No one had perfected the art better than Decker.
He followed her in silence, prowling like a caged tiger who had been starved, it was true, and had been taunted with the promise of succor. She was moving, taking a stroll of the perimeter, stopping by each letter. Some caused a swift inhalation—such as the G, which depicted a man and woman sucking each other whilst a bare-breasted woman loomed over them and watched. Others made her eyes go wide, her lips part. The gymnastic determination evidenced by the couple curved around the O—whilst the woman tongued the man’s cock—made her speak.
“Oh my!” She pressed her hands to her cheeks, which had flushed darker the farther she traveled.
“Do you like it?” he asked, curious if the erotic art appalled her, intrigued her, or excited her.
Perhaps a commingling of all three?
“It is…” Her words trailed off as she looked to him, wetting her lips. “It is shocking. I have never seen the like. And the acts—some of them—are they truly possible?”
“Quite possible,” he assured her, his prick pulsing in his trousers. “And intensely pleasurable.”
“Allof them?” she asked, her brows raised.
She was talking about the R, he supposed. That letter involved two gentlemen and one woman.
He held her gaze. “All of them.”
“Have you…” She faltered, her question tapering off.
He smiled. “I have not attempted every position in the alphabet, if that is what you are asking. Pleasure is not the same for everyone, but that is part of what makes it such a wondrous gift.”
Decker himself did not find pleasure with men, but he had friends and club members who did so, discreetly.
“You are a conundrum,” she said softly, then blushed more furiously.
He grinned—she was so damned fetching, without trying. How had no man before him seized her up, made her his?
Ah, yes.She was young. Not yet twenty.
So dreadfully young.
Too young for a man of his jaded experience, it was certain.
For the moment, Decker thrust that reminder aside. “I could say the same of you, my dear. Tell me more about Lady Jo Danvers whilst you familiarize yourself with my wicked chamber, if you please.”
Her expression changed—she looked almost surprised. “What do you want to know?”
Everything.
What a clumsy oaf he was. It occurred to him that he did not know how to woo a woman of her ilk—not just aristocratic, because he had known countless ladies—but delicate, on the cusp of realizing her own sensuality.Innocent.Desire was a pounding beast lurking within him, and he was drawn in two separate directions, one urge to preserve her naïveté and the other to ruthlessly, savagely debauch her.
“Tell me about your family,” he said, wondering where the devil that particular request had emerged from.
Clearly, the former urge rather than the latter.
It was as if a cloud passed over her countenance. “I have a sister, a brother, and a sister-in-law.”
He sensed a story there, and he recalled there was another brother who had died in the not-so-distant past. Decker did not make a habit of following societal gossip, but as many of his businesses were tied to the quality, he did take care in making certain he knew as much of their daily dealings and interconnections as possible.
“You are close to them?” he prodded, giving her room to reveal what she wished to him, but not forcing her into any which would make her uncomfortable.
“I am closest to my sister Alexandra,” she said, turning away and continuing her slow perusal of his naughty alphabet series. “We are near in age, and we remained together, under the care of our aunt Lydia for many years. My brother Ravenscroft was saddled with our father’s debt and pockets to let until he met my sister-in-law, an American heiress. That was when he brought us to live in London. I do wish he had not left us for so long in the care of our aunt after our parents’ deaths. However, I understand the life he was living at the time was ill-suited to young, impressionable ladies being beneath the same roof.”
Decker moved with her, keeping a safe distance to prevent himself from snatching Jo up and kissing her senseless then and there. Sadness gave her voice a throaty edge. He detected a note of resentment. For her brother the earl, perhaps. But Decker was more than familiar with Ravenscroft’s reputation. For years, he had essentially kept himself from utter penury by selling himself to society women who wanted him in their beds.
“You are displeased with your brother for not looking after you and your sister himself,” he observed mildly, forcing himself to remain focused upon their conversation instead of the need for her burning within him.
