“Liam. We need to make a few things clear. First”—he gripped Liam’s hair in one hand, cupping his chin in the other—“you want Lady Jessamy. Yes?”
Liam swallowed, his eyes molten pools. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Liam swallowed harder. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Gabriel stroked his hand down the back of Liam’s neck. “Good. You’re learning.” He began a slow massage of the muscles in Liam’s neck, noting for the first time that the man was at the perfect height for him to thrust his cock forward into Liam’s mouth. Soon, he promised his dick, hard once more at the thought.
“Second, you want me. Yes?”
Liam stared up at him, and Gabriel watched the war within him make its way across his rugged features. Finally, Liam sagged and would have dropped his head if Gabriel had let him.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Excellent. Then you and I are of the same mind.” Gabriel watched as Liam’s eyes returned to his, the expression in them incredulous. Gabriel smiled a decadent, lopsided grin. “What’s the matter, sub? You haven’t heard the stories about me? How I hold orgies for the members of my club? How I fuck my way through men and women alike, spanking and figging as I go? There might be more to those particular stories than just speculation, but my personal favorite is that I bring disgrace to the title of duke, and I’m the most debauched, perverse man in England. What a delicious rumor.” Gabriel laughed as Liam flushed, knowing he’d heard the stories.
Gabriel moved behind Liam, kneeling down behind him. Even kneeling he had at least three inches on Liam, and he filed the information away for future use. He leaned down until his lips brushed Liam’s ear. “I think, sub, you’ve earned a reward for telling your Dom what you need. Especially because what you need is me.”
Liam all but melted back, his clean, masculine scent filling Gabriel’s nostrils.
Gabriel laughed softly. “Take out your cock, sub.”
Liam hesitated and Gabriel waited, conscious that this could all go to hell in a matter of moments. Slowly, Liam undid his jeans, and Gabriel’s eyes flared at the sight of the long, thick cock that Liam pulled from its confinement. Liam’s cock was beyond hard, a drop of pearly fluid glistening on the plum-sized head.
Gabriel had a strong sense of déjà vu. He was reminded inexplicably of the drop of water on Lady Jessamy’s nipple, and he smiled a feral smile as he decided on exactly what to do to his new sub. “Stroke yourself. Your Dom wants to watch you come.”
A fine shudder ran through Liam at Gabriel’s words, and he fisted his cock, stroking up and down in slow passes. “Might I rest my head on your shoulder, Your Grace?”
The words were honeyed, and Gabriel was powerless to resist such a sweet display of trust. “Yes, sub.”
Liam sighed, and his golden head came back to rest against Gabriel’s shoulder. Gabriel still watched over the other shoulder as Liam’s hand stroked and squeezed his glorious dick.
“Let me give you something to think about while you squeeze that cock.” Gabriel leaned close, breathing the dirty words directly into Liam’s ear. “Let me tell you what our sweet little Lady Jessamy was doing this afternoon at the pond. And let me tell you what I was doing as I watched.”
Liam’s eyes flew open as Gabriel’s words registered, and he groaned long and low as Gabriel began to describe the filthy things his angel had done to herself, and how Gabriel had beat off to the show she’d put on. Liam’s stroking sped up, his hand pumping along his shaft as he envisioned how she had looked, how Gabriel had looked.
* * * *
So close to release as Gabriel described the final throes of passion, Liam felt the first warning tingles at the base of his spine at the same time as he felt a hand, Gabriel’s hand, reach around and give his balls a firm squeeze, rolling them up and together as his own hand worked furiously up and down the stalk.
Liam stiffened as he came, grunting as the cum spewed out of his cock. Gabriel gave his balls one last soft stroke before his hand retracted, and Liam took a moment before lifting his head off of Gabriel’s shoulder.
Gabriel stood up and walked to stand before Liam, the look in his eyes languorous and full of lust as he helped Liam to his feet. “That was beautiful, sub.”
Liam flushed and lowered his eyes. No one had ever done anything, said anything like that to him before, and in that instant he knew he was a goner. “Thank you, Your Grace.” He peeked up at Gabriel through his lashes. “Is there anything Your Grace would like?”
Gabriel chuckled at the hopeful tone. “Not now, Liam. At the moment we need to go inside to eat your delicious supper, and we need to concoct a plan to bring a certain minx to her knees.”
Liam’s lips curved upward. “Now that,” he almost purred, “sounds like an excellent idea.”
Chapter 7
Jessie smoothed the skirt of her gown for what seemed like the zillionth time, checking her reflection in the mirror. She turned this way and that, loving the way the smooth silk felt against her skin. She opened her clutch and made sure she’d put her lipstick inside, along with her cell and a condom. She made a face at the mirror. She thought she might be a little too optimistic, but one never knew what one was getting into when attending these parties. She snapped the clutch shut, reaching for her wrap and clicking her way out of the room on her Jimmy Choos. She was smug about the shoes. When you were as short as she was, you could get away with a really killer pair of heels.
As an afterthought, she grabbed the invitation to tonight’s affair from the table by her bedroom door, not sure if she’d need to bring it with her for any reason.
Jessie was dressed up to attend a party being held at a neighboring estate, hosted by a minor nobleman and his wife. They tended to have fun get-togethers, and Jessie was particularly interested in attending this evening’s event since they were kicking off the party with an auction. She wasn’t sure what sorts of items would be for sale, but no doubt it would be amusing to watch who bought what and for how much.
Tucking the invitation into her clutch, Jessie made her way down the staircase to the door, shaking out her wrap so she could toss it around her shoulders. Before she could do so, however, she felt a warm hand on her arm.
“You look beautiful, Jessie.” Liam’s voice was as warm as his touch, and he eyed her from head to toe with frank appreciation.
“Thank you, Liam.” Jessie wasn’t quite used to the change in his address. He’d been calling her “Lady Jessamy” for so long and it made her heart flutter to hear him use the shortened form of her name. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but he’d been calling her “Jessie” since the last time Gabriel had been round for supper, almost two weeks ago.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me this evening? I could really use the company,” Jessie wheedled, thinking of the lonely condom in her clutch.
Liam laughed softly and stroked her cheek with a single calloused fingertip. “I don’t think the gentry are quite ready for that, dearie.”
Jessie laughed, twirling away from him. “Fine, then. But don’t say I didn’t ask. Are you about ready to go?”
Liam nodded then took her elbow, guiding her outside to the already running car. He made as if to open the back door, but Jessie had anticipated him and was not about to give an inch on this point.
“Liam, honestly. You don’t have to attend tonight’s party, but I’ll be damned if I’m riding in the back and treating you like a chauffeur.” She crossed her arms, trying her best to look commanding. “I’ll ride up front with you like a normal person, thank you very much.”
Liam shrugged, grinning at her and shutting the car door before opening the front passenger side for her. “You’ll never be normal, love.” With that, he kissed her hair and took her hand, gently pressing her into the seat. He walked around the car and seated himself, turning to smile once more at Jessie, and then they were off.
* * * *
Jessie’s eyes sparkled with excitement, the di
n in the room growing louder as the guests gossiped about the last lot, sold to a dowager duchess wearing a hideous green dress. The auction was even better than she’d expected it would be, and Jessie eagerly awaited the announcement that would herald the bidding on the next item. She’d watched, thunderstruck, as men and women bid outrageous amounts on totally gaudy, useless items, and her favorite moment had been when two men had become so agitated that they’d screamed their bids, their faces red and their eyes bulging. When one of them had finally conceded defeat to the other, the winner had been standing smugly by his newest purchase when the loser walked straight up, tore the man’s wig right off his head, and threw it into a bowl of punch. Chaos had ensued with ladies shrieking and men laughing, and the two men had finally been escorted out and packed off into their vehicles.
Jessie perked up when the auctioneer walked back to the platform erected for his use, holding the card with a description of the next item up for bid.
“Our next lot is an heirloom piece, an antique pianoforte once owned by the Lady Catherine Cumberland, late wife of the Marquess ...”
The roaring in Jessie’s ears prevented her from hearing the rest of what the auctioneer said. She looked on in horror as the pianoforte she’d played as a child was wheeled across the front of the room to stand before the auctioneer’s platform. Jessie could remember the exact moment she’d last seen the instrument, and it wasn’t a pleasant memory. She’d had to sell it in order to pay one of her brother’s money lenders, and she’d wept as a group of men had come to take the beautiful piece away. Jessie had felt as if her childhood was being packed off into their truck along with the pianoforte, and she’d always wondered what had become of it—the instrument and her childhood.
She could feel her face redden as the gasps around her registered, and the guests close to her seemed to take a collective step back so as to allow everyone a good view of whatever she’d do next. Jessie could hear whispers from every corner of the room, and an elderly woman patted her arm comfortingly.
With nothing to do but brazen it out, Jessie plastered a smile on her face and kept her eyes glued to the auctioneer, hoping that the bidding would be over quickly. It seemed that the pianoforte was a much-desired item, and Jessie could hear voices calling their bids as the auctioneer pointed to one person and then another.
“Two thousand pounds!”
“Five thousand!”
“Ten!”
Jessie couldn’t believe her ears, and she mentally cursed her brother. That money lender had made a pretty profit. The woman who had bid ten thousand pounds waited hopefully, holding her breath as she looked around the room for other bidders. The auctioneer paused, also looking around the room. He was just about to bang his gavel when a strong voice sounded from the doorway to the ballroom.
“Twenty thousand pounds.”
Gasps could be heard throughout the room, and the woman who’d bid last was staring at the source of the latest bid, her mouth hanging open. The auctioneer hesitated, looking at the woman to see if she’d counter. The woman shook her head slightly and the auctioneer pounded his gavel. The lot was sold, for twenty thousand pounds.
Jessie craned her neck to see who had made that last outrageous bid, frustrated that she wasn’t taller. She realized in the next instant, though, that she needn’t have bothered. A path opened through the crowd, and Jessie watched, dumbfounded, as Gabriel Hartley walked toward her. Of course he’d been invited tonight.
Gabriel bought my pianoforte.
Jessie was stuck on that thought, coming back to herself only when Gabriel was standing directly in front of her.
“I hope you don’t mind.” His voice was quiet. “Such a beautiful piece deserves a good home.”
Jessie’s eyes welled up. He was right. And worse, she knew it wouldn’t find such a home with her anymore. She’d hardly be able to afford to have it tuned. Although she was heartbroken that the beloved instrument would be so close and yet so very, very far away, she smiled tremulously at Gabriel. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome to play it whenever you like.”
Jessie’s smile fell, thinking of how much it would hurt to play the pianoforte only to have to leave it behind again. Her response was barely above a whisper. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t remember how.”
“Your Grace!” A tall woman with massive breasts and a low-cut gown stepped deliberately between Jessie and Gabriel, thrusting her breasts out and taking a step back, almost trampling Jessie.
Taking her cue to leave and not really caring that she was abandoning Gabriel to the plastic woman accosting him, Jessie moved to another part of the room, for once grateful that her petite frame would be difficult for Gabriel to locate in the crowd. The crowd had clearly become bored with the lack of fireworks, and attention had shifted once more to the auctioneer.
Jessie watched as the auctioneer prepared to announce the next object for bid, and she felt a certain recklessness come over her. What the hell, she’d bid on something tonight.
“Our next lot is shrouded in mystery. It is the jewelry case belonging to the late Countess Creely, whose diamonds, you may recall, have been missing since the time of her death. Her son, the current earl, has gone on record with the statement that anyone who locates and returns his mother’s diamonds will receive a reward equal to half the diamonds’ worth.
“The case itself is a curiosity. It was brought from China during the Victorian era. Bidding for this item will begin at two hundred pounds.”
Jessie raised her hand. “Two hundred.”
The auctioneer acknowledged her bid, looking around the room for other bidders. Jessie looked, too, surprised when she didn’t hear anyone else’s voice.
“Sold, for two hundred pounds.” The auctioneer gestured to her again and Jessie felt a rush of pleasure and no small astonishment that she’d won.
Her composure regained, Jessie walked, smiling, to the ballroom. She thought she’d toast her new acquisition with a glass of punch, and she’d just begun making her way to the punch bowls lined up on a long table when she stopped dead in her tracks. Not believing her eyes, she watched as a classically handsome man escorted a tall, lithe, blonde woman to the drink-laden table, handing her a glass of champagne before taking one for himself. Of all the people she didn’t want to see, Jessie couldn’t imagine anyone else taking that cake. She probably should have guessed they’d be here, too, and she had a moment where she really debated calling Liam to come get her early.
No. I will not let them ruin my evening.
Jessie drew a deep breath, set her shoulders, and started forward to greet the man who had jilted her...and his wife.
Chapter 8
Jessie walked deliberately to the punch bowl, pouring herself a glass before turning back to the blond couple who were chatting quietly, not having noticed her yet. Jessie took a deep breath and glued a small smile to her face, but her greeting died on her lips as she heard the whispers around her, observed the women talking behind their hands as they watched her with rapt attention. She looked more carefully at the crowd and spotted Dame Violet, the woman hosting the party. Violet’s eyes darted back and forth between Jessie and the other couple, and her mouth moved a mile a minute as she narrated what was happening to the woman standing beside her. There was no compassion in her gaze—to Jessie, she looked positively gleeful—and a small, victorious smile played on her lips.
In that moment, Jessie knew how badly she’d been set up that evening—set up to be the entertainment. She was sure now that Violet had arranged things deliberately so that Jessie would be present when the pianoforte was auctioned off, and she was even more certain that she’d been included on the list of invitees because the crowd hoped for a delicious morsel of gossip at her expense. This was likely Violet’s second plan of attack since Jessie’s reaction to the sale of the pianoforte had been lackluster, and Jessie wondered how many ways Violet had devised to torture her.
She smiled grimly to herself. She wasn’t
about to turn tail and run. It would be exactly what Violet and the gossips were looking for. Unfortunately, the alternative meant that Jessie would have to brazen out the whole evening, acting like nothing bothered her and pretending to have a wonderful time. She mentally thanked Gabriel for rescuing her from what could have been an awful scene with the pianoforte, and she reminded herself that she had a new jewel case for her meager collection of baubles. Meager, she reminded herself, but still sparkly.
With a sure step and firm voice, Jessie made her move.
“Good evening, Edward. How do you do, Philippa.”
Edward Poole turned around, his aristocratic features becoming pinched as he saw who had greeted him. “Why hello, Lady Jessamy.”
Philippa murmured something by way of greeting, staring at Jessie with a vapid smile.
“It seems,” Jessie said, smiling with a friendliness she didn’t feel, “that we’ve been created as this evening’s entertainment. Shall we put a wrench into Dame Violet’s plans?”
Edward’s face flushed a dull red, and Jessie knew she’d played it perfectly. There was nothing Edward hated more than negative attention.
“I’d say that sounds like the best option.”
Forging forward, Jessie prepared to spend ten minutes she’d never get back. “So how have you been? Well, I hope?” She glanced back and forth between Edward and Philippa, hoping her face didn’t betray her discomfort.
“Tolerably well, thank you.” Edward’s embarrassment had given way to his usual haughtiness, and his mouth had settled into its usual sneer. “And you?” He yawned slightly, showing Jessie that he really didn’t give a damn how she was.
Jessie wondered what she’d ever found attractive about this man. She supposed when she studied him that he really was handsome, although in a prissy, fastidious way, and she remembered when his sneer had seemed more like a smirk that was permanently in place for him to display his witty sense of humor.
Jessie's Jewels [Submissive Sirens 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 4