"Tell me," he murmured, leaning over her and stroking his finger across her lower lip, "which kiss did you prefer? Yours? Or mine?"
Adele bit his finger, her eyes dangerous. "Tell me," she rasped, her voice low and smoky, "how much do you want me to ask for more? Since I control how far this goes?"
Malloryn held his breath.
And then he smiled.
"It would be too easy."
Leaning down, he painted a whisper of a kiss across her swollen mouth, his tongue licking hers, before he broke free and drew back.
"I believe that is check. And mate. Have a lovely afternoon, my sweet." Malloryn tugged his cravat free from the bedhead with a small smirk. "Give my regards to your modiste. This was my round."
Chapter 8
Modiste be damned.
Adele fumed as she paced the parlor of Lena's house, her skirts swishing around her ankles.
It was becoming quite apparent she was outclassed in every way that mattered when it came to seducing her husband. He had— And then she'd—
Her breath caught. Oh, God. She could still feel his hands and mouth on her skin. Still hear her soft gasps and desperate pleas.
How mortifying.
How frustrating.
How... insanely pleasurable it had all been.
"What on earth are you doing?" Lena's voice rang from the doorway. "Adele, what is it? You look beside yourself."
"I need help," she said, knotting her hands into small fists. "I couldn't think of anyone else I could turn to. Especially not with this small problem I am facing."
"Of course." Lena swept toward her, clasping her hands. "You know I will always help you. What is it you need?"
Oh, God. She hated even admitting this. "I am facing a slight marital issue I had not anticipated. I have started a war with my husband, and he's destroying me."
"What?" Lena's voice rose, her eyes flaring bronze as her protective instinct rose.
"Not like that. I need tactics. I need knowledge."
"About...?"
"How do I bring my husband to his knees? How do I—" The words choked in her throat. "You and your husband are quite familiar with each other. I see the way Will looks at you—as if you set the sun in the sky. You are his everything. You fill his whole world. And he gets this sort of look on his face whenever you smile at him, and I know what that look means. It's as if there's no one else in the room when he looks at you like that. No one else in the world. How do you do it? It's becoming quite clear my lessons in flesh rights are ineffective. I know what goes where and what Malloryn would expect of me, but I have little idea in how to truly drive him crazy."
Lena blinked. "You want to seduce the Duke of Malloryn?"
"Yes." Adele released an unsteady breath. "I want to ruin the man. I want to drive him to his wit's end and leave him a panting, pleading husk. It's your own damned fault. You set this in my head the other day and then he.... He set his first piece into play, so to speak."
Instantly, Lena's eyes flashed with heat. "This is going to require some instruction."
"You'll help me?"
"To bring Malloryn to his knees? I would enjoy nothing better. The man's insufferable."
"You don't know the half of it," she muttered.
Lena was already turning, leading her toward the door. "Come with me. This calls for champagne."
"'Allow your husband or master to insert male appendage into the feminine vessel. Discomfort can be eased by overzealous application of Madame Vexley's Liniment for Young Ladies internally, though it is advised to apply such ministrations before attending your husband, in your private toilette. A gentleman prefers discretion and one does not wish to insult him by indicating less than fervent ardor on your behalf. Apply....' Good grief." Lena smothered a laugh. "I feel like I'm reading a cooking manual. I've never had to use Madame Vexley's Liniment. And Will's the very antithesis of discretion."
"What the hell is going on?" asked a loud male voice. "I can hear the pair of you gigglin' all the way down the street. And I heard me name?"
"Will!" Lena cried, sitting up with a happy little smile. "And Alex. My two favorite men in the entire world!"
Adele nearly spilled her glass of champagne as she hastily reached forward to flip the cover of Mrs. Hathaway's Obligations in Marital and Flesh Rights closed. The illustrations and sermons within the book seemed far too prudish for what she'd thus far encountered with her husband, but Lena had been pointing out discrepancies.
Much to their mutual amusement.
The verwulfen ambassador dwarfed the room, his broad shoulders straining against the cut of his shirt. He'd discarded his coat somewhere, his necktie hanging open and the top buttons of his shirt undone. Will Carver always seemed uncomfortable in society, but in Lena's sitting room, with his son draped over his chest and shoulder, he looked seemingly at home.
Bronze eyes raked the table between them and the ruin of a platter of little teacakes, scones, jam and clotted cream. "Enjoyin' ourselves, are we?" he growled, though the edges of his mouth kicked up. "It's barely three in the afternoon."
Lena waved her champagne flute at him. "We're plotting mayhem. Mayhem requires champagne. Besides, I knew you had Alex for the afternoon."
She pressed a half dozen kisses over Alex's chubby cheeks, and the baby immediately reached for her.
"Who's the recipient of said mayhem?" Will asked, trying not to drop the lad.
"My husband," Adele said, pointing her empty champagne flute at him. "You're a man. Can I ask you a question?"
Will grimaced. "I ain't gettin' involved in any marital disputes. Especially not Malloryn's."
"You know him!" Adele was delighted. Or perhaps that was the four glasses of champagne she'd consumed.
"I've had that pleasure."
"So has Adele," Lena snickered.
Will clenched his eyes shut and then tilted his face upwards, as if praying for divine intervention.
"Malloryn made a deal with Adele," Lena continued. "He would set his mistress aside, on the grounds that Adele would provide an he—"