Page 12 of Lust: The Bad Earl (Seven Deadly Sins #2)

I wondered so long how Wallace could enjoy this. I believe I now, know…

~The Duchess of A

…A s you may recall when you presented me with an invitation…I have specific requirements in the women I fuck…

Severin’s frosty reminder to the Duke of Craven echoed in Raina’s head as he guided her inside Lucifer’s Lair .

How…emotionless he’d been in speaking about something as intimate as lovemaking, and how pathetic that Raina found herself wondering about those requirements, and whether she met them.

He gripped Raina’s forearm through her silk cloak so hard, it was certain she’d wear his marks upon her skin. Now, he used her limb to steer her through the gaming hell floors.

Raina would have taken his grip as violent, but it hadn’t escaped her notice the way Severin used his body to deliberately block her from the male patrons eying her like she was a new cut of veal brought to Cook in the kitchens.

In so shielding her, he also kept Raina from seeing any of the activities which transpired on the other side of him. While the tall, enormous body of the guard who served as their personal escort prevented Raina from taking in much in front of them.

As such, with her view limited, she attempted to take in as much as she could to her left.

Alas, Raina found herself ushered so quickly in and through Lucifer’s Lair , the scenes of bare, undulating bodies as they unfolded around her, passed in a blur.

Within moments, she found herself ushered into a private, dimly lit room, ahead of Cadogan.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, and while Severin spoke to the Duke of Craven’s man who’d escorted them, Raina evaluated the room they’d been shown to.

Done in gold from the carpets to the wide, awkwardly positioned armchair to the centerpiece of the room; a gilded tester bed sans curtains and resplendent in gold sheets.

But for a center portion of the front wall with a large wood panel and the back wall which featured a variety of riding crops, whips, and other peculiar devices she could not place, the rest of the walls were made of mirrors.

At that moment, her gaze caught upon the tall, menacing figure contemplating her with inscrutable eyes. She searched for some sign or hint of warmth or affection and found absolutely none.

Wordlessly, he stalked over.

Heart thumping, Raina hastily backed out of the way. “I know you are…” Angry .

Angry would be an understatement. As rigid his control over his emotions, fury poured off his big form.

Ignoring her like she hadn’t even spoken, Severin stopped beside the armchair. Then, as effortlessly as if he lifted a newborn babe, he hauled the leather seat over his head and carried it closer toward the front of the room.

He deposited the chair in front of that peculiar panel.

Disquieted, Raina, in a bid to break the tension, trilled a laugh. “I don’t believe the Duke of Craven will appreciate you rearranging—”

He jabbed a finger at the seat. “Sit.”

“—his furniture,” she finished weakly. “I—”

“I said, sit .”

Raina wanted to snap his head off for daring to order her about, but he was an enigma who could bend God to his will if he so wished it, and so, she found herself doing as he bid.

He collected a brass knob she’d failed to notice on that front panel. Without warning, he yanked open a small door and stepped aside so that Craven’s club stood on full display.

Gasping, Raina instantly shrank.

The same tableaus she’d attempted to take in moments ago, were clear for her to observe, conversely, while she and Severin remained invisible to the other patrons all in various states of dishabille.

Unbidden, her gaze roamed the Duke of Craven’s establishment: where some men with barely clad women on their laps, alternately sipped brandy and toyed with their partner’s breasts.

The sight of one gentleman compelled her. This dark-haired lord, a stranger, feasted on the pebbled tip of a plump, masked woman. That lady twined her fingers in his black hair, and they may as well have been two performers who acted out the earlier scene between Raina and Severin in the breakfast room.

Where the things Severin did to her breasts had felt magical and special, seeing this same act performed left her feeling tawdry. It left what they’d done that day feeling dirty.

What you and Severin did? Raina’s inner voice mocked her.

She’d assigned something meaningful to something that’d been purely lust-filled, but she…didn’t want just that. Staring at all those other couples out there engaged in salacious acts, did stir a desire somewhere in her belly, but…she wanted more.

She didn’t want just a physical satiation any man could bring.

She yearned for love, and an intimacy, the physical kind to be had with a man who was her partner…just like her mother had wished, hoped, and expected it would be with her husband, Raina’s father.

At what point did women compromise in their dreams and hopes for life and settle for something less?

Raina found herself looking down at her lap.

Severin rested a hand on her shoulder and massaged Raina through the satin fabric of her cloak.

His touch, proved quixotic, somehow tender and hard, all at the same time, and her eyes slid closed as he rubbed and caressed her.

“You wanted to come here, Raina,” Severin purred like a feral cat. “You wished to see scandal and sin and maybe you even wanted to take part in what’s at play out there.”

She gasped. “No!” She’d wondered if this manner of wickedness appealed to her as it did her family. That was different…wasn’t it? Please, let it be different.

He chuckled.

“Look,” he said, the low, husky quality of his baritone surely that which had earned the secrets he’d sought from those women he’d mentioned while in the kitchen.

Look.

He was right. This was certainly the reason she’d come to the Duke of Craven’s hell. She’d sought answers about her morality and whether she possessed the same wicked streak of all the Goodheart’s.

Instead, she found herself lost to this man’s touch; thinking about the way he’d worshipped her breasts and brought her to climax, and she wanted that with him again.

“Look,” he enticed, and his voice compelled.

Raina forced her eyes open and glanced out at the debauchery before her, she shivered, not at the wicked sights but from the compelling sound of Severin’s voice.

She stilled and the haze left by Severin’s touch lifted.

Raina’s gaze locked in on an exquisite titian-haired woman, on her knees, and with her head bowed over a gentleman’s lap.

Raina glanced away. Cold, unspeakable, dismay held her in its grip.

Still, this is why she’d come. Severin had been correct, just not in the reasons he’d thought.

Raina made herself sit and observe the Duke of Craven’s club.

She watched married lords betray their wives.

She observed gentlemen who openly courted her, wagering a small fortune at gaming tables, at the same time women pleasured them.

All of it appeared mindless. Empty . All these people here were reduced to primitive beings, who mated like animals and knew no emotion other than lust.

Raina found herself unmoved. Unlike earlier that morning when Severin had perched her on the edge of the kitchen table and deftly touched her.

For the first time since she’d arrived, an ache developed between her legs.

Even as her gaze caught on a young dandy playing with a stunning brunette’s nipples, Raina’s vision grew clouded.

In her mind, Raina saw herself and Severin as they’d been.

“…Lovely. Your curls are drenched with desire….”

Her breath quickened.

“…You’re going to come all over my fingers, princess,” he whispered. “And when you do, I’m going to suck your juices from me like the sweet nectar it is…”

As she relived her petite morte in her mind, Raina’s eyes slid shut. There’d been something profound and poetic and so very extraordinary that a single man had brought her to such heights. Her longing for him then—and now—proved so great that it wasn’t merely the act her mother had written about, but a single man who’d made her feel those things.

She didn’t want to have a string of lovers. She didn’t want a husband who didn’t mind sharing her with another man. She wanted to love so fiercely and be so fiercely loved in return that they two were enough.

This was too much.

Raina surged to her feet and took several jerky steps away from Severin, retreating to the other side of the bedroom.

What it was not, however, was enough space.