Bastian should perhaps not be enjoying Gail’s obvious discomfort quite as much as he was. But considering he had suffered the discomfort of a cock-stand most of the day, one which had hardened to steel the moment Gail entered the room on Blackborne’s arm a short time ago, it was, at the very least, poetic justice.
Placing the oyster shell against the plumpness of Gail’s lips, before he tipped it and watched the succulent oyster enter her mouth and then slide down the slender column of her throat, was the most erotic thing Bastian had ever seen, causing his cock to pulse and pre-cum to moisten the tip.
“Well?” he prompted huskily.
“It tastes salty but of little else.” She licked the excess of the moisture from her lips.
“Another.” He picked up a second shell and repeated the process, holding her gaze with his as he did so.
“Are you not going to eat any yourself?” Gail prompted when he presented her with a third shell.
Bastian’s own aphrodisiac was in watching those moist lips parting and then the sliding of the mollusk down the length of her throat.
Much as he would like her to take his cock between her lips before he thrust it down her silky throat. The distraction of her barely concealed nipples was further cause for arousal.
To satisfy Gail’s concern, he quickly threw two of the slimy things to the back of his throat and swallowed before resuming feeding her.
His cock throbbed and leaked more pre-cum each time she allowed one of the mollusks to slide down her throat.
She turned her head away when Bastian presented the seventh shell. “I believe I have had enough.”
Bastian had chosen the food for this meal himself, and he was going to enjoy feeding every course to Gail. The torture to his straining cock be damned.
Next came delicate pink prawns on a delicious bed of green salad and covered in a cream-colored sauce.
Abigail frowned as a fork containing something else she didn’t recognize—another aphrodisiac?—was held temptingly in front of her. “I am perfectly capable of feeding myself, my lo—Bastian,” she quickly corrected herself when the earl’s eyes narrowed at her formality.
“I am sure you are,” he conceded. “But as you are mine for tonight, it is for me to decide what you eat and how you eat it.”
For tonight? Did that mean the earl had paid to spend the whole night with her?
Abigail, with the help of several of the other ladies, had prepared her body for this evening. She had been thoroughly bathed and her body perfumed, the curls shaved from her mound, leaving it smooth and bare and feeling strangely vulnerable inside her drawers. Her nipples had been rouged a deep rose. Even her feet had received the attention of a scented lotion.
Yes, her body was prepared, but her mind still was not.
Except Abigail knew this had to happen this evening. It had only been a question of who with, Bastian Forbes or Lord Gordon.
She obediently parted her lips and allowed the earl to place the succulent forkful of food on her tongue. She looked at him enquiringly when the fork remained in her mouth.
“Tighten your lips about the fork as I slide it from your mouth,” he encouraged, his eyes so dark, they appeared black rather than blue.
Abigail found it impossible to look away from him, remaining a captive of his fierce gaze as her lips tightened and the fork was slowly removed. She chewed the hitherto unknown food—another form of fish, from the taste of it.
Which was when a ball of flame seemed to burst inside her mouth, followed by that heat traveling down her throat and into her belly after she had swallowed.
She hastily picked up her wineglass and took several swallows of the cooling liquid. “What was that?” she finally managed to gasp, her cheeks feeling hot and her eyes watering. “Something was extremely hot to the tongue.”
“It was the horseradish in the sauce.” The earl forked up another of the succulent pink fish. “Eat,” he encouraged unmercifully.
Abigail did so but with a reluctance she knew her new role in life would not allow her to voice. Besides, she was not sure she had a voice left to speak with as each mouthful of this second course seemed to burn inside her hotter than the last. Her wineglass had also needed to be replenished by the time she had eaten half a dozen of the small fish, muddling her thought processes and giving a rosy haze to the room.
“Enough of that.” The earl removed the glass from her fingers as she would have taken another cooling swallow of the amber nectar. “I wish you to be relaxed, not intoxicated.”
Abigail’s bottom lip pouted. “I cannot possibly eat any more of those without imbibing more liquid.”
“Then drink water.” Bastian filled the second glass with the cool spring water he knew Blackborne imported from Wales. “Besides, we have now come to the best part of the meal.” He rose to clear away their used plates and take out two glass plates from the cabinet beneath the trolley.
“What is it?” Gail stared at the dark and delicious-looking concoction when Bastian placed it in front of her.
“Chocolate cake.” He gathered up a forkful and held it in front of her now reddened lips. The chef really had gone a little overboard with the horseradish in the sauce accompanying the prawns. Not that Bastian was complaining. He liked Gail’s lips like this, slightly puffy and red as if from being kissed. It also caused him to speculate as to whether her pussy lips would be that same delectable rose color.
Those green eyes widened. “I have heard of chocolate, of course, but I have never eaten any of it.”
“Then you are in for a treat.” The heat of Bastian’s gaze remained on Gail as she parted her lips and he pushed the fork inside before removing it again minus the cake.
Her groans of ecstasy immediately followed. “Mm. My… Oh dear lord…” she murmured breathlessly. “That is just so… Mm,” she groaned again, eyes closing as Bastian fed her another forkful.
Dear God, those groans and sighs were the same ones he wished to hear from Gail’s lips when his cock entered and claimed her cunny…
Bastian’s cockhead had ceased merely leaking pre-cum and was now releasing copious amounts of it, resulting in a wet and sticky mess inside his drawers.
He took advantage of Gail’s closed lids to claim her lips with his own, his restraint at an end. He could taste the chocolate on her lips and the delicious heat created by the horseradish sauce as his tongue ventured past those lips and into the hot cavern of her mouth in the way he wished his cock to enter her cunny. Stroking. Licking Thrusting.
Gail gave no response at first, as if she was unsure of what her reaction should be. But Bastian was aware, as he continued to kiss and claim every corner and crevice of her mouth as his own, of the moment the tension left her body and she relaxed into the kiss. Her arms moved up about his shoulders as she parted her lips farther and her tongue began to shyly duel with his own.
That shyness caused Bastian to give a groan as he took her fully into his arms to deepen the kiss.
Abigail battled to come to terms with the new sensations coursing through her body. A tingling of all her limbs and the rouged tips of her swollen breasts. The difficulty breathing. The heat at her core. The swelling and dampness between her thighs and the increased aroma of her perfumed body along with it.
All those things conspired to weaken her resistance to Bastian’s seduction—
Shaftesbury’s very deliberate seduction.
Something he had been doing from the moment he insisted on feeding her himself.
This was not the way the other ladies had described their nightly encounters with the men at Club Venus. Those had sounded more like business transactions, to be enjoyed by both if possible, but having nothing to do with the seduction Shaftesbury was practicing on Abigail this evening.
She wrenched her mouth from his, and her hands moved down to his chest. She tried to push him away in the hopes of removing those restraining arms from about her body. “Let me go!” She glared as Bastian swept her up into his arms once again, his arms like steel bands about her waist. “You—you—you voluptuary!”
The earl froze, his expression becoming stony, those narrowed dark eyes glacial as he removed his arms to sit back in his chair. “What the hell did you just call me?”
Abigail felt the color leech from her cheeks as fear rose up within her.