Page 102 of A Gentleman's Wager
“Ah! I note you do not deny knowing what that means. Should I fuck you now?”
He caught her around the waist. Louisa clawed her hands around his wrists, but he only lifted his arms and brought her fingers to his lips.
“I could scream,” she warned.
“No one will hear.”
“Charles.”
“Snores louder than I suspect you scream. Are you going to scream, Louisa?” He tilted up her chin. She could hardly bare to look him in the eyes. If she did, would he see, would he know?
“You’re a fiend.”
“And you can’t admit to yourself that you want what I’m offering.”
“I most certainly do not.”
He snorted and retreated again. Truly, he was the most frustrating, incomprehensible man she’d ever had the misfortune to meet. Confused, Louisa watched him settle on the floor with his back to the rear of the sofa’s gold upholstery.
“Do you not understand the function of chairs?”
“Perfectly, but a chair wouldn’t put me at the correct height.”
Incomprehensible…
He beckoned her with two curled fingers. “Come here and sit on my face.”
She could not have heard him correctly. “I will not sit on your lap.”
“Face, Louisa. I never said a thing about my lap.”
“Well, one cannot sit upon a face, and even if it were possible, I can’t imagine what would possess me to sit on yours.”
“Really, can you not? Is your imagination truly that poor? I’m waiting, Louisa. I won’t offer again.”
“I should jolly well hope you will not.”
But her words were no more than gnat bites. He brushed them off, while an arch smile played upon his lips.
“Should we discuss Captain Wakefield?”
“Don’t,” she drummed her foot against the floor, while simultaneously pointing at him. Her emotions ran wild if she so much as considered Frederick. She could not think of him and deal with Vaughan. Who even now waited expectantly for her. She shot a glance to the door, which still stood ajar. She ought to run. Only, he’d probably give chase, and the notion didn’t scare her half so much as it ought. In fact, it rather excited her. “Why do you hate him so much?”
“Wakefield?” He gave a rueful shrug. “He’s an oaf.”
“That’s it? I don’t know that I believe you.”
Vaughan bent his head to one side. “I don’t care if you believe me. But it’ll be a lark to snatch your precious virgin cunny away from him.”
“Why would I ever let you?”
“Oh, that’s an entirely different question. Only you can answer that. I don’t need to know the reason, though I can speculate on it being a form of revenge. What did he do to upset you that day you and Miss Rushdale went to Richmond? Did you surprise him while he was with a whore?”
“Yes!” she blurted, seized by the familiar rush of sour emotions. Her agitation sent her scurrying forwards.
Vaughan looked neither shocked nor surprised by the revelation, nor her sudden closeness, though he pretended not to notice her scarlet blush.
“I thought so. Wakefield is that sort of man. He just can’t help himself. Maybe it’s to do with being a soldier.”
