She was quiet for a moment, as if she was letting that sentence sink in. Then she shifted out from under him and to her knees. She crawled toward him like some lovely, sleek tiger stalking her prey. “You know, Simone would caution me not to give away what I normally sell.”
“She’d be very smart to do so,” he admitted, and shivered as Arabella cupped his cheek and smoothed her fingers across his jawline.
“But…I think in this case I’ll make an exception. For a while. For fun.”
“Fun,” he repeated as she reached between his legs and began to stroke the cock that was already half-hard again thanks to the taste of her pleasure on his tongue and the irresistible game of her. “I like fun.”
She laughed. “I can tell that about you. And it’s good, because we’re about to have a great deal of it.”
He laughed too as she pushed him back on the bed and then her dark head lowered so she could finish what he hadn’t let her earlier. And as she took him in her mouth, he closed his eyes and let all the pleasure erase anything else he felt.
At least in that he could trust.
* * *
It was nearly six in the morning when Arabella’s carriage pulled up to her townhouse in the heart of Mayfair. Silas hadn’t been entirely wrong when he said they’d shut the Donville Masquerade down. By the time they came out of that lovely little room in the back, there were very few patrons left. They’d parted ways with a kiss and a promise to play again soon.
And now she was home and though she was deliciously exhausted from the demands of Silas Windham, she was also incredibly satisfied. It wasn’t often one fulfilled a long-held fantasy and found it fully lived up to expectations.
Her driver helped her down and her butler opened the door for her as if he’d been expecting her. Barnaby was just entering his middle age, far younger than some of the senior servants she encountered. He was a handsome man, she’d picked that specifically when she made her household choices. Why not have something pretty to look at every day? His wife, her cook, was equally enamored and that was sweet.
But he was also efficient and strong enough to offer physical protection if she needed it. And as with all her servants, he didn’t judge her.
“Welcome home, Miss Comerford,” he said with the same tone as he would have had at six in the evening. “Would you like tea or straight to your rest?”
“Tea would be lovely and perhaps some of the scones left over from yesterday? I’m famished.”
“Of course, miss. Right away.” He inclined his head and left her.
She entered the parlor just off the foyer and smiled. Her home was not enormous, but it was very fine. Her third protector, the Duke of Kentwood, had gifted it to her to live in while they were lovers. He’d been a very good man to her after a very bad experience prior and she had spread her wings under his tutelage for over a year. Yes, he’d wanted to tame her wild, but he hadn’t been cruel about it. When it was over, he’d given her the house outright, along with a small annuity to cover its upkeep and care for as long as she lived in it. It had been the height of generosity.
It had also given her enormous power and freedom in whom she picked as a lover and how she managed that person. And it had allowed her to offer a place to each of her sisters when they’d escaped the cruel machinations of their father. Even now, Julia stayed with her while she looked for her next protector. There was no fear of being put out into the street at the end of an arrangement, so therefore no rush to accept any man who might take her.
Arabella crossed to the window to look out on the street as the city began its day. Once again her mind slipped to Silas and his hands on her, his mouth on her. But also on his confession that he’d thought of her over the years just as she’d thought of him. It was funny that such a brief moment had silently bound them and brought them to this place.
“You are home very late.”
Arabella started and pivoted to find Julia entering the parlor behind her. Her sister was still in her nightrail with a silky robe tied over it and she was barefoot.
“And you are up far too early,” Arabella said.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Julia said, and came to stand with her at the window. “I waited up for you a while last night and then tossed and turned. So when I heard you, I thought I’d come down.”
Arabella guided her to the settee and smiled up as Barnaby himself brought the tea service in. Likely because the other servants were busy doing other preparations for the day that didn’t usually involve the interruption they were encountering now.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” she asked.
Julia let out a sigh. “Oh, you know. Just pondering my options. Unlike you, I don’t have a line of gentlemen out the door to offer protection. It’s always hard to make these decisions."
Arabella covered her sister’s hand with hers and squeezed gently. Of the three of them, Julia was the least certain about her path. She had only been a courtesan for a few years, after Evelina and Arabella had swept in and rescued her before she could be married to a wretched man, their father’s last attempt to use his daughters for his own gain.
Arabella had tried to protect Julia from the life for a while, but in these walls it was impossible for her younger sister not to understand what and how Arabella and Evelina made their way in the world. Ultimately, she had stepped into that world, herself.
“You judge yourself too harshly,” Arabella said. “You have many gentlemen who are interested in you.”
“But not like you,” Julia insisted.
Arabella shrugged. “That’s because my way is to dazzle them until they’re so blinded by lust that they have to have me. But that isn’t the way of everyone. Many men want someone soft and demure and gentle on their arm. They have an unpleasant relationship at home, perhaps, or they’re of a shy bent and want their lover’s company to soothe as much as inflame.”
