Darius gave a groan as that rasping heat laved over and around the sensitive tip before she lapped up the second bead of pre-cum that had appeared in response to that caress. “Take me in your mouth, Bea, please,” he encouraged gruffly. “Deeper,” he encouraged as the heat of her mouth opened to engulf the whole of the bulbous top. “To the back of your throat. Yes, just like that.” Darius’s neck arched as the pleasure of her hot mouth shot straight to his balls. “Suck so that your cheeks hollow out. Yes, just like that.” The walls of her mouth encased and drew on him as he thrust to the back of her throat and then slowly withdrew, before thrusting in again.
Bea had never done anything so scandalous in her life before.
Had never wanted to.
Sucking Darius was delicious.
He tasted delicious, sweet and salty at the same time. He smelled delicious too, that heady musk stronger with her nose pressed against the hard muscles of his lower abdomen.
His groans of pleasure spurred her on to give him yet more of it, and she pushed his hands aside to replace them with her own, stroking and pumping the inches of his cock she could not get inside her mouth. For all that Darius had instructed her to do this, Bea knew it was she who now held the power whether to give him pleasure or not. The feeling was exhilarating.
It was also extremely arousing to watch as Darius’s hands first cupped and squeeze her bared breasts before he rolled the red and engorged nipples between finger and thumb. Pleasure pulsed through Bea, and she could feel how wet her drawers were becoming with the gush of juices between her thighs. The swollen nubbin pulsed with the need to be stroked as it had been last night.
Was it possible to attain the same explosive release of last night merely from sucking Darius’s cock and having her nipples pulled and squeezed, all while daring the risk of being caught by one of her servants or guests?
As the pressure increased between Bea’s thighs, the nubbin pulsing with the same wild rhythm as her heart, she knew herself to be on the very edge of a climax even more earth-shattering than the previous night.
She was determined not be alone in that release, intended for Darius to join her.
Bea increased her efforts, drawing Darius’s cock deeper, sucking harder, instinctively knowing by the growing hardness of his shaft that Darius was nearing the same release she was.
“Do you want me to withdraw, or can you take it?”
If it was anything like she had witnessed this morning, then Bea wanted to be the recipient of all that thick and delicious release Darius had pumped over the window of his bedchamber.
Her answer was to lift higher onto her knees, taking him deeper, her fingers stroking him harder, faster. Darius threaded his fingers into her hair to hold her head in place as he gave several deep thrusts to the back of her throat.
He groaned. “I am coming now.”
The words had barely left his lips before Bea tasted the first hot spurt of his release, quickly followed by a flood of that delicious nectar pumping down her throat. That, and Darius’s almost painful squeezing of her nipples, triggered her own shuddering climax.
Bea had no idea how long the euphoria lasted, nor did she care. This, the wild pleasure, was too delicious for her to want it to ever end.
“You came too,” Darius stated gruffly.
Bea lifted her head and reluctantly relinquished his only marginally softened cock. “I did,” she confirmed almost shyly. “You were perfectly correct. It is very exciting to risk discovery and exposure.”
So much so, Bea found herself very much looking forward to dinner this evening, at which time Darius had said he intended to touch and caress between her thighs and bring about her climax, all while her other guests ate their dinner in complete ignorance.
Chapter 5
“There is something…” Quinlan gave a shake of his head as he helped Darius on with his black dinner jacket. “I cannot quite put my finger on it, but there is something odd about the residents of Hanwell House.”
“Odd?” Darius echoed sharply. “Stop your fussing”—he slapped the valet’s hands away from flicking imaginary lint off the front of the jacket—“and explain yourself, man.”
“I have just said I cannot explain it,” Quinlan reasoned. “All I know is that the household staff are excessively protective of their mistress.”
“Explain your use of the word excessive.”
“It is almost as if there is…a conspiracy of silence regarding Lady Hanwell’s private life. And yet I have also heard, repeatedly, from the lowliest maid to the butler, what a wonderful mistress she is.”
“Perhaps that is because she is?” This was the last conversation Darius wanted to have when he had been anticipating touching Bea again since their encounter in the garden several hours ago. He had come twice today already, but he could feel the thrum of his third hovering beneath his outward appearance of calm respectability.
Insisting on having Bea’s mouth on him earlier had been deliciously sinful. As he had suspected, there was a fire beneath Bea’s outer primness. A fire which had caused her to climax by the stimulation of her nipples alone, something he had never known with any other woman but her.
A discovered fire Darius had no intention of allowing bloody Dickie Havers to bask in.
The other man had other ideas, apparently, Landbourne not having left Bea’s side for the whole of the picnic. Something which Bea had allowed, and Darius needed to punish her for.
He felt a totally different curl of anticipation inside him, thinking what form that punishment might take.
Quinlan continued to frown. “All the servants have been here for at least five years, so perhaps you are correct.”
“But you do not think so?”
“Being a mere servant myself—” The valet raised his brows as Darius gave a derisive snort. “Speaking from my own experience,” he continued firmly. “There is always one servant in every household with something to complain about.”
“Including my own?”
“Of course.”
“Who— Never mind.” Darius gave an impatient shake of his head. As long as it was not Quinlan, any of the other of his servants could easily be replaced. “There is no servant like that here?”
“No.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have no idea.” The valet frowned his frustration with the enigma.
“Could they all be in on Lady Hanwell’s treasonous behavior?” It would not be the first time a whole nest of Napoleon sympathizers had been found living in the same household.
Quinlan considered the matter before speaking again. “One of the footmen and several young men from the village of Hanwell fought at Waterloo. They have all returned unharmed.”
“Because they were protected by someone?”
“It is a possibility,” the valet allowed. “But if that is the case they would hardly confide the fact to me.”
And Bea had refused to allow Darius to question her.
Whatever Bea had expected of Darius this evening, after he had joined her and the other guests for a drink before dinner, it was certainly not to have him completely ignore her and instead take part in a low-voiced conversation with a blushing Margo Monroe. Margo’s husband, Jamie, a tall, red-haired Scot, did not look at all pleased by the other man having singled his wife out for conversation.
Could it be Bea was also jealous of the attention Darius was showing another woman?
It was very naïve of her, if that was the case. Darius had offered her a week of indulging in delicious and forbidden delights, nothing more. She had accepted his offer under that and her own condition. To expect a man like Wolferton to fawn over her like some besotted puppy was ridiculous in the extreme. He did not love her any more than she loved him. Nor was he a gentleman who ever fawned over anyone.
Unlike Dickie Havers, who had not left her side during the picnic this afternoon, and was standing beside her now as if he were the host and so had every right to be beside her.
“—what do you think, my dear Lady Beatrix?”
Bea forced herself to look away from a giggling Margo—yes, her usually sensible friend was actually giggling at something Darius had said to her—and instead turned her attention to Landbourne. “I am sorry?” She gave him a polite smile of encouragement.
“I was suggesting that perhaps Wolferton’s presence here has something to do with his…friendship with Lady Monroe.”
Bea frowned her displeasure. “Lady Monroe is a close friend of mine, and is entirely faithful to her husband.”
“I meant no offense,” Landbourne hastened to assure. “It is merely…unusual to see Wolferton at a country affair such as this one.”
And it had not even occurred to the earl, Bea realized irritably, to suspect Darius’s interest was in her and not Margo Monroe.
All of Bea’s insecurities and her previous suspicion regarding Wolferton’s uninvited presence here reared their ugly heads and caused a flush of anger to warm her cheeks.
She had allowed Wolferton and her newly discovered sexual curiosity to dictate her behavior this past night and day. Had allowed him to dictate her actions. She was filled with mortification now at how wantonly she had obeyed his instruction in the garden earlier, and how doing so had caused her own pleasurable climax. Anyone could have seen or approached them, and she doubted either of them would have been any the wiser until it was too late.
Bea linked her arm through Landbourne’s as Kilby nodded from the doorway. “No offense was taken,” she assured the earl. “It is time to go into dinner now, and I believe we have discussed Wolferton enough for one evening.”
The earl looked pleased by her sudden warmth. “I could not agree more. Arrogant bastard at the best of times.”
“Who can the two of you possibly be referring to, I wonder.”
Bea gave a pained wince as she turned to face the “arrogant bastard” in person, knowing by Landbourne’s guilty expression he felt as discomforted as she did at having Wolferton look down the length of his arrogant nose at both of them. Bea felt her own share of guilt for having encouraged Landbourne into thinking she welcomed not only his attentions but also his opinion of the duke. An opinion Wolferton had obviously overheard.
She might be angry with Darius, as well as herself, for allowing him to tempt her into behaving outside the bounds of respectability she had long ago set for her widowhood, but that did not mean she should involve someone else in those feelings of resentment.
Her chin rose. “No one you are acquainted with, I am sure,” she dismissed.
Mocking humor gleamed in those pale gray eyes before it was replaced with a sensual warmth that was becoming far too familiar to Bea and was a promise of giving her the pleasure he had talked of earlier today. “I believe it is time to go into dinner.” He held out his arm.
“As you can see, the earl has already offered to escort me,” Bea pointed out lightly. “We are to be very informal this evening, Your Grace, and I am sure one of the other ladies would welcome your escort and to sit beside you at dinner.”
The warmth left the duke’s eyes, and they narrowed to steely slits. “I have some things I wish to discuss with you during the meal.”
“I am sure they can wait until later.”
“No, they cannot.”
“I say, Wolferton, you are coming on a bit strong, you know,” the earl pointed out jovially, no doubt so as not to cause offense.
The duke looked at him coldly. “I will thank you to step aside, Landbourne.”
“No,” Bea spoke firmly.
“Yes,” Darius returned as implacably.
Bea continued to meet his challenging gaze for several long seconds, but in the end, she knew she would have no choice but to acquiesce. Not unless she wanted to cause a scene right here in front of all her guests. Because the ice in Darius’s gaze said he would not back down.
“Forgive me, my lord.” She removed her hand from the crook of Landbourne’s arm. “I had forgotten the duke’s urgent need to speak with me tonight.”
“But—”
“I promise we will sit together at breakfast tomorrow morning,” Bea assured the disappointed earl before Wolferton whisked her away toward the dining room.
“Rather a rash promise for you to have made when I have no intention of allowing it.”
Bea gave Wolferton a sharp sideways glance, but there was nothing in the sternness of his expression to confirm he had actually made the remark at all as he waved Kilby away. He moved forward himself to once again pull back the dining chair for Bea to sit down before taking a seat to her left. No warmth. No flirtation. Just that cold gaze daring her to challenge him.
Telling her Darius was spoiling for an argument.
“You seem…somewhat out of sorts this evening, Your Grace.” She spoke pleasantly, aware of the other people dining with them, even if he was not.
“Not at all, I enjoy nothing more than watching my current lover not only accepting but encouraging the attentions of another man.”
Bea drew in a gasping breath. “Lower your voice, if you please,” she hissed, a fire burning in her cheeks.
He picked up his glass and took a sip of the wine Kilby had just poured for them. “Do you intend to let him fuck you later too?”
“Darius, please stop this…”
Yes, Darius inwardly rebuked himself, he should stop this. Now, before the conversation was completely out of hand. And maybe he would have listened to that little voice if he was not feeling so angry. First, by having to watch Bea as she chatted amiably with Landbourne for most of the afternoon and then seeing the two of them together again this evening. Especially when Bea looked ravishing in a green silk gown which suited her pale coloring and golden hair perfectly.
“If anyone is fucking you later tonight, it will be me,” Darius assured her in a hard voice.
“No one is fu—going to be with me later tonight.” He could see her hands were shaking slightly as she picked up her soup spoon to at least give the impression of eating. “Last night, and this afternoon, were a mistake. I—I admit to being flattered by the attention you gave me, but my sense of decorum has returned to me now, and I realize I should not have behaved in such a way as to encourage you to believe I wanted to continue the relationship.”
He studied her through narrowed lids, noting the shadows in those deep brown eyes, the pallor of her cheeks, and the slight tremble to her lips. Because he was being so bloody minded and allowing his feelings of displeasure at watching her in Landbourne’s company today to deliberately hurt her.
Darius had never been jealous in his life.
Not even when any of his previous lovers had deliberately tried to make him so as a way of deepening his interest. Those previous relationships had ended the moment any woman tried to manipulate him in that way.
He did not believe Bea’s behavior to have been deliberate, but rather lacking in forethought. Nor did he intend to let her end their relationship until he was ready to do so. His reason for being here aside, he had not had nearly enough of Bea Hanwell.
“I apologize,” he said stiffly. “Even as a child, I did not like to share my toys.”
“I am not a toy.” Bea looked outraged by the suggestion, the emotion bringing a little color back into her cheeks and an angry sparkle to her eyes. “You cannot— What are you doing?” she demanded as Darius placed his hand upon her thigh.
“I am sure I told you earlier that I wished to play with your pussy tonight.”
She glanced about them nervously. “You must stop making such remarks!”
“Perhaps if I had your nipple in my mouth, it would be too occupied to speak. As it is…”
“Darius, please.”
His anger drained out of him as he saw Bea truly was becoming distressed. It was one thing to play with her sensibilities, but something else altogether to cause her deliberate hurt or embarrassment. He used his free hand to lift the gloved hand closest to him and raise it to his lip
s before releasing her. “I will cease tormenting you if you will agree not to encourage Landbourne’s attentions again.”
“What of your own behavior— Very well,” she agreed hastily as Darius’s other hand moved higher along the length of her thigh.
His fingers tightened on that silky flesh. “My own behavior…?”
Her gaze avoided meeting his. “Margo Monroe is a particular friend of mine.”
“Lady Monroe? But— Ah.” Darius grimaced as he now realized the reason for some of Bea’s change in manner toward him. “I am aware the two of you are friends. It was the reason I enjoyed talking with her.”
“I do not understand…”
“I was hoping she might give me some insight into the woman I intend bedding later tonight. I am referring to you, before you imagine I am about to embark on an affair with Lady Harold.”
Bea glanced down the table at the plump, middle-aged Lady Harold. “She is a darling lady.”
“I am sure she is,” Darius drawled. “But my interest happens to lie with a certain blonde-haired, brown-eyed lady who, it would seem, has the power to anger me as much as she arouses me.”
Her gaze lowered. “I do not anger you deliberately.”
“I am glad to hear it.” He gave an inclination of his head.
“You are?” She moistened her lips nervously.
The same tongue that had been on Darius’s cock this afternoon.
He nodded. “Your friend Margo told me nothing about you I did not already know, by the way. She truly is a loyal friend to you.” Maddeningly so, as far as Darius was concerned. Margo Monroe had done nothing but compliment Bea’s kind and warm nature for the whole of their conversation.
Yet someone else who was “excessively protective” of Bea Hanwell.
It was the reason why so many people felt the need to be excessively protective of her that intrigued Darius. “Did you love your husband?”
Wicked Torment (Regency Sinners 1) Page 6