Secret Pleasures
Authors: Cheryl Howe
Secret Pleasures
by
Cheryl Howe
First Kindle Edition,
October
2012
Copyright 2012 © by Cheryl Howe
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes
.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Edited by Janet Wellington, author and independent editor
.
Contact Janet at [email protected].
Cover by
Sexy Book Covers
To
Jerry and Stacy
Yours is one of my favorite love stories.
12 March 1782
Dearest Darien,
It pains me to have to bid you a final farewell in the cold formality of a letter.
NINE YEARS LATER
Ivy Templeton raised an eyebrow at the masked man lounging on
the vermillion velvet covered
fainting couch
.
His domino had fallen open, revealing his engorged sex proudly rising from his opened breeches
.
A dairymaid
knelt
between his booted feet in obvious anticipation. Her costumer had neglected to include a chemise, and her low-cut bodice exposed swollen nipples that had clearly been rouged
.
A slim young
man
in a tight-fitting
silk
suit perched on the furnishing’s back and licked the rim of the man’s ear
.
He gripped the base of the other man’s cock and offered it to the dairymaid.
The masked man gasped, his gaze still locked with Ivy’s
.
He reached out his hand in invitation
.
Ivy smirked and turned away
.
She had most definitely arrived at the wrong party. She needed to locate the front door or another glass of champagne
.
Whichever arrived first would decide her fate.
An instant later,
Darien Blackmore appeared from a crush of costumed revelers
.
Ivy
at first
suspected the pots of incense scattered about were not merely for an exotic effect but omitted opium
.
Had h
er darkest demon arrived to save her lost soul
?
Her heart quickened its beat.
The moment
Darien
caught sight of her, he shook his head and grinned
.
Yes, she was most definitely hallucinating
.
Darien had not smiled upon her in almost ten years
.
And then she remembered
she wore a
white silk mask
, its
attached gauze scarf
concealing her
from eyebrow to chin
.
Darien strolled over
,
as if to be by her side was as natural as breathing
.
He was definitely no illusion
.
Ivy’s heart flooded with memories too heartbreakingly innocent to
even
be contemplated in the midst of a beau monde masquerade
.
Before
tears of
unresolved sorrow could destroy her thick Egyptian eyeliner, Ivy frantically glanced about for the young buck with whom she had agreed to meet this evening
.
His choice of amusements proved tiresome.
“I know who you are
.
Do you know who I am?
”
Darien parried the standard masquerade ball greeting with a mocking smirk
.
Since that had long been Darien’s manner, Ivy was still not certain he recognized her.
He leisurely examined the thin gauze of her Isis costume, making no effort to hide his interest in what
lay
underneath
.
Not that Darien ever could
.
Ivy took the opportunity to study him as thoroughly
.
Their last chance encounter had been at a gathering in Cornwall
.
Though Darien had not spoken to her directly, he made a scene from across the ballroom by accosting the host and ending the party
.
So it seemed highly unlikely he even recognized her at all
.
She should be grateful for the mask
.
His beard had grown heavier over the years, and shadowed his jaw
.
She breathed in his fragrance, vaguely familiar yet sadly different from the adolescent who had been her constant companion
.
Tears she had not shed in
nearly
a decade burned in the back of her throat with a fresh sense of loss
.
Being a stranger to Darien Blackmore proved more painful than his scorn.
“You are not even wearing a mask,
Darien,
” Ivy said instead of answering his foolish question
.
She yanked off her mask in the event he still didn’t recognize her
.
“How did you slip past the man at the door?”
“I told him I was a sheep farmer.” He plopped a sweat-stained felt hat atop his head and tugged a corner over his eyes
.
“I also tipped him five quid.”
That he still joked as he did in his youth pleased Ivy beyond measure. She returned his welcoming smile but their truce was short
-
lived
.
Slowly, Darien’s grin slid from his face
.
Ivy followed his stunned stare
.
The amorous threesome that
to her
had seemed tame in the face of Darien stumbling into a
sordid
London soirée
,
had attracted a gathering of voyeurs
.
The dairymaid had removed her apron leaving only her stockings and ankle boots
.
Her pale bottom lifted, exposing her inner pink folds, as she sucked her dominoed companion’s cock in exaggerated ecstasy
.
The silk-clad youth leaned over the edge of the couch and rode the dairymaid with a single ringed finger.
A warm flush infused Ivy’s cheek
s
and she turned to Darien
.
The performance held his rapt fascination
.
His nostrils flared with his increased breathing.
“I am surprised to find you here,” Ivy said, needing to break the tension
.
Darien’s nearness tempted her to yearn for impossibilities.
Darien
re
turned
his attention
to her
.
“I wish I could say the same.”
“You don’t venture to London much, do you
?
This all must be shocking for one unaccustomed to our wicked ways.
”
Ivy tried to sound droll instead of crushed by Darien’s reminder of her tainted status
.
Obviously he knew exactly who she was and she’d be a fool to think he would ever forgive her.
“I think I have been too harsh in my judgment of London.”
Sh
e
followed his stare as his
returned to the fainting couch and the ménage
à
trois
.
A
sultan snuggled up behind the lad and slipped a hand in the front of his peacock blue breeches
.
The boy rocked against the
newcomer
who kissed the soft slope of his neck.
“I came here to find someone to accompany me to a ball on Friday
.
Do you think the one in blue’s available?”
he asked, looking at Ivy again.
“Possibly
.
I think they are professionals
.
Half entertainment, half encouragement
.
Since when do you attend balls?”
she asked, holding his gaze.
“Only ones that honor my father, thrown by future in-laws who were not informed of my banishment.”
Ivy’s heart seized at the prospect that Darien had finally decided to marry
.
But
, still,
he did say he was searching for an escort
, which was puzzling
.
“You intend to bring a prostitute to your own engagement party
?
That’s shocking even for you.
”
“No,
it’s
my father
who
has chosen to take a bride.” He shrugged, but a mischievous spark smoldered in his brown eyes
.
The naughty-boy charm that had been so compelling in his youth was sexually charged and completely disarming now that he had become a fully grown man
.
“He wants an heir and you know how he often takes matters into his own hands.”
Darien returned his gaze to the now foursome whose chorus of ecstasy rivaled the Mozart floating from the other room
.
She prayed he didn’t see her wince over his
subtle
reference to her relationship with his father.
“So you intend to take a prostitute to your father’s wedding?”
“I wasn’t invited
to the wedding
and I doubt I will be
.
The mistaken invitation arrived for the ball where they will announce their engagement
.
Perhaps you would care to join me?”
“Perhaps
.
This Friday, you said
?
I shall have to check my
calendar
to see if I’m otherwise engaged
.
My Friday evenings are often filled.
”
Ivy forced herself to meet his gaze and hoped her voice held steady
.
She had never lied to Darien face to face, but he had never given her the chance
.
“
I’m quite inundated with the gents who want a bit of muslin before the end of the season
.
My reputation keeps me in demand, you know
.
”