A Marriage Most Scandalous (Scandalous Ballroom Encounters Book 2) (9 page)

“When I look at you, I feel desire,” she murmured, pulling away. “It burns deep in my belly, and between my legs, and I know that nothing will satisfy it but you.”

He trembled in her arms, his muscles tensing with unreleased strain. She shivered in response, all too aware of the power and virility locked away inside. All that remained was for him to unleash it without restraint.

“Let me be the one you explore your passions with,” she whispered. “Let me fulfill your deepest desires.”

“I want to,” he replied, hands coming up to span her waist. “So very badly. I don’t want to hold back from you anymore, but it’s so bloody difficult.”

“Then we will help you,” she said, determination filling her. They’d come so far already; she refused to let up until Sheridan had put his father’s grotesque philosophies and teachings behind him. “One step at a time. Isn’t that right, Petra?”

She glanced at her ally, and found determination in her eyes, as well.

“We begin right now,” Petra declared, a mischievous glint filling her dark eyes.

Sheridan tensed. “Now?”

Petra extended one hand to Cecily. She accepted it, and let the other woman assist her onto the floor of the carriage. Joining her, she knelt and stared up at Sheridan expectantly.

“Yes,” she replied, “now. Open your breeches, my lord.”

His jaw ticked spasmodically, but curiosity and desire flashed in his eyes.

“Why?” he asked, even as he complied with her wishes.

“I am going to help you associate your sexual desires with your wife. We are going to undo your father’s teaching by reconditioning you to see your wife as your sole source of pleasure and desire, no matter how salacious that desire might be.”

Sheridan’s cock sprang free of his breeches, standing proudly in his lap. Cecily’s nipples tightened at the sight, remembering the feel of him inside of her. Yet, there remained one way she hadn’t experienced him. Her mouth watered for a taste.

“I am at your disposal,” he replied, his voice deep and husky.

She recognized the tones of desire beneath his usual bass.

“Good,” Petra replied, smiling. “Your first lesson … allowing your wife the intimacy of taking your cock into her mouth.”

His lips parted and his breath hitched. His cock seemed to swell even more in response to her words.

Petra turned to face her. “Would you like that, love?”

She nodded, her own lips parted as the need to fulfill that particular fantasy overcame all else.

“Yes,” she replied. “But … I don’t know how. Will you teach me?”

The Madame’s lips curved into a sensual smile, and she reached up to cup the back of her neck. Petra’s lips hovered inches from hers, causing her to tremble with anticipation.

“Nothing would bring me more pleasure,” she replied, before capturing her mouth in a fiery kiss.

Chapter Eleven

 

Sheridan’s cock pulsated with need—becoming further exacerbated by the sight of the two beautiful women kneeling before him. He gripped the randy organ, applying pressure to relieve the ache. It hardly aided him, when all he wanted was Cecily’s plump lips wrapped around his rod. Or perhaps Petra’s. He shivered at the thought of both tongues running up and down his shaft.

His breath hitched, then released on a low groan. The surface of his skin tingled, and he felt as if one touch from either of them would unman him, causing him to finish before they’d even begun.

His throat constricted as he watched them kiss, their writhing tongues meeting between parted lips. Cecily’s soft moans filled the carriage, mingling with Petra’s low murmurs of satisfaction. Her long, slender fingers gripped the front of his wife’s bodice, peeling it down to reveal her breasts. The sweet, pink nipples puckered and hardened when she pinched them, rolling them between her fingers and making Cecily shudder.

Leaning forward, he did the same to Petra, revealing her tits and palming them. Her nipples hardened, rasping his palms as he kneaded the pliant flesh.

Breaking their kiss, Petra turned to him with a cat-like smile.

“The head of a man’s cock is quite sensitive,” she said, turning back to Cecily. She took his cock in one hand, holding it firmly and causing it to throb in response.

He gasped, thrusting into her hand, desperate for the friction he needed to ease the ache in his groin. She obliged him, giving him a few firm strokes and running her thumb over the slit, drawing a bead of moisture. She smeared it over him, stroking his shaft and teasing his head with her thumb.

His wife looked on, her eyes wide with curiosity as Petra continued stroking him. Leaning forward, she circled him with her tongue, then wrapped her lips around the head and suckled gently.

His hips bucked as he bit back a moan and gripped the carriage seat. He thrust toward her mouth, seeking entrance.

“Ah-ah, my lord,” she admonished as she let him go. “It’s your wife who desires to take you into her mouth.”

She turned to Cecily, using her free hand to give one of her nipples a pinch.

“Don’t you, love?”

She nodded, her answer coming out on a breathless sigh. “Yes.”

Petra maneuvered herself behind Cecily. Remaining on her knees, she spread her thighs and settled Cecily between them, resting her back against her front. She turned her face inward and planted a kiss on Cecily’s jaw.

“Look at your husband,” she murmured. “Touch him.”

His wife obeyed, reaching out with a tentative hand. Her fingers brushed his shaft, then stroked downward toward his bollocks. He slouched on the carriage seat, leaning back to watch her explore him. After a few more timid touches, she grew bold, wrapping her fingers around his cock the way Petra had done. Her touch branded him, sending a fresh surge of desire through him. If at all possible, his erection swelled even further, eager for more.

“You might be on your knees before him,” Petra whispered, reaching up to cup Cecily’s breasts from behind. “But your position is one of power. From here, you can command his body. You can claim him in a way you never have before, and bend him to your will. He experiences only the pleasure you choose to give him.”

You’ve bloody well got that right!

Just now, he’d have given Cecily anything she asked, if only she’d wrap those sweet lips around him.

As she stroked him, gently at first, but then with increasing boldness, Petra glanced up and locked gazes with him.

“Look at your wife, my lord,” she said. Reaching up, she cupped Cecily’s face, tilting it back for better access to her neck. She lowered her head and placed a row of open-mouth kisses along the side of her neck, causing her strokes to slow and her breasts to heave as she shivered in response.

Steadily teasing his wife’s nipples, Petra continued, her stare never wavering from his.

“Isn’t she beautiful? Such plump, inviting lips.” Her thumb stroked along the line of Cecily’s jaw, then arced up, caressing her lips.

“Yes,” he rasped, his gaze fixated on that thumb as she parted Cecily’s lips.

His wife opened her mouth and her pink tongue darted out, stroking the pad of Petra’s thumb. His hips surged again and he ground his cock into the tight fist clenching him.

“You want her lips on your hard cock, don’t you?” Petra murmured.

“Yes,” he repeated.

“Then let her,” she insisted. “There is no greater pleasure to be known than between two lovers whose hearts are also engaged. She is your wife. Let her become a vessel for your pleasure, and in turn, you become one for hers. She wants this—don’t you, my love? Look at your husband and tell him what you want.”

Cecily’s heavy-lidded eyes met his.

“I want to taste you, Sherry,” she said, voice deep and husky with desire. “I want to know the feel of you on my lips, against my tongue. I want to pleasure you with my mouth until you come.”

He closed his eyes, trembling at the promise of a fantasy he’d had so many times.

A man’s wife must kiss his children with her mouth; it must remain uncorrupted. If you want your cock sucked, find a whore.

The viscount’s voice interrupted, sharp and sudden, nearly robbing him of his pleasure. He grit his teeth and opened his eyes, gazing down at the woman on his knees before her. He’d always seen her as an innocent, a prim little English rose who needed his devotion and care. Yet, Petra had peeled back her girlish layers to reveal the woman within. A woman he had always longed to make love to, to experience in every way he could think of.

“Forget what you have been taught,” Petra insisted, seeming to sense his drifting thoughts. “If your wife is willing—desiring, even—of this moment, will you deny her?”

He gazed from her to Cecily, his heart gripped by the sight of her wide, pleading eyes. She truly wanted this, wanted him, in a way he’d always dreamed of her wanting him. He would be mad to refuse her.

Pushing the viscount and his grating voice aside, he reached down and gripped Cecily’s hair in a gentle but firm grip.

“No,” he answered, pulling her closer.

The head of his cock brushed the seam of her lips, and she parted them. Her darting tongue found the slit of his head and probed it, causing his stomach to clench and his balls to contract. He gasped, his fingers tightening in her hair.

Petra murmured her approval.

“You’re a natural,” she said to Cecily. “Open your mouth, sweetheart. Let him in.”

She obeyed, opening wide to accommodate his girth. He thrust slowly, inching his way into the cavern of her mouth. She brought her tongue up to stroke the underside of his cock, and her mouth closed around him once he’d gone as far as he dared. The urge to push in to the back of her throat came at him strong, but he wanted her to become accustomed to the act of fellatio first. For the moment, he concentrated on her, on watching his wife make love to him with her mouth.

“That’s it,” Petra encouraged, stroking Cecily’s hair affectionately. “Take him in and out, just as you would if he were inside your cunt.”

She obeyed, pulling back, her cheeks caving as she suckled, then coming forward to envelop him all over again. Her first few attempts felt tentative, a tender exploration. His guttural groans at each pass of her lips over his shaft seemed to embolden her, and before long, she increased her pace, encouraged by his hand leading her through the hair gripped in his fist. His head fell back against the carriage seat and he closed his eyes, losing himself in the fiery sensations she created using only her mouth.

A hand closed around his cock, stroking just beneath Cecily’s suckling mouth. He recognized the feel of the slender fingers—Petra. Thrusting against the hand and hot, wet mouth, he moaned, his fingernails digging into the seat’s cushion as he held on for dear life. As one, they increased their pace even more, driving him closer and closer to the brink.

Swirls of color danced on his closed eyelids as Petra’s tongue skimmed the inside of his thigh, before tickling his bollocks.

“Yes,” he hissed, his hips moving of their own volition, urging his bulging sack closer to Petra’s open mouth.

Her tongue circled them, then her lips drew him in. She suckled while caressing his bollocks with her tongue, increasing his pleasure tenfold.

“Christ, that feels so damn good,” he moaned, his voice grown hoarse.

Cecily released his cock from her mouth, joining Petra’s tongue with her own.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, feeling inches away from death. Surely, no man could endure pleasure like this and survive it.

Taking his own cock in hand, he stroked, urging himself on toward climax as the two hot, wet mouths caressed and suckled his sac.

“Ah … Christ … I’m going to come,” he muttered, his fist tightening as he felt the familiar beginnings of a climax.

Cecily’s tongue stroked over the base of his shaft, then scorched a path over his knuckles toward his swollen head. Snatching his hand away, she enveloped him, sucking him until he shuddered and surrendered to release. Thrusting up one last time, he moaned as his seed spurted from him and into her mouth.

Licking her lips, she pulled away and turned her face up to give him a bright smile.

“Come here,” he murmured, already reaching down to pull her up into his lap. He set her across his thighs, then wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “That was …”

“Marvelous,” she finished for him. “I quite enjoyed it. Did you?”

He laughed, deftly adjusting the neckline of her bodice, even though he was loathe to cover her lovely tits. The driver would stop soon to change horses, leaving them time for little else. The evening would be soon enough for him to finish what they’d started. He hadn’t had nearly enough of her … or their feisty little mistress.

“Darling, if I’d enjoyed any more, I might have died.”

She grinned, nestling against his shoulder and closing his eyes. “At least, you would have died happy.”

Across from them, Petra had settled back on the seat, every hair and bit of clothing in place. She gave him a smug smirk, her eyes twinkling with promise.

“A lesson well-learned,” she declared, folding her hands in her lap. “Well done, my lord. I can hardly wait for the next lesson.”

Smiling back at her, Sheridan found he could hardly wait, either.

 

 

 

 

In the fortnight that followed, Cecily and Sheridan forgot all about the scandal they’d left behind in London. Nothing else mattered here on the seaside, where they experienced a second honeymoon of sorts that proved far more satisfying than the first. Aside from the time spent together, they now had passion and desire to fill their days and nights—a vital component missing from their first wedding trip.

Petra’s presence heightened the excitement, and with her help, Sheridan transformed day by day. Gone was the polite, amiable man who used charm as a shield. In his place emerged a confident bloke, simmering with sexuality just beneath the surface. It began to show, making itself plain in the swagger of his walk, the overgrown length of his hair, the rakish scrape of stubble he’d allowed to sprout along his jaw.

How had she never seen him for what he really was? A man of voracious appetite, who never seemed happier than after a good bout of lovemaking? He seemed contented here, freed from the constraints of society and his father’s so-called teachings.

Together, she and Petra had purged him of those idiotic notions one by one. When he’d told them that his father had taught him that only whores allowed a man to take a woman while she was on her hands and knees, Petra would hear none of it. She’d reminded him yet again that nothing was forbidden between them, and that if Cecily desired it, he should oblige her. A lesson he was taught again and again—when he took her roughly from behind as he had in the brothel; as he lay her on her back and fucked the cleft between her breasts; as he allowed her to straddle and ride him as he had the night in the library.

Affection came easier to him now, and hardly an hour passed before he would kiss her, touch her, reminding her in the simplest ways that he desired her. A world of pleasure unparalleled became open to her, and Cecily learned she had quite an appetite for sex herself. She grew surprised to discover she enjoyed both Sheridan and Petra equally, and that she would not be averse to continuing their liaison. While she reveled in the time she had with Sheridan alone, nothing could quite compare to the taste of Petra on her tongue as Sheridan fucked her, or the feel of Petra’s fingers pumping in and out of her cunt as she sucked her husband’s cock. Four hands on her at once, touching, probing, coaxing her to one exquisite ending after the other.

Her husband appeared as attracted to the other woman as she, and before long, the two became allies into seducing her into their bed at every opportunity. The mysterious Madame readily obliged them, fulfilling both their desires with a deftness that never ceased to amaze, despite her reputation.

Their discretion served them well here. The household staff had been told Petra was a cousin of Cecily’s accompanying them on holiday. Since they kept their salacious activities confined to the bedroom behind closed doors, no one ever knew what they’d been up to.

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