Making of a Scandal - Victoria Vale Page 0,17

Calliope Barrington.”

“Call me Dominick,” he urged, taking hold of her hand and giving her a tug. “Or Nick, if you prefer. Really, you can call me whatever you like while I’m buried inside you.”

She gasped, pressing her hands against his chest and arching against him. That only served to press her pelvis tighter against his. They both stiffened, his cock thickening against her belly, and her entire body going rigid.

“Actually … that is what I wanted to talk to you about, Mr. Burke. My request is a rather singular one, I’m afraid, and I want you to be aware of what I require.”

A shy woman. No matter … he’d broken down the defenses of his fair share of reluctant women.

“Oh, I think I know exactly what you need,” he murmured, his lips caressing a path down her cheek.

She shivered in his hold, squirming as his mouth brushed the shell of her ear. She smelled of vanilla and roses, a combination he never realized could be so erotic. His cock certainly seemed to like it, throbbing and pulsing as he dragged the heady scent in through his nostrils.

“You need a man who will pleasure you in a way no man ever has,” he whispered, running his hands down until his palms were filled with her buttocks. “Someone who will lick this delectable body from neck to toes until you beg him to take you. Someone who can handle the little wildcat you turn into once he’s lured you into bed. Someone who can fuck you so thoroughly you forget your own name.”

“Mr. Burke!” she squealed when he squeezed the firm cheeks of her arse, pulling her tighter against him.

He chuckled, seeking out her delectable mouth for a kiss. “I’ve never been called Mr. Burke in bed before, but I think I rather like it.”

His mouth brushed hers, but before he could turn it into a proper kiss, pain exploded along the side of his face. He staggered back, reeling from the force of what he was certain must have been a well-timed slap.

His right ear was ringing, and his jaw tingled from the residual heat of the blow. Pressing a hand to his cheek, he stared at her in wide-eyed shock.

The chit was shaking from head to toe, lips pressed tight, jaw clenched. It wasn’t desire he saw making her eyes simmer like hot coals—it was anger.

“Mr. Burke, you are clearly mistaken about the nature of my need. Did Mr. Sterling not explain it to you?”

Nick winced, remembering that Benedict had been trying to tell him something about their new client. He’d hardly thought he would need to be primed before coming into this room. Any woman coming to the Gentleman Courtesans looking for Nick must be aware of what he was known for: a filthy tongue and the thin veneer of a gentleman laid over the truth of his licentiousness and lack of scruples. Benedict had a penchant for matching clients with the perfect courtesan after interviewing them to assess their needs. He’d never paired Nick with a woman who didn’t know exactly what she was getting herself into with him.

Apparently, this was not the case. Instead of meeting an experienced woman looking for someone to warm her cold bed, Nick found himself faced with a woman who was outraged—by his deeds or by his words, he wasn’t completely sure.

He’d been too drunk and caught off-guard by his startling and sudden attraction to her. But, he could see it clearly now. Benedict had assigned him the sort of client he was never entrusted with.

A virgin. Calliope Barrington was clearly a wide-eyed, inexperienced, untouched virgin.

He was suddenly stone cold sober, her slap having knocked some sense into him. He was so drunk he hadn’t been able to read the signs clearly marking her as a thorny rosebush. A beautiful rose bush, but one with sharp spines along her stems nonetheless.

“Erm … no, actually. Mr. Sterling did not explain it to me,” he replied, rubbing at his watering eye. “Truthfully, I didn’t think he needed to. In my line of business there’s only one reason a woman comes here to meet a man like me.”

She tilted her chin at a defiant angle.

“It isn’t a courtesan I am after, per se.”

“Is that so?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Then what exactly are you after, Calliope?”

“Miss Barrington, if you please. And I am not some loose woman looking for … for …”

“A good, long fuck?” he drawled, amused.

Despite now knowing her to be an

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