Page 78 of Counting on a Countess
Tamsyn felt a particular kinship with Amina. Both of them were women managing illicit operations, and both made sure that anyone they worked with adhered to strict rules.
“I agree,” Tamsyn said.
Kit handed Amina a pouch jingling with coins. The manager curled her fingers around it and curtsied.
“Please enter,” Amina said warmly. “The night is yours.” She swept an arm toward a corridor.
“Ready?” Kit whispered to her.
Excitement rising, she inhaled, then nodded. At her signal, he guided her down the hallway. Voices and music grew louder as they neared a set of open double doors. She and Kit stopped on the threshold.
For a moment, Tamsyn forgot the mechanics of breathing.
Masked people were entangled in groups of two or three on low couches scattered throughout the chamber. Glimpses of naked flesh gleamed in the low candlelight. In the corners of the room, men and women touched and caressed each other, heedless of anyone who might be watching. A man pressed his lips to a woman’s bared breasts. Two men embraced, kissing as their hips rubbed together.
Sex happened everywhere. Her gaze alighted from one scene of unbridled eroticism to another.
Moans and sighs floated on the music, and a warm, heavy musk scented the air with a human, sensual smell. Meanwhile, masked servants circulated with trays offering wine and cakes, as calm and disinterested as though they attended to the guests of an afternoon luncheon.
Two women reclined on pillows heaped on the floor. They kissed deeply, and one fondled the breasts of the other. Seeing them, Tamsyn thought of Samantha Markham and Lucy Temple. The two women lived together in Newcombe and had done so since before Tamsyn had been born. No one ever questioned why the women hadn’t married. Now Tamsyn knew why.
She fought to suppress a gasp when she saw a woman eagerly sucking on a man’s upright penis. The man sat in a chair, his breeches open just enough for the lady to take his member in her mouth and hand as she knelt between his legs. Even though they wore masks, their blissful expressions were evident.
“A place for discovery, yes?” Kit murmured.
“Women talk,” she answered quietly. “They say things to each other about what goes on in the bedroom. I’dheardabout... that. But I didn’t know people actually did it.”
She tore her gaze from the couple, only to land on a woman in coarse, worn garments reclining on a sofa with her skirts up around her waist. A man in fine evening clothing eagerly licked and kissed the woman’s bared quim.
“What of that?” Kit asked Tamsyn, his gaze following hers. “Does that intrigue or disgust you?”
The woman’s head was tipped back and her mouth was open as she moaned her pleasure. Tamsyn had never seen anyone experience such ecstasy before. The man who lapped at her had his eyes shut as he bent to his task.
Tamsyn stroked her fingers along the neckline of her gown. Her flesh felt feverish and tight, and her own quim heated as she observed the lovers.
She licked her dry lips. “I’d attempt that.” She glanced at Kit, who watched her with heavy-lidded eyes.
“Good,” he answered, his voice deep. “Because it’s something I enjoy doing.”
She had no answer for him, but her mind spun to images of his head between her legs, lapping eagerly at her most private place. She felt a liquid warmth gathering between her thighs while the tips of her breasts became acutely sensitive as they rubbed against her chemise.
Glancing away, she caught sight of Amina on the other side of the room. The manager surveyed her club, but as she did so, a strapping dark-haired man approached her. Though he wore a mask, Amina seemed to know him. Her smile widened as he neared. The man stood very close to her, their bodies almost touching. Even at a distance, Tamsyn sensed the attraction between the two. Yet neither moved to touch the other.
Did Amina permit herself to take a lover from amongst her guests? The man was dressed expensively. Was he a gentleman?
“There is more to explore,” Kit noted.
Tamsyn’s curiosity about the mysterious Amina evaporated when Kit led her into another chamber. This one resembled a ballroom, with an empty stage set up at one end and couples dancing languorously in the middle of the room. The fact that the dancers were essentially embracing barely registered in Tamsyn’s mind—not when she beheld a partially dressed woman pressed up against a wall, with a man holding her up, vigorously having sex with her. The woman held tightly to her lover’s shoulders, and her legs were wrapped around his waist. Their sounds of pleasure mingled with the melody supplied by nearby musicians.
“Oh,” Tamsyn said on an exhale. “I didn’t know that was possible. To make love standing up.”
“One can couple many places,” Kit answered. His voice continued to get deeper, and his arm beneath Tamsyn’s hand was iron hard. “Especially if you are motivated. Lying down is just the beginning. You can stand, or kneel, or one person lies down while the other stands. Any number of combinations.”
He moved in front of her. His pupils were large and dark as he stared at her with undisguised desire.
“You see, love,” he murmured, “people have sex because it’s what all creatures do. Because there are few pleasures as extraordinary. I want us to share that. Will you take this journey with me?”
His gaze was hot and intent, but his question didn’t make her feel pressured into doing something she wasn’t ready to do. The next step was hers to take.
