LORD DECADENT'S OBSESSION (12 page)

without thinking, but found he had no regret. She smiled a kissable smile, her eyes

sparkling. "Prentice it is," she said with enthusiasm. "Prentice it is."

"Are you hungry?"

"Just a bit."

"Well, let us have a light meal, and then I might have a surprise or two for you."

As they ate the cold meat pies, washing them down with wine and finishing with

fresh fruit, Prentice asked prying questions. He knew he might upset her, but he wished

to know something more about the lady, who, at least for the moment, was occupying

so much of his time.

"My father died shortly after I married. My mother died just a few years ago. I

have a brother, but he lives in Virginia; we haven't seen each other in seven years. I

have assorted aunts and uncles, but no one close."

"You must have been lonely these last years, living."

"I am wealthy and not terribly concerned what society thinks or feels. From the

little I have seen at the club, there is much going on that
society
professes a distaste for

but participates in quite enthusiastically."

Prentice laughed. "It is true. We have lords and ladies involved in every manner

of lascivious behavior, but outside the club they act as though they have never seen a

naked body in their lives. It's laughable."

"Your staff must be made up of remarkable people," she said, changing the

subject.

"They are paid well to look the other way. I have employed the same people for

years. They know me and know I will always look out for them. They also know I will

crush them if I find they've gossiped."

"Remind me never to cross you."

"I know where your vulnerable parts are, my dear."

"Yes, I suppose you do."

Her expression revealed what he thought to be an inexplicable sadness, but he

wasn't inclined to explore the reason.

They were still naked, a condition he informed her would be expected during

their stay at the folly. "No one will come anywhere near here, and I want you available

without fripperies."

"Fine, sir, if that is what you wish." She bowed her head in reverence.

He lit a fire and set down blankets and pillows on the floor. He filled their wine

glasses and led her to the pallet he'd created. There, as they watched the flames, he

described, in brilliant detail, exactly what the next few days would entail.

"I expect you will learn more about yourself than you have ever imagined."

"What of you, Prentice? What will I learn of you?"

It took no thought at all to say, "Nothing," and mean it. He was always guarded,

except with Lucien, who knew all his secrets and would protect them with his life.

"Oh, but there must be something I will discover."

"You will have enough to cope with when your endurance is tested. You needn't

bother worrying about my dull life."

She began to cough at that statement. "Admittedly, I don't know you well, but

from all I have observed, your life is anything but dull."

"I have been fortunate to be able to live life on my own terms, but short of

meeting pleasant women such as yourself, I live a rather mundane existence."

"We must see if we can't remedy that, sir," she said, as she rolled toward him and

took his blazing erection into her mouth.

"Ah, that, my dear, is a good start."

Chapter Twelve

Prentice's mind went blank. Desiree sucked him as though his cock were a stick

of peppermint candy. My God, where did she learn to do this? His body convulsed as

she brought him to the brink, and then backed away, prolonging the delicious torment.

He could have sworn he heard her chuckle when he'd anticipated his release,

only to have her clever tongue move to a less sensitive spot. The tension built and

abated until he was sure he'd go mad with want.

His hands held her head in place, his fingers gripping her hair. He wasn't sure he

could keep from pulling, and his mind was too consumed to care.

"Now, please." He could stand no more, greedy bastard that he was. He thrust

his hips up, jamming his cock fully into her throat. He heard a chocking sound but her

head, tongue and lips never stopped moving. The sensations were unearthly. He was in

cock-eating heaven, a place from which he never wished to return.

He threw his head back as he exploded into her mouth, feeling her swallow

frantically.

"Oh, fuck."

He wasn't in control of his jerky movements as the aftershocks kept coming, and

his hips kept thrusting. His cock throbbed inside her warm, moist mouth as the last

vestiges of his seed were being pumped down her throat. He felt a vibration.

"Mmm."

Weakly, he lowered his head, and a most beautiful sight met his eyes. Desiree

was laving his nearly limp cock, not letting a drop of his seed escape her tongue. His

heart thrummed, and fear seized his body. The kind of fear one has when the unknown

stares you in the face and threatens your
way
of life, but not your life itself. The fear that

your life is about to change, and the balance you have so carefully established is about

to be upset.

He gently pulled her to his chest, setting his fear aside, albeit temporarily. He

kissed her, tasting himself on her lips. The aroma of sex filled the air, an aphrodisiac to

the lusty beast his body hosted.

"Very well done, my dear. Well done, indeed."

"I am so happy you enjoyed it." Her eyes twinkled, seducing his mind

completely.

He held her for several minutes, mediating a battle between reason and want.

He closed his eyes and fell into a familiar train of thought. He'd long ago

accepted something about himself that, from the outside, few people but those who

knew him well would ever guess. Prentice Hyde's thoughts trended toward the

perverted. Nothing or no one would ever change that about him, for he was quite

content—no, downright happy—fulfilling his wicked fantasies, all the while wishing to

again share them with someone who was equally wicked.

He'd not apologized to anyone for getting a raging cockstand as he spanked a

lady's ass. The turn of a pretty ankle hadn't done it for him since he was thirteen.

Abigail had understood him without question, had participated and enjoyed, not

just allowed him to do as was his wont. She was a jewel in his life, one he knew he

hadn't deserved.

Now, another woman had come into his life, his equal in many ways, able to take

the pain of his spankings, and later, beg for more. As he held her, he questioned

whether she could withstand the whole of what he had in store. There were things he'd

not done to her, urges he'd purposely quelled, lest she run for the hills screaming for his

commission to Bedlam.

Over the next couple of days, he would do them all and maybe more. His actions

would either end their arrangement for good or bind them together in a way he was

unsure he even wanted. He dared not think he could ever find a partner like Abigail,

but he must test Mrs. Huntington.

She lay in his arms, eyes closed, lazily dancing her fingers threw the hair on his

chest.

Brushing errant tendrils from her face, he said, "Sleep now. You, my lady, have a

very busy day ahead of you."

He rose from the comfortable pallet then reached down for her hand. She was as

light as a waif, yet built for pleasure. Her breasts jiggled just enough to entice his

tongue to taste them. Her tiny waist begged his hands to encircle it. Her luscious ass

invited any number of acts that would wait for another day.

"Before we sleep, would you finish what you started, sir? You've left me in quite

a state."

"Imagine how needy you will be in the morning." He gave her an impish smile.

She pouted prettily but conceded, following him to the bedchamber. The room

was as he remembered, not quite the well-appointed bedchamber in a London

townhouse, but quaint, rustic. He'd always loved the white birch paneled walls,

remembering the one thing his mother liked about the place was the open, airy feel

during the daytime hours. The very few times his mother had come here, she'd stood at

the single window, threw it open, allowing a cool, clean breeze to billow the pale blue

muslin curtains. He realized the bed was the same, not as wide as the one he and

Desiree shared at the club, but adequate.

"This is lovely," Desiree said, as she sniffed the air. "Mmm, lavender."

"It's the sheets, if memory serves." Changing the subject, he called her attention

to a particular point of fascination for him. "Look at the ceiling."

Desiree looked up.

"I remember watching the builders cut those logs and assemble them as a dome. I

was quite enamored of their ability to create something so simple, yet beautiful. This

folly has always been one of my favorite places in the world."

He pointed out the amenities, scant as they were. There was a carved wooden

screen, which created a privy. The washstand stood on the other side of the room. "In

the morning, I will heat water for you," he said, giving her a playful wink.

She'd barely laid her head upon the pillow before he heard the soft, even

breathing that indicated her lapse into slumber. He knew it wouldn't be that easy for

him. He'd come to the country to say goodbye. Could he possibly be contemplating

opening a new chapter in his life so soon? The possibility frightened him but the

thought of losing the sexually adventuresome Desiree brought to mind, with vivid

emphasis, the desolate years ahead, taking pleasure where it came, and leaving him

with an empty heart.

He turned to her, propped up on one elbow. As he looked at her peaceful face,

innocent in repose, he imagined endless nights like this, with her in his bed, a true

partner. A chuckle rose in his throat at the thought of being married to some missish

little debutante and what their wedding night might be like.

"Well, now, my lady, would you mind baring your creamy ass, as I am inclined to spank

you until you can't stand up and then fuck you blind."

"Why, husband,"
she might say,
" I have never heard of such things."

"You have now, so get to it."

He then envisioned seeing her wagging ass as she headed out the door and back

to Mama, who had failed to inform her preciousness that men are indeed perverse

creatures, who'd sometimes demand more than some women are willing to give.

Marriage loomed in his future, as his mother had so informed him any number

of times, but he had resisted until he met Desiree. Though he wasn't sure he could love

her, he was certain he could enjoy her.

Intoxicating dreams lured him into his rest, dreams of red cheeks and satisfied

cocks.

* * * * *

Sunshine flooded the room, drawing Desiree from her slumber. Clean air

assailed her senses, as did chirping birds and the smell of bacon. Lightly patting the

bedcovers next to her, she found she was alone in the room, but there was a clamor

going on in the house.

She heard several curses as something metal hit the floor with a terrible,

resounding clang.

She gingerly hopped out of bed, threw on her dress, and opened the door, just as

Prentice let fly words she had never heard, in a tongue she thought was foreign.

He was hopping around the kitchen on one foot, wearing nothing but a scowl.

"What are you doing?"

"I am trying to make breakfast, but I fear I am out of my depth."

"First rule of the kitchen, one does not fix bacon in the nude. It could prove

injurious to certain valuable parts of one's anatomy."

He looked at her with his eyes slanted to the side. "You couldn't have told me

that a half hour ago? Really?" The question seemed like an afterthought and sounded as

though he should have thought of that himself.

"You haven't made a complete mess of it, but you must dress for safety. I fear

you will have to make use of your, ah, valuable bits, and we wouldn't want them

burned and out of commission, now would we?"

"I suppose I should have asked Mrs. Polton how to do this but it seemed rather

straightforward. I hadn't counted on the food protesting."

Desiree laughed at his foolishness and sent him off, out of range of the battling

bacon.

Soon, she had a simple country breakfast prepared, complete with coffee, eggs,

toast, and the errant meat. He came to the table dressed in breeches, boots and a white

lawn shirt, worn untucked. They ate like starved adventurers, as they discussed his

utter failure as a cook.

"Where did you ever learn to cook, Desiree? I assumed you had servants to see to

such mundane pursuits."

"I enjoy such things, though I confess I haven't done much of it in recent years. I

do believe I can handle our meals here though, as someone must protect you from

yourself."

He laughed with unburdened enthusiasm. She admired a man who recognized

his own failings. She was forced to stem the tide of unwanted thoughts at that moment,

for she wanted nothing to spoil this bucolic respite.

As she cleared the dishes away, Prentice rose. "I have plans for you today."

"I assumed you would."

"Would you care to go for a walk?"

Her heart leapt. "Yes, absolutely."

"Take off the dress."