Page 6 of Tantalizing the Duke
“There is always someone who will marry even the most notorious ladies. Some of our patrons spring to mind.” Nomansland spoke lightly, but his eyes were keenly on Dainsfield, watching his response.
“I suppose a woman of Miss Nichols’s social caliber makes a perfect bride, if one’s objective is to court scandal.”
Nomansland gave a short laugh.
The silence hung between them for a beat too long before Dainsfield broke it. “There are a few who come to mind.”
If he was honest with himself, he’d admit that none of the members of Sutcliffe’s was the ideal husband for he live Milly deserved. If these men valued family, they wouldn’t be sitting in a gentleman’s club gambling night after night. He wasn’t even considering the ones who preferred the upper floor activities.
Perhaps that was the problem. Milly herself said she wanted to continue her wanton ways after she married. Perhaps she needed a husband who enjoyed ordering his wife to perform for him in lascivious ways. If that was the case, he had just the man in mind.
CHAPTER THREE
Later that evening, Dainsfield examined the schedule for the private chambers. Among the names was the Earl of Parham. Parham was the ideal prospect for Milly. He was more handsome than half of the young bucks parading about Rotton Row during the fashionable hour. His income was said to be good, and he rarely gambled at Sutcliffe’s. Instead, he made frequent use of one of the rooms outfitted with floggers, blindfolds, and silken ropes.
While Dainsfield had never known Milly to take part in that type of play, he thought she would enjoy it even more than the fondling and pawing most men offered. They wouldn’t need to attend the club to do so, and Milly might find herself more easily sated.
His cock stirred at the image of a sated Milly sprawled on his bed, her breasts pink from mild abuse, her bottom lined with the tracks from a flogger. Too bad there wasn’t time to introduce her to a bit of rough play before she married.
He looked at his watch. Parham should be upstairs now. He should tell a footman to send the man to his office before he left for the night.
The upper floor of Sutcliffe’s functioned as a kind of bawdy sanctuary, a place where the whispered judgments of the ton fell silent beneath the seductive groans of lust and power. The room Parham was using was outfitted well by Sutcliffe’s standards, meant for more than one taste. Iron hooks on the wall and ceiling waited to be tied to. Sturdy leather straps hinted at all the mischief expected within. It also had a spying window, as did many of the rooms, where patrons could watch what went on in the room. Dainsfield paused in front of it.
Parham had a naked woman bent over the arm of a settee, her backside striped red from the strap he held. Dainsfield let out a slow breath. The scene wasn’t unfamiliar—he had watched other women in this position more than once—but this time it was impossible not to see Milly’s face, framed with shock or disgust, if she watched. Perhaps she wouldn’t even care. Perhaps, if anything, she’d be relieved to have a husband who didn’t expect her fidelity. Dainsfield felt something prick inside him at that thought. But what right did he have to be jealous? She had made it very clear the other night—any man would do.
“Might you be inclined to move over, Your Grace?” came a voice as light as birdsong. Before he could even respond, she squeezed in between him and the window.
He could scarcely believe it. “Milly,” he said, his words as incredulous as the look he gave her.
She offered him a grin that mingled impishness and pure delight. “I only have a few weeks left to play. I had to come.”
Eyes glittering, she turned back to the window. Inside, Parham pulled the woman upright by her hair, making her arch her back as he twisted the fingers of his other hand into her pussy, which faced them. Milly let out a sharp breath and Dainsfield caught himself staring. At her, not the couple inside.
Dainsfield parted his lips to suggest they leave if the scene was too disturbing for her, but then he saw she was toying with one of her nipples. She licked her lips, and he had to look away before he kissed her.
“Might you enjoy such treatment from a husband?” he asked.
She didn’t even glance his way. “I would have to trust him immensely.”
“What about Parham? I haven’t?—”
Her soft moan cut him off, and she leaned back, her body pressed against the length of him.
He shifted his weight so she wouldn’t feel his growing cock. Inside the room, Parham’s fingers were busy as it looked like he was spreading her dampness over her bottom. She rocked into his hand, her private areas damp and fully exposed to anyone who might look through the window. And Milly and Dainsfield continued to look.
“Milly, I had no idea,” he said, caught between amusement and astonishment.
She didn’t answer, but began to rub her breast again. Dainsfield watched, helpless, as she moved in rhythm with the woman in the room.
Parham’s praises reached them in indistinct murmurs. “Good girl. That’s it. Almost there.”
Dainsfield felt a throb that seemed to start in his chest and settle lower. Inside, the woman shuddered in climax. She hadn’t even finished panting when Parham unfastened his trousers.
“Suck me,” he commanded, pushing her to her knees. She took his cock in her mouth, and he held her head, urging her to move faster.
There in the hallway, Milly’s moans were as urgent as the woman’s. Her eyes were half closed, her body so loose and shamelessly pressed against Dainsfield that it was all he could do to keep from groaning.
How was this affecting him so? At Sutcliffe’s, he was always immune, his role as owner a kind of armor against the pleasures that ensnared lesser men. Yet his cock was a solid, aching presence against Milly’s back, his arousal making him almost angry in its suddenness. Her touch only magnified it. When she moved, grinding her bottom over him, he couldn’t hold back the deep, guttural noise that escaped his throat.