Page 12 of In a Rake’s Embrace (Sins & Sensibilities #3)
CHAPTER 12
A gatha allowed calm to flow through her body as she sauntered forward, every step infused with a gentle, seductive grace. Her pulse quickened under the weight of his gaze—intense and unreadable. The quiet room seemed to shrink around them.
Thomas tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Good,” he murmured, his voice low, almost daring her. “Tempt me.”
Her breath caught momentarily, and Agatha hesitated, his dark, penetrating gaze leaving her breathless. She knew this was the moment to prove herself, to demonstrate everything he had taught her—how power could be subtle yet potent. His eyes tracked her every movement, the rise and fall of his chest steady yet controlled, but there was no mistaking the hunger simmering in the brilliance of that gaze.
She stopped so close that the hem of her gown brushed over his polished boots. Holding his gaze, Agatha let her fingers trail lightly along the edge of his shirt sleeve, a fleeting touch to provoke anticipation. His eyes never left hers, darkening with interest. Agatha leaned in just enough that her breath warmed his neck, her lips barely an inch from his skin. The anticipation built between them like a tightrope.
“Like this?” she whispered, curving her mouth into a knowing smile as she teased him with her closeness.
She could feel his heartbeat quicken in the charged silence, yet his expression remained indifferent. Agatha was impressed with how tightly he held his control. Thomas’s hand came up, fingertips grazing her jawline with a featherlight touch, sending a tremor through her.
“Keep going,” he urged, his voice huskier now.
Agatha let her eyes drift to his mouth and parted her lips in expectation as she leaned closer. She closed the distance slowly, her lips grazing his with a teasing softness, barely making contact. Thomas exhaled sharply, his control slipping ever so slightly, and that was all the invitation she needed.
The kiss deepened as she pressed closer, her hand sliding up his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath the fabric. His lips were firm yet pliant, responding with a hunger that matched hers. Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer as their mouths moved against each other, tongues gliding in a sensual rhythm, slow and deliberate at first, before the urgency grew.
His hand moved to her waist, fingers tightening slightly as if to remind her that, for all her progress, he was still in control. But Agatha wasn’t going to let him have it that easily. She sucked his tongue as he had done hers that first night and a groan vibrated from his chest in response.
Triumph surged through her when he pulled her even tighter against him, his body hard and unyielding. She felt the heat of his want, the unmistakable tension coiling between them. Pulling back just enough to break the kiss, her lips brushing against his, she whispered, “Is such a kiss acceptable?”
His eyes darkened further, a dangerous gleam in them. “It was ... adequate.”
Affront snapped through her, and she narrowed her gaze. She slipped her hand between the tight space between their bodies, brushing the back of her fingers over the hardness at the front of his trousers. Her lips curled into a wicked smile. “Adequate enough to have your cock aching.”
He let out a low, amused sound. “You are right; it was more than adequate.”
“I want to hear more,” she teased.
Thomas touched her face. His fingertips slid over her cheek as though he enjoyed the feel of her skin. “Ah, your vanity needs soothing.”
“Yes.”
“My cock is hard, and my balls areaching. I know I will need a release to make it through the night.”
A cold sensation pierced her chest. “You are not allowed another lover while you tutor me.”
He faltered into astonishing stillness, his gaze growing indifferent. The words had ripped from Agatha before she processed the peculiar sensations wrenching through her chest. The earl stared at her for several beats, and she held his regard, waiting for his cutting words.
“Very well. I will not take another woman to my bed while you are in my life.”
Startled, she stared at him, uncertain what to say. “Then how will you relieve this ache in your cock.”
His smile widened. “I’ll merely will it away or use my hands.”
Swallowing, she stepped back, painfully aware of his gaze on her. Agatha walked to the mantel, pouring herself a glass of champagne before filling a glass of whisky for him. After handing it to him, she went to the sofa, sat down, and curled her legs beneath her.
“What am I learning tonight?”
Thomas took a healthy swallow of his whisky before replying. “Men vary in their needs and desires, just as women do. Rebecca promised her patrons that her ladies could fulfill whatever desire they owned. It is why many gentlemen seek Aphrodite . The fantasies that torment their sleep need an outlet, and considering her promise, they come here and pay her exorbitant fees to be satisfied. Given that we have just over two weeks, we will focus on discovering what you like ... and what you will and will not allow without swooning.”
His eyes darkened slightly. “I will also teach you how to give a man pleasure with your mouth and hand. These lessons will strip away whatever sensibilities you hold on to, but I promise you will be confident and ready by the night of the auction.”
A wicked thrill coursed through her as she turned over his words in her mind. “Have you been with many of the ladies here?”
His gaze became hooded. “I have been with a few.”
Agatha tilted her head, studying him. “What are your desires ... and boundaries?”
“I will not be bidding for you, so what does it matter?” he replied smoothly.
Her breath hitched, and she felt a sudden bemusement—her thoughts had not wandered along those lines. “Are you so certain you would not bid for me?”
“Yes.”
The immediate answer was startling. “Why?”
“The truth might offend your vanity and sensibilities.”
“I am learning to set them aside,” she said, tipping her glass of champagne to her lips.
He leaned back slightly, his gaze piercing. “Pussy comes too easily to me for me to pay five thousand pounds for it.”
Agatha spluttered on her drink, caught off guard.
“Such self-conceit,” she managed to say, amusement creeping into her tone.
“Of course,” he replied, utterly unapologetic.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You are unrepentant.”
“I have been accused of it,” he said, a gleam in his eyes. Then, softer, “You have a lovely laugh.”
Those words drifted over her skin like fire, unsettling her composure entirely. She delicately cleared her throat. “What are the varied desires that men own?”
“There are many. Some men enjoy binding their partner’s arms and legs.”
She wrinkled her nose, not liking the notion of being so helpless before anyone, especially someone she did not know or trust. “I would not allow that.”
He nodded. “Some like flogging or spanking their lovers across their thighs, arse, breasts.”
“I would not like that and could not suffer it to please another!”
His gaze gleamed. “Some delight in only pleasing their women, devastating their senses without receiving anything in return.”
Agatha stilled. “Truly?”
“Indeed,” Thomas murmured, his tone deepening. “Take a gentleman I know who visits a particular woman here—Lady Bea.”
“I have spoken with her several times. Bea is delightful.”
“Hmm, this gentleman seems to think so as well. He goes to her boudoir once or twice a weekand presumably does not allow her to touch him. He focuses entirely on her pleasure, and when you walk past her room, you can often hear her pleading for mercy.”
A dart of heat pierced low in Agatha’s belly, surprising her. “If it is pleasurable, why would she beg for mercy?”
The earl smiled and rose to his feet. He refilled his glass with whisky before saying, “Follow me.”
Agatha complied, trailing alongside the earl from the private room, down the hall, and down the stairs into a large open room. He gestured toward the ceiling, and she looked up, gasping. The ceiling was lavishly painted, capturing a scene that was as carnal as it was captivating: a voluptuous, naked woman surrounded by five men, each worshipping her with their lips. One man’s face was nestled between her thighs, another kissed her breasts, and a third pressed his mouth against her throat. Each man seemed absorbed in tasting or touching some part of her exposed skin.
“Look at her face,” Thomas murmured.
Agatha’s heart raced. The woman’s expression was one of pleasure, yet there was a hint of something more … almost a grimace, perhaps.
“Is she in pain?”
“Pleasure can be so overwhelming it borders on agony,” he drawled, sipping his whisky, his eyes darkening as they settled on her.
His gaze sent a ripple of heat over her skin, and she blushed at the rising desire she couldn’t quite control.
The earl inclined his chin, signaling their return to the fourth floor. Agatha followed, her thoughts a whirlwind of curiosity and questions. Once they reached his private quarters, she settled on the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her. The earl poured another glass of champagne and handed it to her, her fingers curling around the delicate stem.
He sat in the armchair opposite, arching a brow as he observed her. “What are your thoughts about this one? A gentleman with this desire might bid for you, and he might win.”
“Are there many men here with this … need?”
“The gentleman I mentioned seems to enjoy this weekly.”
Agatha suspected he was referring to Mr. Armstrong. “If he wants Bea so much ... why would he bid on me?”
“He does not only visit Bea. Every Wednesday, he picks Lady Ellen.”
Goodness . “I see.”
“And he is not the only man with such desires. Many like to see their women come undone.”
Are you one of those men? Agatha’s breath hitched at the errant thought. “Perhaps I could set a boundary where the gentleman must comply when I say stop?”
“You could,” Thomas said.
“But you do not think it is wise.”
“Yes.”
Her fingers tightened on the glass. “Why?”
“It is practical,” he replied, “but you will lose half the men who might bid for you. Setting boundaries is important, but saying ‘stop when I ask’ is too broad. That leaves too much to interpretation. They could pay hundreds of pounds for you, and, at the slightest provocation, you call the night to a halt. Your boundaries must be specific—tell them clearly what is off-limits. Say, ‘I do not wish my arse to be spanked,’ or ‘I do not want to be taken from behind.’ If you dislike feeling pleasure without consent, make that known. But it must be clear.”
“I understand,” she whispered, heat pooling low in her belly. “I need to discover if ... I like any of those things to set boundaries without being too vague. I will lose some men, but not nearly as many.”
A wicked gleam flashed in his eyes, his lips curling into a slow, sensual smile. “Exactly.”
“Thomas?”
“Hmm?”
He tilted his head, the gleam in his gaze growing darker, more charged. He seemed to know already what she wanted to say.
“Come now,” he drawled, his voice dripping with temptation. “Do not go shy on me.”
Agatha emptied her glass of champagne in one swift motion and met his gaze. “I invite you to devastate me with pleasure.”
His lips quirked, and he stood, exuding control and sensual promise. “Accepted. I will not stop even if you scream and beg. I will only stop when I feel I have given you enough.”
A helpless surge of heat blossomed through her body. “I understand.”
His gaze never wavered from hers as he issued his command. “Remove all your clothes ... leave only the stockings. Then sit on the sofa, place your feet flat onto the cushion, open your knees and let me see your pretty pussy.”