Page 51 of The Duke's Vice

His mouth rhythmically moved against her causing her hips to follow the melody he set. It was their own private dance. The heat grew within her as her hips pushed against his mouth for more friction.

He teased her with kisses before stealing her breath with tiny flicks and sucks that had her curling her toes in her shoes to stop from moaning.

She covered her mouth her hand to further aid in keeping herself quiet. Her mind quickly realized that if he kept going at his current rate she would lose the battle to keep herself quiet.

Her eyes tried to distract her mind by focusing on the actors. The music was building, a woman was singing something about lost love, or lost privilege, or something lost. Beatrice shook her head. No. She needed to concentrate. Perhaps if she focused on the performance she could stop her body from erupting.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes on the woman. She was singing about love and death. A beautiful aria that rang through the rafters. Between the woman’s voice and Graham’s tongue Beatrice was lost to a cacophony of sensations.

Her movements became more frantic as Graham’s tongue moved against her. It was as if he was also lost to the music and using it to guide his touch.

Heat bloomed across Beatrice’s body. Her hips gyrated against Graham and as one hand covered her own mouth, her other hand landed on Graham’s head, aiding him to angle his head in just a way that had her biting her hand.

She couldn’t keep quiet. How could she? Her body was being thrown into the stratosphere by this man being aided by the opera. Tension was building from deep within her, pushing against every fiber of her being.

His tongue raced along with the music, Beatrice felt herself climbing higher and higher. The woman’s voice hit the culminating high note just as Graham flicked her clit that sent Beatrice over the edge.

Her scream was drowned out by the applause from the crowd.

Beatrice’s vision blurred as she slumped back against the chair. Graham sat back on his haunches, readjusting her skirt. She watched as he, ever so nonchalantly, sat back in his chair, as if he didn’t just kiss her in the most intimate of places in a theater that held over two thousand people.

“You should hurry. The house lights will be on soon and I doubt I’ll be able to hide you. Unless I was correct earlier in thinking you want an audience.”

His comment woke her from her haze.

She looked to the stage to see the curtain starting to close from the wings. Beatrice looked to Graham who nodded to the back curtain and door. “Go.”

Her body wanted to stay but the thought of her mother and the whole opera house catching her in the Duke’s box unchaperoned was too much of a motivator to leave.

She hurried out of the box, down the hallway and raced down the steps to the lobby.

When she got to the bottom she found a bench to sit on. Just as she sat down she heard the doors open and the lobby was filled with people within minutes.

“Beatrice!” Charlotte’s voice carried over the din of people. “You look just as flushed as before. Perhaps we should go?” Charlotte brought a hand up to her daughter’s forehead. “You feel a bit warm as well. Let me find an attendant to call for the carriage..”

Beatrice couldn’t have been more relieved. She didn’t think she would be able to form words after what she just experienced. She was craving some time to herself to process what she just lived through.

“Ah, Your Grace, how nice it is to see you and Lady Beatrice tonight.”

Beatrice’s legs gave out at the sound of his voice, causing her mother to reach for her in alarm. “Beatrice! Are you all right? Please sit!” Charlotte’s voice rang out, causing other to look on in curiosity.

“Here, let me help.” Graham’s hand touched Beatrice’s arms causing her body to ignite once more. Her eyes widened as she looked up to find his displaying concern with a hint of humor.

“Your Grace,” Charlotte dipped her head. “Thank you for your help. As you can see we won’t be staying. It seems Beatrice is unwell.”

Beatrice inwardly cringed. If there was one thing she learned about Graham during her time with him was that he never shied away from a conversation that could embarrass her.

“Oh that’s unfortunate.”

Beatrice couldn’t help but notice the attention they were drawing. “I’m fine. Really. But we should get going, Mama.” She glanced quickly at Graham as she forced her legs to hold her as she stood. “Thank you, Your Grace, for your help.”

Graham’s eyes lit with a devilish grin.

“You know, now that I look at her, she does seem flush. It was as if she were just running.”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes toward the Duke. “I wasn’t running, Your Grace.” She lifted a shoulder. “I was simply just sitting here.”

Graham’s smile widened and she groaned. “Just sitting you say? How odd that just sitting could make your body react as if it were just running a race. I agree with your mother, you should go home and be taken to bed at once.” He purred.

---