She met his gaze with a guileless expression. “You do intend to marry me, don’t you?”
“I have already asked to speak to your father. Surely, he knows my purpose.”
“He won’t have the slightest objection to your suit, I assure you. Papa only wishes to see me happy and will agree to whomever I choose…so long as he’s noble…and rich,” she added with a laugh. “So what harm is there in seeking a bit of pleasure while we can?”
She removed his hand from her breasts and brought it to her lips. Wetting it with her little pink tongue, she slowly drew his index finger into the hot confines of her mouth. Her other hand squeezed the bulge in his breeches.
Ludovic ground his teeth. “Methinks you don’t know what you do, Caro.”
She sucked harder, sending a jolt of molten lust to his throbbing staff and then withdrew his finger, using it to trace a sensuous path over her full mouth. She gave him a slow, evocative smile. “But that’s where you are quite wrong, my darling. I assure you, I know exactly what to do.”
Words filled with prurient promise. Bugger it all! Ludovic flung his best and most expensive silk frockcoat to the ground, spreading it wide for her to kneel upon, a willing sacrifice to the gods of pleasure. With her gaze fixed upon his face, Caroline lowered herself to her knees, plucking her gloves off with her perfect, little teeth while he manically struggled with the straining buttons holding his jutting cock at bay. Once freed, his entire hot, hard length sprang forth into her hand.
She slid it slowly up and down his shaft. “I don’t know who has the better gift, you or I.” She chortled, low and husky. Gazing into his eyes, she darted out her tongue, stroking the underside of his length, teasing him with little flicks and darts. He inhaled sharply, his cock reflexively jerking in her hand. With a look of devilment, she slowly circled his crown of smooth flesh between her parted lips.
“Dear God in heaven.” He threw his head back with a groan. His bollocks contracting in anticipation, he clasped her nape in encouragement.
“And the same heaven awaits you,” she murmured before taking him slowly and completely into her delicious and decadent mouth.
***
“There you are, my dears!” exclaimed Lady Capheaton when the two couples returned to their supper box. “I’d begun to fear you’d become lost.” Lady Capheaton gave her daughter’s escort a scathing look.
“Pray forgive us, Mama. It is entirely my fault, “Lady Caroline said. “I didn’t mean to worry you, but I was so completely engrossed by the mural of the Ruins of Palmyra. Lord DeVere has been there, you know, to nearly all the ancient ruins. When I discovered him a veritable fount, I took obscene advantage of him.” She looked to him with artless innocence, and DeVere thought he would swallow his own tongue. Fount, indeed! She nearly sucked me dry.
In one night, his proposed bride-to-be had revealed a depth of cunning and guile he never would have thought she possessed. In truth, their entire assignation had been purely her design, a revelation as equally disturbing and sublime as was the expert skill with which Caro had brought him to completion.
But while he’d initially been excited by her lively sense of adventure and even more delighted to know he wouldn’t experience a cold marriage bed, her actions now provoked myriad questions. Foremost was just how she had come by such intimate, carnal knowledge. Although Ludovic had never possessed a jealous nature, he had also never entertained the notion of sharing his future wife with another man. That one, or more, may have already preceded him was both irksome and highly disconcerting.
“We have an especial guest who has been patiently awaiting your return, Caroline.” Lady Capheaton’s voice interrupted his ruminations.
“Oh? And who might that be, Mama?” Caroline asked with barely veiled disinterest.
“Why, it’s his Grace of Beauclerc who honors us with his presence,” Lady Capheaton answered in her cloyingly sycophantic style.
A mincing, middle-aged dandy broke from conversation with Caroline’s father with a sweep of his leg and a flourishing bow. His coat cut from midnight velvet, his red-heeled shoes adorned with diamond buckles, and his elaborately-embroidered silk waistcoat could only have come from Paris. Caroline’s eyes widened in surprise while the duke’s glimmered with interest.
“Then I am honored, indeed, Your Grace.” Caroline abruptly released Ludovic’s arm to puddle her petticoats in a deep obeisance to the duke.
“My dearest Lady Caroline.” The duke took her hand as she rose, smoothing his lips over her fingers. “The reports of your pulchritude were sadly understated.” Ludovic noted a display of uneven and discolored teeth when he spoke.