“A common occurrence among men and their sons,” she said. “I see it every day.”
It would seem she was as delicate and naïve as Sheridan had thought her. She never could have imagined such things took place among London’s elite. Oh, of course, she knew men had their vices—drink, gambling, whores—but to take one’s young son to a brothel seemed a bit uncouth.
“He would allow me to pick the whores, any one I wanted, but never the same one twice. Because, of course, whores are dispensable and interchangeable. They aren’t to be clung to or cared about. The first couple of times, he allowed me to go at it alone, and asked me how it went afterward. He was always insistent upon details.”
Now Cecily knew they’d crossed the line. They no longer spoke of a normal father and son rite of passage. This proved something far more sinister.
“Why did he want details?”
“I did not know, at first,” he admitted. “But I knew not to question him. He had his reasons and I always obeyed him. It wasn’t until he insisted upon sitting in on my … sessions, that I understood.”
Cecily felt as if she would be ill. “He watched you?”
“Yes. The first time, I felt so nervous it almost made me ill. He insisted it was necessary and that I would thank him someday. This was an important lesson, one only he could teach me. So I … I did it. I had intercourse with a whore with him in the same room. Hardly enjoyable for me, though she seemed to have a good time. Of course, she’d been paid to pretend one way or the other. After she left, he descended on me and beat me soundly.”
Petra frowned, reacting to this bizarre story for the first time since he’d begun. “Beat you? Whatever for?”
“Apparently, my performance didn’t meet his satisfaction. I’d been too nice to her. I’d showed her courtesy. When I thought I’d entered her too roughly, I’d asked if I’d hurt her. When it was over, I gave her towels and a bowl of water to clean herself with. These were my offenses—enough to warrant a facer that nearly knocked me unconscious and several blows to the ribs.”
“Animal,” Petra muttered, her disgust clear.
“On that, we agree,” he replied, his tone strained and clipped. “It continued. Each time we went to the brothel, he would watch and tell me what I’d done wrong or right. Then he would instruct me on how a lady must be treated. A man’s wife should be a woman above reproach. Pure, chaste, and virtuous. How else could he be certain she would bear him sons that weren’t someone else’s by-blows? Ladies were delicate, he told me. They didn’t have the constitution to stomach a man’s voracious attentions.”
“But whores could.”
He nodded, confirming Petra’s statement. “But whores could. Every act other than the most basic practice of penetration, I was taught to perform only on whores or my mistress, if ever I were to take one. If a gently bred girl is taught to close her eyes and think of England when her husband is on top of her, how on Earth is she supposed to react when I …”
He trailed off, the embarrassed blush coming back to his face.
“Put your cock in her mouth?”
His head snapped up when Petra spoke. The Madame gave him a little smile.
“And here we have arrived at the true reason behind your reticence, my lord,” she said. “Your father, with his lessons and beatings, taught you to associate certain sexual acts with whores and women of ill repute. These so-called lessons … how long did they last?”
“Three years.”
Petra sighed. “Long enough to ingrain those foolish notions. It is no wonder you have been holding back.”
He ran a shaking hand through his hair and sighed.
“I haven’t wanted to,” he said, finally looking her in the eye. “You cannot know how hard it’s been.”
She smiled, reaching up to touch his face. “Yes, I do know. I’ve wanted more for so long, but I was afraid to speak up, worried you would be disgusted with me.”
He laughed, covering her hand with his. “Do you remember our wedding night? I came to you, and you stood there wearing that gossamer bit of white tulle and lace … Christ, there wasn’t an inch of you I couldn’t see through the flimsy scrap.”
They laughed together, and her heart warmed at the memory.
“How could I forget? I stood there, trembling like a leaf. My mother had told me what would happen; yet, I still felt anxious … but, I knew you would treat me well.”
“I remember picking you up and carrying you over to that bed, and thinking you looked like an angel laying there all in white, on sheets to match, with the moonlight in your hair. I didn’t think anything sweeter existed in the world, and I vowed then to protect you from any and everything—including my baser needs. I never wanted to hurt you, and I never wanted to give you reason to look at me and feel disgust.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close for a kiss. He clung to her, accepting her lips and tongue, devouring them as if he’d never tasted anything more satisfying.
“When I look at you, I feel desire,” she murmured, pulling away. “It burns deep in my belly, and between my legs, and I know that nothing will satisfy it but you.”
He trembled in her arms, his muscles tensing with unreleased strain. She shivered in response, all too aware of the power and virility locked away inside. All that remained was for him to unleash it without restraint.
“Let me be the one you explore your passions with,” she whispered. “Let me fulfill your deepest desires.”
“I want to,” he replied, hands coming up to span her waist. “So very badly. I don’t want to hold back from you anymore, but it’s so bloody difficult.”
“Then we will help you,” she said, determination filling her. They’d come so far already; she refused to let up until Sheridan had put his father’s grotesque philosophies and teachings behind him. “One step at a time. Isn’t that right, Petra?”
She glanced at her ally, and found determination in her eyes, as well.
“We begin right now,” Petra declared, a mischievous glint filling her dark eyes.
Sheridan tensed. “Now?”
Petra extended one hand to Cecily. She accepted it, and let the other woman assist her onto the floor of the carriage. Joining her, she knelt and stared up at Sheridan expectantly.
“Yes,” she replied, “now. Open your breeches, my lord.”
His jaw ticked spasmodically, but curiosity and desire flashed in his eyes.
“Why?” he asked, even as he complied with her wishes.
“I am going to help you associate your sexual desires with your wife. We are going to undo your father’s teaching by reconditioning you to see your wife as your sole source of pleasure and desire, no matter how salacious that desire might be.”
Sheridan’s cock sprang free of his breeches, standing proudly in his lap. Cecily’s nipples tightened at the sight, remembering the feel of him inside of her. Yet, there remained one way she hadn’t experienced him. Her mouth watered for a taste.
“I am at your disposal,” he replied, his voice deep and husky.
She recognized the tones of desire beneath his usual bass.
“Good,” Petra replied, smiling. “Your first lesson … allowing your wife the intimacy of taking your cock into her mouth.”
His lips parted and his breath hitched. His cock seemed to swell even more in response to her words.
Petra turned to face her. “Would you like that, love?”
She nodded, her own lips parted as the need to fulfill that particular fantasy overcame all else.
“Yes,” she replied. “But … I don’t know how. Will you teach me?”
The Madame’s lips curved into a sensual smile, and she reached up to cup the back of her neck. Petra’s lips hovered inches from hers, causing her to tremble with anticipation.
“Nothing would bring me more pleasure,” she replied, before capturing her mouth in a fiery kiss.
Chapter Eleven
Sheridan’s cock pulsated with need�
�becoming further exacerbated by the sight of the two beautiful women kneeling before him. He gripped the randy organ, applying pressure to relieve the ache. It hardly aided him, when all he wanted was Cecily’s plump lips wrapped around his rod. Or perhaps Petra’s. He shivered at the thought of both tongues running up and down his shaft.
His breath hitched, then released on a low groan. The surface of his skin tingled, and he felt as if one touch from either of them would unman him, causing him to finish before they’d even begun.
His throat constricted as he watched them kiss, their writhing tongues meeting between parted lips. Cecily’s soft moans filled the carriage, mingling with Petra’s low murmurs of satisfaction. Her long, slender fingers gripped the front of his wife’s bodice, peeling it down to reveal her breasts. The sweet, pink nipples puckered and hardened when she pinched them, rolling them between her fingers and making Cecily shudder.
Leaning forward, he did the same to Petra, revealing her tits and palming them. Her nipples hardened, rasping his palms as he kneaded the pliant flesh.
Breaking their kiss, Petra turned to him with a cat-like smile.
“The head of a man’s cock is quite sensitive,” she said, turning back to Cecily. She took his cock in one hand, holding it firmly and causing it to throb in response.
He gasped, thrusting into her hand, desperate for the friction he needed to ease the ache in his groin. She obliged him, giving him a few firm strokes and running her thumb over the slit, drawing a bead of moisture. She smeared it over him, stroking his shaft and teasing his head with her thumb.
His wife looked on, her eyes wide with curiosity as Petra continued stroking him. Leaning forward, she circled him with her tongue, then wrapped her lips around the head and suckled gently.
His hips bucked as he bit back a moan and gripped the carriage seat. He thrust toward her mouth, seeking entrance.
“Ah-ah, my lord,” she admonished as she let him go. “It’s your wife who desires to take you into her mouth.”
She turned to Cecily, using her free hand to give one of her nipples a pinch.
“Don’t you, love?”
She nodded, her answer coming out on a breathless sigh. “Yes.”
Petra maneuvered herself behind Cecily. Remaining on her knees, she spread her thighs and settled Cecily between them, resting her back against her front. She turned her face inward and planted a kiss on Cecily’s jaw.
“Look at your husband,” she murmured. “Touch him.”
His wife obeyed, reaching out with a tentative hand. Her fingers brushed his shaft, then stroked downward toward his bollocks. He slouched on the carriage seat, leaning back to watch her explore him. After a few more timid touches, she grew bold, wrapping her fingers around his cock the way Petra had done. Her touch branded him, sending a fresh surge of desire through him. If at all possible, his erection swelled even further, eager for more.
“You might be on your knees before him,” Petra whispered, reaching up to cup Cecily’s breasts from behind. “But your position is one of power. From here, you can command his body. You can claim him in a way you never have before, and bend him to your will. He experiences only the pleasure you choose to give him.”
You’ve bloody well got that right!
Just now, he’d have given Cecily anything she asked, if only she’d wrap those sweet lips around him.
As she stroked him, gently at first, but then with increasing boldness, Petra glanced up and locked gazes with him.
“Look at your wife, my lord,” she said. Reaching up, she cupped Cecily’s face, tilting it back for better access to her neck. She lowered her head and placed a row of open-mouth kisses along the side of her neck, causing her strokes to slow and her breasts to heave as she shivered in response.
Steadily teasing his wife’s nipples, Petra continued, her stare never wavering from his.
“Isn’t she beautiful? Such plump, inviting lips.” Her thumb stroked along the line of Cecily’s jaw, then arced up, caressing her lips.
“Yes,” he rasped, his gaze fixated on that thumb as she parted Cecily’s lips.
His wife opened her mouth and her pink tongue darted out, stroking the pad of Petra’s thumb. His hips surged again and he ground his cock into the tight fist clenching him.
“You want her lips on your hard cock, don’t you?” Petra murmured.
“Yes,” he repeated.
“Then let her,” she insisted. “There is no greater pleasure to be known than between two lovers whose hearts are also engaged. She is your wife. Let her become a vessel for your pleasure, and in turn, you become one for hers. She wants this—don’t you, my love? Look at your husband and tell him what you want.”
Cecily’s heavy-lidded eyes met his.
“I want to taste you, Sherry,” she said, voice deep and husky with desire. “I want to know the feel of you on my lips, against my tongue. I want to pleasure you with my mouth until you come.”
He closed his eyes, trembling at the promise of a fantasy he’d had so many times.
A man’s wife must kiss his children with her mouth; it must remain uncorrupted. If you want your cock sucked, find a whore.
The viscount’s voice interrupted, sharp and sudden, nearly robbing him of his pleasure. He grit his teeth and opened his eyes, gazing down at the woman on his knees before her. He’d always seen her as an innocent, a prim little English rose who needed his devotion and care. Yet, Petra had peeled back her girlish layers to reveal the woman within. A woman he had always longed to make love to, to experience in every way he could think of.
“Forget what you have been taught,” Petra insisted, seeming to sense his drifting thoughts. “If your wife is willing—desiring, even—of this moment, will you deny her?”
He gazed from her to Cecily, his heart gripped by the sight of her wide, pleading eyes. She truly wanted this, wanted him, in a way he’d always dreamed of her wanting him. He would be mad to refuse her.
Pushing the viscount and his grating voice aside, he reached down and gripped Cecily’s hair in a gentle but firm grip.
“No,” he answered, pulling her closer.
The head of his cock brushed the seam of her lips, and she parted them. Her darting tongue found the slit of his head and probed it, causing his stomach to clench and his balls to contract. He gasped, his fingers tightening in her hair.
Petra murmured her approval.
“You’re a natural,” she said to Cecily. “Open your mouth, sweetheart. Let him in.”
She obeyed, opening wide to accommodate his girth. He thrust slowly, inching his way into the cavern of her mouth. She brought her tongue up to stroke the underside of his cock, and her mouth closed around him once he’d gone as far as he dared. The urge to push in to the back of her throat came at him strong, but he wanted her to become accustomed to the act of fellatio first. For the moment, he concentrated on her, on watching his wife make love to him with her mouth.
“That’s it,” Petra encouraged, stroking Cecily’s hair affectionately. “Take him in and out, just as you would if he were inside your cunt.”
She obeyed, pulling back, her cheeks caving as she suckled, then coming forward to envelop him all over again. Her first few attempts felt tentative, a tender exploration. His guttural groans at each pass of her lips over his shaft seemed to embolden her, and before long, she increased her pace, encouraged by his hand leading her through the hair gripped in his fist. His head fell back against the carriage seat and he closed his eyes, losing himself in the fiery sensations she created using only her mouth.
A hand closed around his cock, stroking just beneath Cecily’s suckling mouth. He recognized the feel of the slender fingers—Petra. Thrusting against the hand and hot, wet mouth, he moaned, his fingernails digging into the seat’s cushion as he held on for dear life. As one, they increased their pace even more, driving him closer and closer to the brink.
Swirls of color danced on his closed eyelids as Petra’s tongue skimmed the inside of
his thigh, before tickling his bollocks.
“Yes,” he hissed, his hips moving of their own volition, urging his bulging sack closer to Petra’s open mouth.
Her tongue circled them, then her lips drew him in. She suckled while caressing his bollocks with her tongue, increasing his pleasure tenfold.
“Christ, that feels so damn good,” he moaned, his voice grown hoarse.
Cecily released his cock from her mouth, joining Petra’s tongue with her own.
“Fuck!” he bellowed, feeling inches away from death. Surely, no man could endure pleasure like this and survive it.
Taking his own cock in hand, he stroked, urging himself on toward climax as the two hot, wet mouths caressed and suckled his sac.
“Ah … Christ … I’m going to come,” he muttered, his fist tightening as he felt the familiar beginnings of a climax.
Cecily’s tongue stroked over the base of his shaft, then scorched a path over his knuckles toward his swollen head. Snatching his hand away, she enveloped him, sucking him until he shuddered and surrendered to release. Thrusting up one last time, he moaned as his seed spurted from him and into her mouth.
Licking her lips, she pulled away and turned her face up to give him a bright smile.
“Come here,” he murmured, already reaching down to pull her up into his lap. He set her across his thighs, then wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “That was …”
“Marvelous,” she finished for him. “I quite enjoyed it. Did you?”
He laughed, deftly adjusting the neckline of her bodice, even though he was loathe to cover her lovely tits. The driver would stop soon to change horses, leaving them time for little else. The evening would be soon enough for him to finish what they’d started. He hadn’t had nearly enough of her … or their feisty little mistress.
“Darling, if I’d enjoyed any more, I might have died.”
She grinned, nestling against his shoulder and closing his eyes. “At least, you would have died happy.”
Across from them, Petra had settled back on the seat, every hair and bit of clothing in place. She gave him a smug smirk, her eyes twinkling with promise.
A Marriage Most Scandalous (Scandalous Ballroom Encounters Book 2) Page 9