Pleasuring the Lady (The Pleasure Wars)

by Jess Michaels

  He nodded, the motion very slow. “Something like that. I will ensure that Bridget knows how you should be dressed. Meet me in the foyer in two hours.”

  Her lips parted. “Can you not simply tell me what to expect and how to dress or behave?”

  He seemed to consider that a moment, then backed away. “Ten o’clock in the foyer, Portia. I will expect you.”

  Without another word, he turned on his heel and left her standing in the middle of the dining room, staring after him, speechless, her stomach in a knot somewhere in the vicinity of her pounding heart.

  She drew a few deep breaths and then exited the room to join her mother in the parlor. She forced a smile on her face as she opened the door and found her mother perusing a small selection of desserts that had been placed on the sidebar for them.

  “Half a year in this house and I shall gain two stone!”

  Portia looked at her mother’s slight frame and laughed. “I would like that. And you should enjoy yourself in every way, Mama. You deserve it.”

  She poured herself tea rather than sherry and took a place beside the fire. As she sipped the steaming liquid, she kept thinking about Miles. His expression, every turn of phrase, his eyes that would not look at her…

  “And you may lose a stone that you cannot afford,” her mother said as she sat across from her daughter and frowned. “You are not having dessert and you hardly touched your meal. One cannot exist on one’s husband alone.”

  Portia jolted at the directness and awareness of her mother’s statement. She stared, but Thomasina was innocently spearing a bite of sumptuous cake with a fork.

  “M-Mama!” Portia finally stammered.

  “You needn’t be so shocked. I wasn’t always a batty old woman,” her mother said with a sigh that belied the teasing of her tone. “I understand what it is like when one is first married to a handsome man. Luckily, it seems Miles is not so fickle as your father turned out to be.”

  Portia bit her lip. Right now she wasn’t as certain as her mother.

  “Miles is kind, he is generous, but we are not a love match,” she said instead. “I would not be so foolish as to think our current circumstances will not change in a heartbeat.”

  Or that they already hadn’t.

  She shrugged. “All I can do is try to keep the man happy as long as I can and hope he remains true to his promises after that.”

  Her mother set her plate aside and clenched her hands in her lap. “Of course a wife’s duty is to think about the happiness of her husband,” she said slowly. “But, my dear, I encourage you not to do so at the cost of your own.”

  Portia shook her head in disbelief. Was this the woman who had been so cut off from reality and the world for the past few years that Portia sometimes wasn’t certain she was aware of any of it? Was this her mother?

  “Being here is good for you,” she finally responded, her hands shaking in her lap. “I wouldn’t endanger that for any price.”

  Now her mother’s expression became worried. “Please don’t make your decisions based on protecting me, Portia. I wouldn’t want to see you follow my path, for it cannot lead to happy places.”

  She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I crushed everything I was while I tried to make happy a man who could not have cared for me no matter what I did.”

  Portia bit her lip. That did sound eerily similar to her own circumstances.

  “But as you say, Miles is not my father,” she argued. “So how do I honor what he desires without sacrificing myself in an attempt to force him to see me, to want me, to love me if he cannot or will not do so?”

  Her mother shifted. “Give him what he desires if it makes you happy. But don’t be afraid to say no if he takes you too far, if you feel he has forgotten to think of you and your needs.” Thomasina reached to take her hand. “I didn’t stand up to your father enough. I wish I had and I don’t want you to say the same thing to your daughter in twenty years.”

  Portia squeezed her mother’s hand gently. “Thank you, Mama, for your advice and candor.”

  Her mother shrugged. “I cannot always give it, I know, but I love you, my darling. I hope you know that.”

  Tears swelled in Portia’s eyes and she dropped to her knees to hug her mother tightly. “I know, Mama. And I love you so very much in return.”

  They clung to each other for a moment and then Portia pulled back, swiping at tears.

  “If ever a moment called for cake, I don’t know when else it would be,” she laughed as she spun to take a slice of the delicious confection.

  Her mother joined in the laughter and for the next hour they spoke of far less troubling subjects, but deep in her mind, Portia couldn’t help but revisit her mother’s advice.

  Saying no to Miles would never be easy, but she realized she might have to do it to save her heart and even her sanity.

  Miles shot a glance at his wife as their carriage slowed to a stop in front of a tidy London home. Once again there was nothing shocking about the place. Nothing that would imply what happened behind its doors.

  But already Portia looked nervous and had been worrying her hands in her lap for the past twenty minutes. He sighed. Their relationship had shifted after secrets shared and tenderness exchanged. Not for the better, perhaps, since awkwardness was now between them, as well as emotions better left unsaid and unfelt.

  “Is every middle-class home in the city a haven for sin?” Portia asked with a nervous laugh that broke a small portion of the tension.

  He shook his head as the footman opened the door for them. “Only the ones I take you to, but doesn’t it make traveling through London more interesting as you wonder what happens behind each door?”

  She pondered that for a moment before she nodded with a blush. “It does a bit. I never would have imagined.”

  “And it only gets better,” he promised as he waved the servant away to step down himself.

  He turned back to assist her and caught his breath. Above him, looking down, her hand outstretched, she was beautiful in an ethereal way. Her hair was like pale spun gold, her dark eyes wide and unreadable against porcelain skin.

  But more than that, he saw her heart, her loyalty, her strength in the face of adversity. It was all there, written on her face for anyone to see who wasn’t too fool to overlook it.

  He wanted to own her, truly own her, body, soul, heart. He wanted, in that moment, to make her happy in every way for the rest of her days.

  The shock of that realization made him rock back on his heels and stare until she tilted her head.

  “Miles?” she said. “Are you well? You are very pale.”

  He shook away the treacherous, dangerous, foolish thoughts and instead helped her down. “Fine. Come.”

  He knew he sounded short, but he couldn’t risk anything different as he turned on his heel and moved toward the house, with her trailing behind him. It was abominably rude and he couldn’t stop it. Not without saying too much, not without her seeing everything because she was clever.

  The door opened and the servant there nodded and motioned toward the staircase leading up and up. He reached back and took her hand at last, squeezing gently as he led her up to the second floor, then down a hallway to a chamber.

  They stood at the closed door and he turned to face her. She was pale, shaking even though she was trying to hold herself steady.

  He cupped her slender shoulders with his palms and stared into her eyes, even as he silently ordered himself not to get lost there, not to change his mind about the prudence of what they were about to do.

  “I don’t hear the…the moans like I did at the club,” Portia whispered.

  He nodded. “That is because there aren’t many others here. This isn’t a club, it is a private residence used for very special rendezvous.”

  Swallowing hard, she murmured, “Special.”

  He squeezed gently. “I will be here with you,” he reassured her.

  She hesitated, but then
she nodded, giving him her trust. His chest swelled at that and he released her to open the door behind him so that she wouldn’t see how much her faith meant to him.

  He stepped aside to allow her into the chamber. She took one step into the large room, looking around in nervous anticipation, but then she stopped, frozen in place. She turned back to him with a shake of her head.

  “Miles?”

  He looked into the room, seeing it through her still-innocent eyes. Candles flickered all around, a fire burned merrily across from a large bed where two shirtless men stood waiting.

  He took her hand. “Don’t be afraid.”

  She tugged gently against his grip. “What is happening?”

  “You have this idiotic idea that no one could desire you, that you were invisible before our circumstances forced me to see you for the desirable woman you are.” He swallowed because the next sentence was suddenly impossible to say. “Tonight, these men will prove to you how wrong you are.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Portia could scarcely breathe as she stared at Miles. She was going mad, that was the only explanation for what she had just heard.

  “You want me,” she panted, “to go to bed with those two men?”

  He hesitated, then shook his head. “Not fully.”

  She blinked, frustration meeting confusion and shock. “What does that mean?”

  “I would not want you to completely submit yourself, not until—” Miles cut himself off with an uncomfortable shift of his weight. “But they will pleasure you without…without penetration.”

  Portia’s mind spun and her heart sank deep, deep into her stomach. Not until? Not until what, he was finished with her? Not until she had borne him a few unquestionably legitimate heirs? Not until he didn’t give a damn anymore?

  “And what will you be doing while this is going on?” she asked, clenching her teeth and trying not to allow tears to fall. “Fully penetrating some whore in another chamber?”

  He shook his head and his eyes were wide with surprise. “No, Portia, of course not. I will be watching you be pleasured. And when you cannot take it anymore, they will leave and I will enjoy the fruits of their labor.”

  Portia leaned against the wall beside the door and tried to catch her breath. None of this made sense, but she had to focus. Think.

  She looked at the two men who were apparently here to seduce her in front of her husband. She couldn’t deny they were very handsome. One was dark blond, thickly muscled like something out of Viking lore. The other was a taller, dark-haired man, lean from work.

  Neither one made her quiver the way Miles did, but she couldn’t pretend they weren’t attractive. And they were watching her with open, blatant interest that was reinforced by thrusting erections beneath both men’s trousers.

  Somewhere deep within her, a scandalous flame ignited. What Miles proposed was wicked beyond words. But what would it feel like to be the center of attention of not one but two strangers? Strangers with what appeared to be very strong hands.

  She shivered and looked at Miles again.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  He lifted his eyebrows as if he were shocked at her question. As if every man offered his wife to other men and not a word was said about it.

  “For your pleasure,” he explained. “For mine.”

  “For yours,” she said.

  He wanted this. If she said no, the newly developed distance between them might only grow wider.

  She sucked in a breath and stepped farther into the room. The two men, her temporary lovers, straightened up with welcoming smiles.

  “Did I lie about her beauty?” Miles said from behind her.

  She jolted as she awaited the answer.

  “You did not,” the taller man said with a smile. “In fact, she may be more delectable than you described.”

  Portia looked for the lie in his eyes, but she could see none. He did truly desire her.

  She peeked over her shoulder at Miles. He nodded.

  “Go ahead. I will put a stop to it when it is time.”

  With a shiver, she walked toward the smiling men. With everything in her, she tried to block Miles out, to surrender as he wished, but she could feel his eyes on her even as the dark-haired man took her hand and drew her to stand between them. She could feel the warm, sweet breath of the muscular blond behind her ear, and her body reacted with desire of its own accord. It was both thrilling and yet it felt like a betrayal.

  “Do you have names?” she whispered as the dark man before her cupped her cheek.

  “Call me D and he is R,” D said. “It is easier than names, more anonymous.”

  She swallowed. “And what will you call me?”

  The blond man behind her, R, wrapped a hand around her waist and drew her against his hard chest.

  “Beautiful,” he breathed.

  She let her eyes flutter shut, indulging in sensation in the hopes she could end the war raging in her confused, heated mind.

  R cupped her breasts from behind and her body fully tensed as he began to massage the sensitive flesh. Miles had insisted she go without undergarments again, and her thin silk gown was hardly protection against the touch. Her nipples hardened as pleasure began to ignite between her legs to spiral through her body.

  In front of her, D cupped her neck and lowered his mouth to hers. His lips covered hers and she wanted to run. She had never been kissed before Miles and now another man’s mouth on hers was strange. But he was skilled and her body once again betrayed her when her lips parted and she groaned as he touched his tongue to hers.

  She felt hands on the buttons along the front of her gown and her eyes flew open. As he continued to kiss her, D parted her dress and pushed it from her shoulders, baring her from the waist up. He drew back and looked down at her, eyes focused on her flesh. A heated blush rushed through her and she had to force herself not to cover her nakedness.

  This was what Miles wanted. She reminded herself of that over and over again.

  “You truly are beautiful,” D murmured as he leaned down, pressing kisses along the column of her throat.

  Behind her, R began to rotate his hips against her backside, allowing her to feel the hard length of his erection. She shuddered at the feel of that combined with D’s kisses, the way he lowered, lowered until his tongue swirled around her puckered nipple. He sucked and her knees buckled as she cried out and looked toward Miles.

  He was slouched on a chair across the room, watching it all with an unreadable expression. She could see his body was aroused, but what did he think as he watched her? What did he feel when he saw her in this position with other men…strangers?

  Strangers who were now working together to push her gown over her hips and away from her body, leaving her naked between them.

  She blushed, dipping her chin so she wouldn’t see their stares rake over her even though she felt every heated moment. Her emotions were so tangled she could scarcely understand them all. She was both aroused and embarrassed, she wanted more, but she also wanted to run and hide.

  And yet if the two men sensed any of that, they did not slow their seduction. Slowly, D turned her so that she faced R and now it was his turn to cup her face and kiss her. He was more forceful than the other man, demanding with his tongue. She jerked her hands to his lower arms to steady herself and melted into the passion and promise of his kiss.

  Behind her, D rained light kisses along her shoulders, stoking his fingers over her flesh before he tasted it. Along her spine, his touch was unexpectedly powerful and she broke the kiss to cry out with pleasure as he dropped to his knees and pressed hot kisses into the hollow just above her naked backside.

  “So responsive,” R murmured as he cupped her breasts together and stroked his thumbs over the distended nipples until Portia could hardly breathe.

  “Very,” D responded with a smile in his tone. “Are you certain we cannot have her, my lord?”

  Portia turned her face toward Miles, eyes wide but
too overcome by desire to be able to speak. He sat up straight and shook his head.

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation or question. “Our arrangement stands, gentlemen.”

  “A pity,” R whispered as he slowly dropped to his own knees before her, his mouth dragging over her body. “But I’m certain we will both enjoy this greatly.”

  Before Portia could respond to or question what R meant, he urged her to stand with her legs farther apart and gently parted her sex. He rubbed his cheek against her thigh and then darted out a thick, hot tongue to tease her already wet and aching clitoris. Meanwhile, behind her, D did the same, but he instead parted the smooth globes of her backside and gently placed a wet finger at the tight, forbidden entrance to her bottom.

  The two touches, so focused, so wild and illicit, made her knees weak and she had to lean on R to keep from collapsing on the floor. She felt utterly desired, beautiful, erotic as the two men gently tasted and teased her.

  And yet these wicked moments were nothing compared to how she felt when Miles smiled down at her as he slowly pressed his cock deep within her. Or the feel of his arms around her after they made love all afternoon and then lazed in the drowsy warmth of his bed.

  There was no denying that these two men were talented lovers. And if she offered herself to them, she would be given powerful orgasms, she would be gifted physical pleasures that would curl her toes.

  But there was more at stake than that now. If she did this, she would never be able to take it back. It would color every exchange with Miles for the rest of their years together. It would allow him to believe she was happy being a sexual plaything only, someone he could pass to some other man when he was finished with her and feeling guilty.

  Even as pleasure mobbed her, she remembered her mother’s admonishment not to tend to Miles’ happiness at the sacrifice of her own.

  There was only one thing to do. No matter how hard it would be.

  With difficulty, she pushed R away and stepped to the side to extract herself from the powerful embrace of her would-be lovers. She dropped to pick up her dress and lifted it to cover her nudity as she shook her head at the two men.