Page 18 of His Brazen Tart
He had only been away from Joan for a quarter of an hour. Or had it been a half-hour? It annoyed him to be forced to discuss business while on an outing with her, but he didn’t encounter Warin Lyons in person often. The man was always on the move, perpetually searching for some new venture to take an interest in. He was a lot like Piers, which was why a few years ago, he had become one of the primary investors in the Olympus Club. His money allowed for renovations and new entertainments for the members, with Piers seeing a tidy profit in return.
Joan was no simpering chit; she was worldly and old enough to see after herself in his absence. Or so he had thought. Apparently, the woman had no idea how to keep still or do as she was told. Had she grown bored and wandered off in search of amusement? Or had she interpreted Piers’ absence as disinterest on his part?
He had specifically chosen Olympus for his purposes tonight, wanting Joan to see that she wasn’t alone in her wants and desires. She was still so young, and innocent despite her experience. From the time Piers had spent with her, he could see that there was so much Joan did not understand about her own nature. She was a submissive with a rebellious streak—his favorite kind. To teach her the pleasures of his world would be a privilege; one he didn’t intend to take lightly.
Of course, before he could teach her anything, Piers had to find her.
He weaved his way through a cluster of people pressing close to one of the platforms where the erotic performances took place. The patrons were so engrossed in the spectacle they hardly noticed his intrusion.
Recalling that her gown was of magenta velvet, Piers squinted in the dim lighting and searched her out. Growing more exasperated by the second, he halted, turning in a slow circle hoping that she would appear.
A round of feminine giggles drew his attention to the fountain, where he found the white-robed women known within Olympus as The Nymphs. Their duty was to entertain the guests with their beauty and sensuality, though some were known to accept payment for other activities. Lyons allowed it as long as the Nymphs made use of the upper rooms for the sake of their own safety. Piers had never dallied with a Nymph though he had often admired them from a distance.
However, it wasn’t the frolicking chits in wet, transparent gowns that caught his attention. It was Joan. Piers watched with a slack jaw as Joan splashed and giggled amid the Nymphs. In her vibrant gown and rouged lips, she stood out amongst them like a queen amid her handmaidens. Tendrils of her inky hair had fallen from their pins and glistened with water. Tiny droplets speckled her bosom, which was prominently outlined by the tight mold of damp velvet.
For what felt like several minutes, Piers found himself incapable of motion. He couldn’t take his eyes off Joan, who lifted her skirts to reveal a great deal of leg while moving through the fountain, one dainty foot kicking up to send a spray of water arcing through the air. She was as unrestrained as he had ever seen her, with a wide smile and the glitter of her eyes showing through the slits in her mask.
One of the Nymphs took hold of her hand and led her into a turn as if they were dancing. Joan laughed and went along playfully, spinning wildly before losing her balance and falling into the other woman. They went down in a chorus of laughter and a deluge of water, skirts and legs tangled about one another. Every muscle in his body went taut at the sight of them writhing against one another, trying to find purchase. He was a right bastard for watching the innocent scene and being aroused by it—but then, theywerewet and rolling about with exposed limbs and … it was all entirely too suggestive. Making matters worse was the increasing annoyance welling up in Piers as he witnessed her outright disobedience. He had given her very clear instructions on how to conduct herself, and she had wasted no time defying him. Piers would wager everything he owned that it had only taken mere minutes for her to grow bored in his absence and find her way into this bit of mischief.
Arousal and irritation swirled within him, a potent combination that left his groin throbbing, his cock swelling, and a persistent pounding beating behind his eyes. The Nymph found her feet first, then offered Joan a hand up. As she bent to lift something from the edge of the fountain, Piers noticed the bottle of champagne for the first time. Joan lifted the bottle to her lips and drank like a soused tavern wench, her breasts heaving and her throat convulsing with every swallow. His eyes narrowed and his field of vision became reduced to only her as he lost hold of the rest of his patience.
She had gone too far, and now she would pay for it.
She lowered the bottle just as he began to approach. Her slick, reddened lips parted into a round ‘o’ of surprise, before melting into a slow, catlike smile. Piers scowled. The little minx was tempting him … baiting him.
“Oh, there you are,” she said in a bright, airy voice as she stumbled through the water toward the fountain’s lip.
Piers stepped forward, grasped her by the waist, and lifted Joan and the mess of her sodden skirts from the fountain.
“I was beginning to think you had abandoned me,” Joan drawled.
Teeth clenched, he set her down and glowered at her, snatching the champagne bottle from her grasp. “If you had remained where I left you, madam, you would have known that I did no such thing. In fact, I’ve been searching for you for at least ten minutes.”
He gave the bottle a shake, exasperated to find it nearly empty. “How much of this did you drink?”
“No so very much,” she retorted, pushing a heavy lock of dampened hair out of her eyes. “Sylvia drank at least half before handing it to me.”
Piers followed her waving hand toward the Nymph who had fallen into the fountain with Joan, though the woman’s attention had been turned to a trio of young men who had taken notice of the way her sopping gown clung to the nude form underneath.
“That’s still a great deal more than the two goblets you were restricted to.”
Joan pinched her lips together, and she appeared to try putting on a sober face. She failed miserably as her shoulders began to tremble, and then her mouth split into a broad smile.
“Oh heavens,” she said around a giggle. “It would seem you are right, Sir Piers. I seem to have had … far more champagne than you permitted me. But, as I was left to my own devices, I supposed you wouldn’t mind very much if I adhered to my own rules for a bit.”
“Like hell,” he growled, thrusting the empty bottle at a passing footman. Without preamble, he crouched and grasped Joan around her knees. With a gasp and then a sound of shocked outrage, she folded over his shoulder like a bag of grain. He rose, giving her bottom a swift smack as she squirmed in his grasp.
“Be still,” he commanded, keeping an arm tight around her legs as he began carrying her away from the gathered crowd.
They didn’t attract much notice, as the sight they made was a common one at Olympus. A row of doors led the way to various rooms and passages within the twisted maze of the building, but Piers knew exactly where he was going. He pushed through a heavy oak door trimmed in gilt and carved with the image of the goddess Aphrodite. Joan went limp over his shoulder, her breathing harsh and noisy as they stepped into the quiet of a corridor.
“The time has come for you to learn the true consequences of defiance,” he told her while following the passage until he reached another door. This one, he needed a key to open, but fortunately he had already paid the fee for the use of this room. He entered to find that all was in readiness for their occupation, including a warm fire, a freshly-made bed, a stocked washstand, and a table laden with refreshments.
Piers kicked the door shut behind him before setting Joan on her feet. She wobbled before steadying herself, her face beautifully flushed and her eyes glittering like sapphires.
He forced himself to pace away from her, so overcome with desire, he felt as if he might bound right past Joan’s punishment in favor of other tempting pleasures. However, she needed to be taught a lesson, and he had a duty to fulfill as her courtesan. He also knew how much more pleasurable the evening would be if Piers drew it out and made it last. His cock swelled at the idea of hearing her beg for him to fuck her, and his balls drew up tight as he imagined her moaning his name.
He had toyed with her enough. Tonight, he would show her what he was capable of. As an added benefit, Piers would finally slake the lust that she inspired.
