Though she could not see his eyebrows for his mask, Emmaline was certain he had raised one as he growled, “Do not question me. Open.”
Giddy with desire, she did as he asked and when he slipped his index and middle finger into her mouth, she closed her lips instinctively, sucking her own nectar from his digits with a low moan.
She felt his hand tremble against her lips, and he groaned as if her ministrations were agonizing.
When he pulled his fingers from her mouth, Emmaline almost bit down to stop him. Instead, she watched with wonder as he slipped them into his own mouth. The look of pleasure that burned in his eyes was enough to make her quiver anew.
“This is my promise you tomy devil lady,” he whispered to her, “I have tasted you and so, I shall have you tonight.”
The evening might have lasted only a few minutes or maybe even hours, but all the while Emmaline remained draped over The Devil Lord’s lap, she was filled with desire. It was enough to intoxicate her even without the glasses of wine supplied by none other than Sean who remained like a shadow at the base of the throne, a watchdog of sorts to keep the peace within the club.
And by the time the place started to empty out, Emmaline wasn’t sure how long she had been there. All she knew was that she had enjoyed herself immensely, watching the goings on with utter fascination, getting more than a few ideas of what might be expected once she and the duke were finally alone again.
On her first night in the club she had been both disgusted and darkly intrigued by the goings on, blushing at the sheer depravity within the walls of the club. But tonight, she had stared with open fascination as women dropped to their knees and took their partners manhood in their mouths or turned around, pulled up their skirts and simply bent over the nearest piece of furniture to be taken from behind.
It was sheer, unadulterated depravity and though she knew it ought to have disgusted and sickened her, she could not help but like it.
She liked even more so the way that Alex plucked her up into his arms the moment that the club had emptied, making her feel as though she were as light as a feather.
Feeling the muscles in his chest and arms tense and powerful wrapped around her, she quivered and asked, “Where are you taking me?”
Behind the mask, he smiled as devilishly as his disguise.
“Somewhere more appropriate,” he told her as he started to walk down the steps of his throne. Though she felt she could trust him implicitly, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and clung on for dear life.
A part of her felt that if she let go, she might suddenly wake up and realize that all of this was a dream.
It was only once he had carried her up two flights of stairs, from the basement to the apartment above the main part of the club, that he finally stopped before the door of his master bedroom within the building.
“Are you sure that this is what you want?” he asked, looking down at her with obvious uncertainty in his gaze. It was mixed with something else, fear perhaps, as if he was worried she might say no.
Gulping past the hard lump in her throat, Emmaline nodded.
“I need to hear you say it,” he said, his voice suggesting that his throat felt as thick as her own did.
Struggling to speak, she whispered, “Alex, I want you to take me to bed.”
The meaning in her words seemed to cause them both to tremble and Emmaline’s insides fluttered as Alex used his elbow to twist the doorknob and his foot to kick it the rest of the way open.
Never did he give the slightest inkling that he might drop her. He remained steadfast and powerful as he carried her into the room.
She gasped at almost the very same moment that Alex did.
“Did you do this?” she asked, astonished.
This was not the first time that she had been in the master bedroom. In fact, she had slept there on nights when Alex insisted she join him at the club, but she had refused to go with him to the basement. But never had she seen it like that before.
The room had been decorated with the same red candle lanterns as the basement below, and the heady scent of incense filled the air. Most surprising of all was the large bathtub that had been placed beside the roaring fireplace. On its steaming surface was a layer of red rose petals and as Alex gently placed Emmaline on her feet beside it, she smelled the scent of lavender oil.
“How could I have?” Alex pointed out, still holding her in his arms even though she now stood before him, both of them gazing into the depths of the oiled water. “I have been with you all night.”
“Then who?”
Alex looked as confused as she, but the answer seemed to come to them both at the same instant as they both said, “Sean.”
Together, they laughed and laughed until Emmaline started to blush with embarrassment. She turned her head away on instinct though there was no way he could have seen it past the mask she was still wearing.
“It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good bath,” Alex pointed out, “Perhaps I should retire back downstairs so you might—”
