’ve done,” he drawled.

She didn’t doubt that either. He was a voluptuary.

Although the gossip concerning him was as plentiful as it was scandalous, she had never heard a thing about viewing windows or the observation of others engaged in sexual congress.

She was doing her utmost to appear nonchalant and even bored for Richford’s sake, but she was secretly anything but.

“I’m sure you go about doing all manner of sinful things,” she said lightly.

“As does everyone within these walls, which is why you don’t belong here.”

She ignored him, watching the scene in the bedchamber continue to unfold. The lady was out of her undergarments now, clad in only a chemise. The gentleman was wearing his drawers, and the lady’s hand was cupping the front placket where…

“Oh my heavens,” she muttered before she could stop herself.

There, clearly outlined, was his manhood, thinly covered by the cotton of his drawers.

“We can return you to the haven of your room at any time,” Richford reminded her.

“I find this far too intriguing,” she informed him. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“As you prefer, minx.”

He was still watching her; she could see it from her peripheral vision, but she could also feel it, like a touch, sending fire licking through her body. She was flushed and overheated. The narrow room lacked sufficient air. Why hadn’t she thought to bring a fan with her?

The man pulled the woman’s chemise over her head in one graceful motion, leaving her standing there naked.

Rhiannon gaped. She’d never seen a woman nude, except for herself.

The redhead’s breasts were smaller than hers, but aside from that difference, they were much the same.

What shocked her most was the other woman’s lack of hesitation or shyness in her nudity, even knowing she was being observed.

The man’s head dipped, and he took the woman’s nipple into his mouth.

Rhiannon inhaled sharply as the redhead’s back arched and she threaded her fingers through the man’s dark hair.

The expression on the woman’s face suggested she was enjoying the gentleman’s attentions very much, and Rhiannon’s own nipples ached in response.

What would it feel like, to have a man’s mouth there?

She tried to imagine the Earl of Carnis making such a daring overture and couldn’t.

Instead, she wondered what it would be like to have Richford’s mouth on her. To have those sinful, sensual lips at her breast. The throbbing ache between her thighs said she would like it more than she should.

The man’s hands were on the redhead’s naked body, traveling over her curves to her hips. They continued their slow caress until one hand came to grip her bare bottom and the other dipped into the cove at the apex of her thighs as he continued to suckle her breasts.

“Are you properly horrified yet?” Richford asked, his voice going husky.

“No,” she murmured, keeping her attention upon the window. “Not at all.”

Instead, she was intrigued. Interested. She wanted to know what it would be like to be in the other woman’s place. To have a man worshiping her with his hands and mouth. Not just any man. Richford.

In the bedchamber, the hand the man had placed between the woman’s legs began to move.

The redhead’s mouth fell open, her head tipping back as her body undulated in time with his ministrations.

Rhiannon had never seen such an expression of raw desire on someone’s countenance.

She watched in rapt fascination as the man suddenly ceased his attentions and guided the woman to the waiting bed.

“Is it over already?” she asked Richford, disappointed.

He chuckled. “Hardly. It’s only just begun.”

The man helped the woman to drape herself over the bed sideways, then lowered himself to join her.

But instead of pressing his form against hers, he remained at her feet, urging her legs to part.

Rhiannon could feel her pulse pounding between her own thighs.

Her entire body was wound tighter than a watch spring.

She was achy and almost feverish. The room might as well have been aflame. Heavens, she might as well have been.

Still clad in his drawers, the man splayed his hands on the woman’s inner thighs, pushing them open. The woman cupped her breasts and teased her nipples, casting him a sultry glance down her body.

“What does he intend to do?” Rhiannon asked Richford in a hushed whisper.

Her body was so flushed, her desire so acutely teased to the point of breaking, that the very air around her felt as if it might shatter if she but moved.

“He’s going to use his tongue on her.”

Richford’s words settled over her like a taunting caress.

“His tongue?” Her mind struggled to function properly.

“Watch.”

She bit her lip, flushed and achy and needy. She felt things she’d never felt before. It was surely wrong, watching the couple engage in such private congress. It was wicked and sinful, and that was what she liked about it. But having her curiosity satisfied was also a potent lure.

“What if they forgot we are here?” she asked, heart pounding as the man’s head lowered.

“They haven’t.” Richford’s voice was deep and low, resonating with certainty.

The man pressed a kiss to the woman’s inner thigh. Good heavens, Rhiannon was going to catch on fire.

“How can you be so sure?” she hissed at him.

“Knowing they are watched heightens the enjoyment for them, just as watching is pleasurable to us.”

In the bedchamber, the man kissed the woman’s other thigh, moving steadily nearer to her mound and yet still not directly touching her there.

Did Rhiannon like watching these two strangers tease and seduce each other?

She hadn’t been prepared to do so, and yet she couldn’t deny the effect it was having upon her.

“What is he going to do with his tongue?” she asked, desperately seeking to distract herself.

A thin trickle of perspiration went down her spine, and she shifted restlessly on her chair, seeking an ease to her own agony and finding none.

“Patience, minx.”

The gentleman was kissing along the lady’s inner thigh now, traveling ever higher.

The woman, meanwhile, grew impatient. She rolled her hips and clutched at his dark head, urging him to her center.

Rhiannon’s heart pounded faster as the man burrowed his face there, in the woman’s most intimate place.

The man’s tongue glided over the woman’s flesh, making her writhe and moan.

Good heavens, was he…licking her?

“He’s tasting her,” Richford elaborated, as if Rhiannon needed to hear the words.

She didn’t.

The books she had managed to secret and read had said nothing of this .

The man on the bed guided the redhead’s legs over his shoulders, and he began feasting upon her in truth.

“Oh my,” she whispered. “Is his tongue going into her the way his manhood would?”

“If you want to play wicked games, then you must call it what it is, minx. A cock.”

She swallowed hard, still unable to look away from the man pleasuring the woman so thoroughly that she was crying out now, hips pumping against his face. Even with the wall and pane of glass separating them, her lusty moans of rapture could be heard. Rhiannon’s face flamed.

She could scarcely believe she was watching two people cavort before her, all while the Duke of Richford sat unaffected at her side.

The man rose onto his knees, reaching for the fastening of his drawers. Rhiannon couldn’t deny that she was unbearably curious to see the man’s manhood—no, cock —spring free. Another button slipped open. Two more to go.

But suddenly, she was being pushed away from the viewing window.

“Enough,” Richford growled, his hands clamped on her waist for a moment as he unceremoniously thrust her toward the door before releasing her again. “You’ve seen all you needed to see.”

“But I haven’t,” she protested, struggling with him without effect.

He was larger than she was, tall and strong and well-muscled, capable of keeping her from returning to the observation window.

“Oh yes, you bloody well have, minx,” he said grimly. “Any more, and your brother will have my head on a goddamned pike.”

“Not if he doesn’t find out.” She spun until her back was pressed to the door. “You promised me an education in pleasure, and you can’t stop before it’s finished.”

“Yes, I can,” he countered. “And I am. Now, curse you.”

His scent teased her. In the shadows, his expression was elusive and unreadable. He seemed furious, but that made no sense. Why would he be angry with Rhiannon if she was only following along with the adventure he had offered?

Unless…

Was Richford not as impervious as he pretended?

Could it be that he was every bit as deeply affected by watching the couple as she had been?

That he was also currently swimming in an ocean of lust, closer to drowning with every second that passed?

And not just because of the couple in the bedchamber, but because the two of them had been alone in this small room together?

“But my education is far from complete,” she pointed out boldly, testing her suspicions. “The gentleman was about to disrobe completely when you so rudely interrupted. I didn’t even get to see him.”

“You aren’t going to see him either,” the duke snarled.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.” He stalked nearer to her, all but pinning her to the door.

She couldn’t leave even if she wanted to.

But she didn’t want to. She wanted to stay where she was. With him.

“That’s hardly a sufficient reason,” she protested, a bit breathless now.

“Rhiannon,” he ground out, his face lowering toward hers.

Her name. Not minx , not little na?f , not even Lady Rhiannon , not anything else. Just Rhiannon. And oh, how everything within her thrilled at the realization.

Could it be that the Duke of Richford was losing control, and that it was all because of her? Rhiannon’s heart leapt.

She smiled up at him, feeling powerful and bold. “Yes?”

“If you don’t get out of here in the next five seconds, I’m going to do something we’ll both regret,” he warned.

But how wrong he was. There was nothing this beautiful man could do to her that she would ever regret.

“I’m not ready to leave yet,” she returned, nettled with herself for the unsteadiness in her voice.

The longing.

She had been waiting years for the Duke of Richford to want her, and she wasn’t about to move away from the door. Not if her life depended on it.