14
“Would you pull down your trousers?”
Sophie knew she’d startled Cary—he had been lost in thought. Now his head jerked back, and he stared at her in surprise. “Sophie, what?”
“Would you open your trousers?”
“Sophie, I am not going to make love to you in the carriage.”
“That is fine. Because I want to make love to you.”
She was sitting beside him, which worked perfectly. Sophie leaned over and kissed the slight bulge in his trousers. He felt warm there. Against her lips, she felt the ridge in his trousers grow bigger.
She ran her lips along the ridge with soft, quick, teasing kisses. “You did this for me. Please let me do this to you. I very much want to try.”
Cary took a long, harsh breath. “Sophie, this is something that will give only me pleasure, not you.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true. Because pleasing you and watching you feel arousal and delight is actually very pleasurable for me.” She stroked her fingers along the now large bulge. “Please?”
He laughed gruffly. “Any man would think me insane if I turned you down.”
“Then don’t.”
“But having you do that will likely bring forth memories I would rather forget.”
“Why? Can’t you forget those things and just think of me? Please try.”
“All right,” he said huskily. With his gloved fingers, he undid the buttons of his trouser falls. He reached into his linens, and she saw the head push against the fabric, full and adorable. Then out it popped.
She pressed her lips to the dusky head. Heard him moan. How she loved that sound. She loved knowing he must feel the same thrill she did when he had touched his mouth to her private place.
She licked, running her tongue around the head and the firm ring that almost completely encircled it. He was so warm against her tongue. And his scent was rich and spicy.
She opened her mouth and took him deep inside.
She wanted to take him in to the hilt, but she couldn’t. He was much too long. And too thick.
Now that she had him in her mouth, she didn’t know quite what to do. He had licked her to ecstasy, but she could barely get her tongue to move around his enormous cock when it was filling her mouth.
His hand stroked her hair. Cupped her cheek. Then his hips moved, thrusting slightly into her mouth as he groaned.
He went too deep! She scrambled back, letting him all the way out.
He stopped. “Sorry, love. You’re too new for that.”
But she understood. This must be much the same for him as making love. He needed to have the sensation of sliding in and out. “You mustn’t move,” she said.
And she took him into her mouth again. She planted her hands on his hips to keep him steady. She sucked him deep into her mouth, then slid back. Over and over, she made the same motion. Her cheeks hollowed with the sucking sensation. Saliva coated him and dribbled from her lips.
But he watched her with his glowing blue eyes, and she could see lust and desire and pleasure in them.
He liked this.
But she’d thought that liking it meant he’d climax quickly.
It seemed he could last forever. And she couldn’t.
Already her jaws were tired. And he was still rigid and big in her mouth. Bigger than when she’d started.
She had to stimulate him more. But how?
She stroked down in his linens, finding his ballocks. Those were sensitive. She cradled him, rubbing them with her thumb. She sucked on his cock—at least the top half of it—and gripped the hilt with her hand. She squeezed, suckled, toyed.
“Sophie, it’s so good.”
Her fingers strayed beyond his balls, and she touched the bridge of skin there. She rubbed him, fascinated by the seam and the firm heat of his skin that she felt. Then her finger slid back farther, and she realized it was caught between his hard, hot cheeks.
“Not there,” he said roughly.
So she grasped his cock with both hands and bobbed fast and hard. She felt a terrible failure. He was moaning again, but how did she take him to—
“Sophie, stop. I’m going to come.”
If she stopped, he might stop. She wanted to give him an orgasm. She had to.
She sucked and sucked. All at once, his cock grew, and she felt a whooshing within it, under his skin, and his juices shot into her mouth. All of his seed. She swallowed in surprise. Then sucked more from him.
That made him howl, and his hips jerked up.
She kept sucking.
Then he gently drew her back off him.
He pulled her to him and kissed her. Heavens, she could still taste him on her lips, ripe and sensuous. He must be able to taste himself too.
When he let her go, after kissing her with wild ferocity, she felt rather dizzy. “Did you like it?” she asked breathlessly.
“You were spectacular.” He smiled, but it was a troubled one. What had happened?
He shook his head. “There can’t be more than that, Sophie. It’s not possible for me. But I don’t want to leave you unsatisfied.”
“I’m just happy you liked it.” Thank heaven, he did.
He did up his falls, then he held out his arms. “You are so amazing, Sophie. You won’t take no for an answer. And I almost believe you could heal me.”
“I can,” she murmured. But she said nothing more. She must do this slowly. She let him cradle her in his embrace and savored the kisses he brushed to her forehead. And then the carriage stopped, and she knew they’d arrived at her new home.
Cary and the other dukes had been her protection—Devars had not been willing to approach her when she was with them. Maybe Devars would leave her alone if he thought she belonged to Cary.
She had to make sure Cary wanted to keep her. And she was sure that if she could give him pleasure, he wouldn’t want to let her go.
But then he said something that made her heart plummet.
“Sophie, love, don’t get your hopes up too much.” Then he exited the carriage.
“Now to pleasure you.”
Sophie sat on her new bed, legs curled beneath her, naked. She was sitting there as Cary had instructed, and at his words, she quivered with anticipation.
“I brought these for you, love.” Cary wore his trousers and shirt, and he moved to the bedside table. She suddenly noticed that a box, which was closed with a gold lock, sat there.
Cary took a key from a small pocket in his trousers. He opened the lock. She had walked over on her knees to see. “What are they?”
He took one out, and she giggled in surprise. “It’s shaped like your—”
“It’s a toy you can use to pleasure yourself, Sophie.”
“You mean, I put that in me instead of having you inside?”
“Yes.”
“Is it safe?”
“Of course, angel.” He withdrew something else. A small glass vial that contained a golden fluid. He poured a little on the head of the wand and smoothed it on. “To lubricate,” he explained.
He held it up and put it in her hands. She studied it. “It’s quite like yours, isn’t it? Heavens, did you model for it?”
His brows shot up. “No, angel. I assume the sculptor wanted to model an ideal cock.”
“Then yours is ideal.” She knew she was blushing fiercely. She held it in her hands. “See, my fingers barely meet around it, just like with you.” Her thumb stroked over cool, glittering green stones in the ivory base. “These are not emeralds, are they?”
“They are. They remind me of your lovely eyes. Now, let me show you what to do.”
At his command, she lay on the bed and opened her legs.
He teased the head of the ivory cock over her cunny lips and the sensitive nub. “Your clit enjoys caresses,” he said. “Play with it, and you can give yourself a climax whenever you want.”
Slick with the oil, the wand slid easily into her cunny an inch. She gasped at the sensation. Slowly, he thrust it deeper. She moved in rhythm with him. Until the wand was all the way inside her.
Then he stroked her clit as he thrust it in her. He watched her as he pleasured her—
Oh God, she reached her peak swiftly. Intently. Her hands clutched at her sheets. She had to scream, as the orgasm sent her soaring.
She floated back to earth. He withdrew the toy. Then he cleaned her gently with his handkerchief.
“See, love, you don’t even need me.”
That made her panic. “But you are going to be my protector, aren’t you?”
“Of course. And I like to watch you come.”
After he left her to go to his home, Sophie went to her bed. She wore her nightdress and her robe. She undid the belt of her robe, preparing to go to sleep.
But she was worried. Learning how to pleasure herself was not what she wanted. She needed to work on healing Cary. She must find out what tormented him.
She had met all of his friends. They had been together since they were boys at Eton. Surely, they must know what had happened to Cary.
She just had to find the Wicked Dukes. And make one of them give her the truth—and reveal Caradon’s secret.
The next morning, she did something very daring. She looked up the address of the Duke of Saxonby in the London street directory. Then she went to his grand house on South Audley Street.
To her surprise, when she was escorted to the duke’s study, she found herself face-to-face with all the Wicked Dukes.
Including Cary.