Making of a Scandal - Victoria Vale Page 0,94

were beginning to draw the eyes of others.

“Of course,” Martin replied with a pained grimace. “But, I would like the chance to plead my case, if you would only hear me out.”

“Perhaps in the morning,” she hedged, certain there was nothing he could say to change her mind but feeling as if she owed him at least that much. “For now, please excuse me.”

Hours later, Calliope looked up from her lap to find a dark figure striding toward her through the garden. Her belly fluttered as she shot to her feet. Even with the darkness shadowing his face, she recognized Dominick—his height and loose-limbed gait making it difficult to mistake him for anyone else.

He quickened his pace at the sight of her, moonlight illuminating him for a split second before he was upon her. Before she could blink, he had her drawn against him, head bent to kiss her. She received him with relish, finding that even after their interlude this morning, she couldn’t seem to get enough. His kiss alone proved addicting, the taste of him wild and heady.

They drew apart, Dominick releasing a little laugh at the dazed look she gave him.

“I missed you, goddess.”

“We’ve been in the same room for most of the evening.”

“Yes, but I had to pretend I hadn’t had my fingers between your legs, or your hand wrapped around my cock only hours ago.”

Her face flushed, and she buried it in his chest with a giggle. “I say thank God for your ability to feign indifference.”

Tilting her chin up, he smiled. “Oh, I doubt anyone thinks I’m indifferent. If they had paid attention, they would have seen me devouring you with my eyes. Have I told you how beguiling you look in that gown? That shade of yellow becomes you.”

“It is called jonquil,” she said as he began kissing her neck.

“Whatever it is called, you are ravishing in it. Though, as well as you looked, I couldn’t help pondering all through dinner how much better that gown would have appeared on the floor.”

She bit her lip to muffle a squeal when he bit the juncture where her neck met her shoulder.

“Dominick … we met so we could talk.”

“You can talk all you like,” he mumbled, palming her breasts while kissing his way down her chest. “You can tell me all the filthy things you want me to do to you. You can tell me how good it feels when I lick your nipples, or kiss my way down to your sweet cunny. I only got the barest taste earlier, and I’m ready for more.”

Warmth sparked between her legs, her nipples hardening in response to his touch. She wanted to melt into him and surrender, letting him fulfill the promise of his shocking words. But, there was still the pressing matter of Martin to discuss and she couldn’t lose her head until they had addressed it.

“Dominick … please …”

“That’s a start,” he rasped, dipping his tongue past the neckline of her gown as if searching for her nipple. He found the edge of it, making her gasp. “Perhaps you might follow that with ‘more’ and ‘don’t stop.’”

Pushing against his chest, she burst out laughing. “Are you able to stop thinking of debauching me for a few minutes, or do I need to slap you again?”

His grin was downright wicked as he drew back to look at her. “I might actually like that.”

With another fit of snorting laughs, she drew away from him. “Come sit with me. We should talk and then you may continue your seduction.”

He followed her to the bench, sinking down after adjusting the bulge at the front of his breeches. “You had better not renege on your promise. It is the only thing holding me at bay right now.”

“Dominick, this is serious. Tomorrow, Martin intends to speak with my father. I have no reason to expect Papa to reject his suit.”

Dominick was instantly sober. “I see. I take it a formal proposal will follow.”

“He has said as much, yes.”

Dominick nodded, throat working as he swallowed and gazed down at his hands. “Callie, I cannot tell you what you should do, nor would I blame you if you accept Lewes. He is a prime candidate for marriage and has more to recommend him than I do … at least, for now.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He met her gaze, his expression becoming mournful. “As a third son, I am not set to inherit a title, obviously. For the past few years, I’ve lived

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