Page 41 of Making of a Scandal
That was it. Calliope fucking him with wild abandon, those long tendrils of inky black hair falling over her shoulders in shimmering coils that shifted aside now and then to allow him a peek at succulent nipples.
Nick panted and grunted, unable to stop his release as it slammed into him with a force that took his breath away. He released a low groan as his cock spurted hot streams of his mettle over his hand and across his belly. He pumped his shaft through every spasm, wringing himself dry as he imagined Calliope in the moment of her crisis, lips parted and eyes glazed.
He went slack, temporarily sated. Taking deep, harsh breaths, he tried to untangle himself from his torrid fantasy. Try as he might, he could not make it stop, his mind refusing to let go even now that his cock had been satisfied.
He hadn’t needed to resort to self-pleasure in years, as there was never any shortage of women waiting to warm his bed even before he’d been a courtesan. Now, he was paid to treat the lady of the moment to rousing bed-sport and never went long without wetting his cock.
That had all been before the short span between one keeper and the next, before Calliope had twisted him up and turned him inside out.
“Damn it,” he groaned, rolling out of bed and making his way to the washstand to clean himself.
He hadn’t wanted it to come to this. Knowing she had rendered all other women unappealing, he’d hoped the little time they would spend in their arrangement wouldn’t be enough for feverish desire to obliterate his good sense. However, it seemed proximity to Calliope only made matters worse. In truth it was a constant torment, only making his need all the worse. It would only grow stronger now that he’d had a small sampling of her, had tasted the promise of so much more. His delusions had been built on her very real and untamed response to him and his kiss. She had seemed speechless before discovering that he’d cheated her with his trick coin, but had told him all he needed to know without saying a word.
He was not the only one trying to fight his urges. She’d demonstrated that herself when she’d kissed him back. What was wrong with coaxing her into accepting that she desired him the same way he did her?
Yes, that was all it had to be—him scratching a persistent itch, and her finally giving in to the passions she kept stifled beneath the prim and proper veneer, and nothing more.
Nick had never been one to deny himself, nor did he avoid the inevitable. There was nothing for it. At the first opportunity, he was going to seduce Calliope Barrington into his bed. For one night or several, it didn’t matter.
He had to have her.
The next day,Nick set out to enjoy a day in the company of his uncle and sister, feeling a bit steadier now that he’d come to accept the inevitable. It was amazing, what facing the thing a man had been running from could do for his state of mind. Now that he’d stopped trying to deny that he wanted Calliope to distraction, he was far better able to function. Because now he had a plan, one with a clear and purposeful objective. He would lay claim to Calliope if it was the last thing he did, Martin Lewes be damned. For the moment, that meant coaxing her into his arms and into his bed before he lost his mind for want of her.
If Benedict knew what he was up to, the man would probably wring his neck. The client had hired Nick for a very specific reason, and the leader of the Gentleman Courtesans was a stickler for the rules. One of the most important being that clients were to be satisfied no matter what. Nick couldn’t help but grin as he realized that he wouldn’t technically be breaking Benedict’s rule. Calliope might get more than she’d bargained for in him, but he’d ensure she achieved satisfaction several times over. He’d satisfy her until she couldn’t walk a straight line.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” his sister asked, breaking him out of his wandering thoughts. She watched him from her side of his uncle’s carriage, lips quivering with amusement.
“I’m simply glad to spend time with you and Uncle Paul. The weather is perfect for a day of shopping, don’t you think?”
Charity met Paul’s gaze, and the man erupted into laughter from Nick’s side.
“Should we be flattered that he cares to try to fool us, Charity? Or should we be insulted that he thinks we can’t tell what’sreallyput a smile on his face?”
Nick frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Charity snorted. “Come now, Nicky. You can’t possibly think we haven’t noticed your sudden interest in a certain lady? Miss Barrington is lovely and a wonderful match for you. I couldn’t be more pleased.”
“Never thought I’d live to see you settle down,” Paul teased.
Nick took pause before answering, though it sat on the tip of his tongue to deny any intention of settling down. A man who had spent years avoiding attachment suddenly turning his attentions on a respectable woman sent a certain message.
“I cannot deny that the lady is beautiful, charming, and would make any man a fine wife. Though, I do believe I have competition in the form of Martin Lewes. He’s danced quite a bit of attention on her of late.”
Irritation plagued him as he remembered sending a message to Calliope that morning asking if she wanted to arrange a night at the theater—the perfect chance for them to be seen, and for him to take advantage of her proximity. He’d been disappointed to receive word that she had plans already—with her sister, Hastings, andMartin.
Fucking Martin, with his golden hair and weak chin and courtly manners.
“Oh, poppycock!” Charity exclaimed. “That pretentious popinjay doesn’t hold a candle to my handsome, charming brother.
“Wonderful alliteration, my dear,” Paul quipped.
“Thank you.”
“You’re speaking as if I’ve actually announced my intention to marry,” Nick cut in. “Nothing is certain, and our association is still very new.”
“But you have developed atendrefor Miss Barrington,” Charity declared with a sniff. “I can tell.”
“After their waltz at the Covington’s ball,everyonecan tell,” Paul added.
