Page 3 of Tantalizing the Duke (Wayward Dukes Alliance #22)
CHAPTER THREE
L ater 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.
And Milly wasn’t finished.
He felt her hand guiding his to her breast. She looked up, her expression open, her desire real and unrelenting.
“I can’t do that here,” he said, his voice strained with wanting her to do exactly that.
She continued to grind into him as she turned to face him. “Then, where?”
Her words sliced through the sexual fog like a sword through butter. Her sincerity stunned him, her tenacity awed him, her utter lack of decorum thrilled him beyond reason. Yet somehow he regained just enough composure to tease her. “I’m flattered you want my company. But as you know, I don’t take part in what goes on in these rooms. I could find you someone. A young man, waiting for a woman who?—”
“No.”
The refusal was simple and immediate. She left no room for misunderstanding.
“Milly,” he tried again, ignoring the slow burn of pleasure and embarrassment spreading through him as she slipped two fingers between the buttons of his waistcoat and ran them over his chest, “you only want me because I’m the man standing in front of you.”
She gave him a smile that made him want to throw every careful word to the wind. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since I knew what wanting was. Women talk, and I’ve heard more than you think. I’ve heard what a lover you are. Soon I’ll have to obey my husband’s wishes, and I suspect that will mean I’ll have to limit my activities to include only him.”
He could hardly think, her confession tangled him so thoroughly.
She pulled him closer. “I don’t want to miss out on the chance to feel what your fingers can do inside me. Or the way your cock will feel inside me. Inside any of my openings.”
She fully intended to tease him to death, he was sure of it.
And then he realized, she wasn’t teasing.
“Three nights,” he said, the words almost a gasp, “three nights from now.”
The joy on her face left him astounded. “I intend to explore all the ways you can satisfy me, Dainsfield.” Her tone was so fiercely sincere it made him dizzy.
He had never wanted anything so much as to leave Sutcliffe’s with her.
When he laughed, it came out like a mixture of amazement and surrender. “I’m usually the one saying that. Wednesday evening, I’ll send my carriage for you.”
Milly smiled coquettishly, as if he’d offered her the world.
He suddenly felt the need to test her, to see how true was her proclamation that only he would satisfy her. “May I have a hack take you home?”
She nodded, utterly content with the scheme. “That would be lovely.”
He escorted her downstairs to the entrance, every step a slow-motion struggle against his impulse to drag her into the nearest room. With a practiced composure, he called for a footman and had the hackney summoned. As he watched it pull away, a smile like he hadn’t worn in years settled onto his face.
He turned back to Sutcliffe’s and wondered if any man had ever been happier to say the word “Wednesday.”