the last ball of the Season, when Gabriel said to her.
“Perhaps you might pay a visit to my chambers one of these nights,” he said in a teasing tone. They’d made love earlier and then dozed for a while, neither of them falling asleep. Drusilla loved these times—usually after a vigorous session in bed—when they talked, the subjects ranging from serious and emotional to playful and light.
A single candle burned low in its socket, allowing her to see the outlines of his face. His full lips were curved into a smile, his expression almost . . . loving.
“Why should I go to your room, Mr. Marlington? What would I find there?”
“You might find me.”
“Ah, I see. Would I like what I found?”
“I would make sure you did.” He traced a line down her jaw and across to her lips, outlining them with his finger.
She caught his digit between her teeth and held it there, lightly touching the sensitive pad with the tip of her tongue.
He groaned. “Again? You will break your poor husband, Mrs. Marlington.” He took her hand and pressed it against his tumescent organ, giving a soft grunt of pleasure as her fingers closed around him and her hand began to move on its own. He pushed the covers down, exposing his male beauty to her greedy eyes. The sight of her hand wrapped around him, his muscles taut and flexing, made her own body tighten.
“Mmm, that feels so good.” His hips pulsed against her hand. “Harder—grip me tighter.”
“It doesn’t hurt?” she asked, daunted by the thought of squeezing him any harder than she was.
“It hurts in a good way.” He spread his thighs, and his hand went between them. She stared in fascination as he tugged at the skin of his testicles. They locked eyes, and he thrust into her hand with increasing savagery.
“Drusilla,” he said, his tone urgent.
It was almost impossible to tear her gaze away from the hard, ruddy length of him and the increasing slickness in her hand.
“Yes?”
“I want you to suck me.”
Her hand stuttered and she gasped.
He chuckled and settled his hand over hers, resuming the stroking motion. “Should I apologize? I daresay that is not something one says to a well-bred lady.”
Drusilla’s mind rebelled against his words even as they sent spirals of heat to her sex. What he meant was that it was the type of thing he could ask of a mistress.
How could the thought of him asking another woman to do that to him be both arousing and infuriating? But there was no denying it was. One of those beautiful actresses she’d seen—had they—
His hips stilled and a notch formed between his eyes. “I am sorry—that was—”
“Is it something a man would say to his m-mistress?”
He hesitated, his lips slightly parted, his chest seeming to freeze in midbreath. And then he nodded, his eyes heavy, his hips resuming their thrusting, the head of his penis slick, hard, insistent. “Be my mistress, Drusilla.”
She shuddered at his words—at the way he devoured her with his eyes.
Drusilla opened her mouth and was surprised that she could force words out of it. “Will you tell me how to do it?”
He spread his thighs wider in answer and released her hand. “Come. Kneel between my legs.”
She scrambled up onto her knees.
“Come closer and lean back; sit on your heels so I can reach you.”
She complied, and he stroked her jaw with a light touch, his middle finger drifting over her lips, back and forth, back and forth. “Take my finger into your mouth.”
She parted her lips, and he pushed inside. Her eyes widened when she realized the musky scent on his hand was hers—from the pleasure he’d given her during their earlier lovemaking.
He gave her a wicked grin. “You taste good, do you not?”
Her face flushed and, luckily, he didn’t seem to expect an answer.
“Cradle my finger with your tongue. Yes, that’s good,” he praised, wincing slightly. “Be careful with your teeth, both top and bottom.” He began to move his finger in and out, slowly. “Caress me with your lips and tongue, yes, suck me.” His expression was sensual and eager. “Your mouth is so unspeakably soft and hot. I cannot wait to fill it.”
Blood pounded in her ears at his words, his blissful expression, and his gently pulsing hips. He’d taken himself in hand again. The sight was so erotic it sent excruciating pleasure rippling through her body, the sensations pooling and swirling in her lower belly—in her sex. Was it possible