Simply Wicked (6 page)

Marguerite deserved better than this. Dammit, she deserved SIMPLY WICKED / 43

more than he could ever give her. He stepped away from her and bowed.

“I’m sorry, that was damned impertinent of me.”

She stared at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes narrowed.

Was she angry with him or aroused? It was hard to know with a woman.

“I’ll go and get your cloak, find Mrs. Jones and summon the carriage.”

She nodded but didn’t speak, and he sped off on his errand.

Even as his mind sent out its warnings, his body craved more.

He hoped his erection would subside by the time he got back to Marguerite.

Marguerite remained against the wall, one hand pressed to her hot cheek. She’d let Anthony Sokorvsky kiss her. Not only that, but she’d kissed him back. So much for her protestations of love for Justin. Anthony must think her fickle now. She swallowed hard. If he’d kissed her again, she would’ve responded, slid her hand into his thick black hair and held him captive while he plundered her mouth and drew her tight against his body.

He’d been hard; she’d felt the hot press of his cock through the thin silk of her dress and had wanted to rub herself against him and try to recreate the amazing sensations Justin had first aroused in her. Would it be different with another man? Anthony was much taller and broader than Justin, and he’d tasted differently too, more of lemon and lavender than Justin’s cigars and brandy.

God, what was she thinking? No wonder Anthony had

backed away from her. He’d probably meant nothing by his kiss and here she was fantasizing about how he might perform in bed!

44 /
Kate Pearce

“Are you ready to leave, Marguerite? Mrs. Jones says she’ll be back later.”

Mentally berating her chaperone’s lack of concern for her safety, Marguerite managed to hide her blushes as Anthony helped her into her cloak. To her relief, he seemed even less inclined to talk than she was. She could only pray that the carriage ride home would be equally silent and uneventful.

5

“I’m glad you agreed to go out with me again,” Anthony said.

Marguerite bit her lip as he walked her back to their box after the interval. Mrs. Jones had decided to sit with one of her friends for the remainder of the performance, leaving her alone with Anthony in the Sokorvsky’s box.

“I think I overreacted last time.”

“It was, perhaps, understandable. No one likes to be gossiped about.”

“That is true, but I can’t continue to run away from everything, can I?”

He paused to open the door into the shared anteroom that connected the two adjoining boxes and looked down at her, his blue eyes glinting. “That’s exactly what I told myself when I met you.”

“That you should run away?”

His smile warmed her. “No, that I should take the unique opportunity you offered and make the best of it for both our sakes.”

“Such a diplomat.”

46 /
Kate Pearce

“A man in need of some honesty in his life could never succeed as a diplomat.” He took her hand and led her into the ornate box. “I’m just delighted that you wanted to see me after the way I behaved.”

She studied his expression, tried to guess whether her response to his kiss had repulsed or interested him. After almost a week of sleepless nights and vivid sexual dreams of Anthony, perhaps it was time to test the waters.

“Your behavior didn’t offend me.”

He paused before sitting in the chair beside her. “You didn’t object to being kissed?”

Marguerite studied his cravat rather than risk a glance at his face. “I thought I would, but it was . . . nice.”

“
Nice?
”

She looked up at him then, saw the male outrage on his face and fought a smile. “Yes.”

He inclined his head a half inch. “I’m so glad I rate such expansive praise.”

Marguerite sighed. “You only kissed me for a second. Would you prefer I lied and said it was earth-shattering?”

His mouth quirked up at one corner. “Of course I would.”

She looked out over the theater, focused her attention on the thick red velvet and gold curtains across the front of the stage.

Strange that she felt comfortable confiding such an intimate thing to a man she barely knew.

“It is difficult for me to admit even that. After my husband died, I thought I would never kiss a man again.”

He didn’t reply, and she continued to stare out over the rapidly filling theater. To a chorus of whistles and catcalls, the interior went dark and the curtains opened to reveal the archaic set for the second act. She jumped as he took her hand and squeezed.

“Nice is a perfectly acceptable word. And, to be honest, I SIMPLY WICKED / 47

haven’t kissed many women recently, so I might be out of practice.”

Marguerite didn’t believe that for a second. Any man who spent as much time at the pleasure house as Anthony did must be skilled indeed. His hand slid up her arm and over her shoulder, and he tilted up her chin.

“Perhaps we should try again.”

She couldn’t help but glance around. They sat in deep shadow and couldn’t possibly be seen. She wanted him to kiss her with an intensity that surprised her.

“Marguerite?”

Anthony lowered his head until his mouth brushed hers.

She closed her eyes as the tip of his tongue slid past her slightly open lips. She let him explore her mouth, touched her tongue to his and felt heat gather and settle low in her stomach. She couldn’t believe how gentle and tentative he was being. In her limited experience, men took a woman’s mouth like they took her sex, hard and fast. Not that that wasn’t exciting in its own way, but this . . . this was simply enchanting.

Anthony drew back. “Well?”

“That was
very
nice.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I progress. Perhaps one day I’ll wring an excellent out of you.”

She relaxed, content to sit beside him and watch the rest of the play unfold, her gloved hand held firmly within his. She’d imagined her intimate relationship with Justin was unique and couldn’t be repeated. Perhaps she had inherited more of her mother’s temperament than she realized and simply needed to be bedded regularly. The revolutionary thought both alarmed and intrigued her.

Her mother insisted that women were perfectly entitled to enjoy sex as much as men, and that there was no shame in it.

Marguerite licked her lips and tasted Anthony. Was she bold 48 /
Kate Pearce

enough to ask for more, and more important, would Anthony be willing?

Anthony stood up and stretched as the curtains parted yet again to reveal the grinning and bowing actors. A stir of movement in the box opposite him caught his eye, and he recognized Lord Minshom with his latest mistress and usual crowd of obnoxious cronies. God, he hoped Minshom hadn’t seen him. He touched Marguerite’s shoulder.

“I’ll go and fetch our cloaks and order the carriage. Don’t worry if I take a while; it can be a terrible scrum out there.”

“There’s no rush. I’m happy to wait here and see if Mrs. Jones returns or if she has made other arrangements to get home.”

“That woman is an appalling chaperone, you know.”

“I know. Aren’t you glad?”

He grinned at her, left the box and headed down the main staircase to find someone to call his carriage. Caught up in the teeming masses of people exiting, he found himself outside, fighting to re-enter the theater.

“Sokorvsky.”

He half-turned to find Lord Minshom in front of him. He tried to avoid him but was ruthlessly pushed back against the wall of the ornate stone building and then shoved into a narrow passage to the side. His shoulder hit the wall, and he lost his balance and fell to his knees.

“Aren’t you pleased to see me?” Minshom murmured. He wore black and white, and his teeth gleamed in the darkness.

“No.” Anthony flinched as Minshom kept him down on his knees in the filth of the gutter.

“Already half erect, I see. I didn’t know you were capable of getting it up for a woman.”

“That is none of your damned business.” Anthony tried to rise, but Minshom tightened his hand in his hair and shoved Anthony’s face against his groin.

SIMPLY WICKED / 49

“My, you are eager tonight. Is that because you’ve been denying your true nature, playing the gentleman, bestowing nothing more than a chaste kiss on the lips of your beloved?”

His grip tightened. Between the combined scent of Minshom’s arousal and the hard press of the man’s cock against his tightly closed lips, Anthony couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t you want to suck me off?”

Anthony used all his strength to pull away and stand up-right. He rubbed his hand over his mouth before looking at Minshom.

“I don’t . . . want this.”

“You want it all right. You’re primed and ready to go.” Minshom flicked Anthony’s pantaloons and then dragged his nails over the taut white satin, plucked at the wetness already seeping through. “You’ll be coming before you know it, pleading with me to give you more.”

“No.”

“No?” Minshom brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them, brushed them across Anthony’s tightly compressed lips.

“This doesn’t taste like no.”

Anthony swallowed hard against a desire to sink to his knees and take what the other man offered and have done with it. He readjusted his cock with shaking fingers and forced his erection to conform to the tight-fitting garment. Why was he trying to pretend he could ever have a successful relationship with a woman with his perverted sexual needs?

“I want to change. This doesn’t help.”

Surprise flickered in Minshom’s cold gaze. “Why should I help you? I want you right where you belong, servicing me.”

“I don’t believe that’s where I belong.”

“You think you’ll do better in a woman’s bed?”

Anthony forced himself to meet Lord Minshom’s hard blue eyes. “Surely I need to find that out for myself?”

50 /
Kate Pearce

He winced as Minshom grabbed the back of his head and drew him close, kissed him hard on the mouth.

“I’m not giving you up. And when you do crawl back to me, I’ll make you pay for your disobedience.”

A shiver of anticipation coiled through Anthony’s gut, and he pushed it away, hoping Minshom hadn’t seen the flare of excitement in his eyes.

Laughing softly, Minshom stepped back. “You can’t hide your true nature, Sokorvsky. You need the pain to find the pleasure. That’s just the way you are made. Have a good evening.”

Anthony leaned against the wall until Minshom disappeared and then found his way back into the theater. God, his legs were shaking and his cock throbbed with every labored breath he took. He’d seen men who couldn’t do without alcohol or opium continue to feed their cravings even though they knew it would kill them. Was he doomed to crave sexual domination for the rest of his life?

He paused at the bottom of the stairs. How the hell could he go back to Marguerite in this state? He licked his lips and tasted a hint of his own pre-cum and Lord Minshom’s spicy cologne.

He couldn’t help but contrast it to the softness of Marguerite’s response to him, the warm welcome of her mouth.

He remembered to check that Mrs. Jones had departed, tip the footman stationed in the anteroom and retrieve their cloaks before he had to face Marguerite. To his relief, she sat patiently in her chair, her elbow propped on the edge of the box, hand under her chin. Her smile was full of welcome and made him feel even worse.

“Are you all right, my lord?” Her gaze fell to his legs. “Did you fall? Your pantaloons are dirty.”

He managed a nod as he handed her into her cloak. “In my eagerness to get back to you, I slipped on the steps.”

“You didn’t need to worry. I knew you’d come back.” She SIMPLY WICKED / 51

chuckled. “I hardly think you’re the kind of man who would leave a lady stranded.”

God, he couldn’t even smile at that. He’d been so close to following Lord Minshom farther into the shadows behind the theater and giving him what he’d wanted.

Marguerite’s amusement faded, and she touched his arm.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m sure.” He kept his cloak draped over his arm, hoping it concealed the bulge of his still-hard cock, and offered her his hand. “Shall we go? The carriage should be there by now.”

He opened the door and led her into the anteroom just as the large party from the box beside them decided to exit too.

Overwhelmed by their numbers, he was pushed back against Marguerite, his large body pressing her into the wall. He almost came as his shaft jerked against her stomach and pulled away as quickly as he could. He didn’t dare apologize in case she hadn’t noticed, and he hardly wanted to draw attention to his cock.

She was quiet on the way down the stairs, even quieter as he settled her in the carriage. He glanced at her closed expression.

Damnation, had he offended her? And how on earth was he going to explain such a lapse of good manners?

The carriage moved off, and he braced himself against the side, keeping his cloak draped over the lower half of his body, although it might well be too late for such modesty.

Marguerite met his gaze, her blue eyes clear. “It’s all right. I have been married, you know.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She flicked a gaze down at his groin. “I understand how men can become inconveniently aroused.”

“You do?”

“And as I caused this, when we kissed, perhaps I should be the one to do something about it.”

Anthony sat forward just as she sank to her knees in front of him. “Marguerite, you didn’t . . . God, what are you doing?”

52 /
Kate Pearce

Her hands worked at the straining buttons of his pantaloons until his cock was revealed in all its thick, heated glory. She looked up at him, the slight color on her cheeks the only sign of any lack of composure.

“I’m going to suck your cock.”

“What?”

“Surely you’ve had that done to you before?”

“Yes, but . . .”
not by a woman.

“My husband showed me how to do it. He assured me that most men like it. Is that not true?”