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A tear rolled down her cheek. Thankfully, there was nothing but the darkness of the manor hallways to bear witness to her confliction. Shame and sadness welled within her, and she clenched her teeth together to keep from crying out.

Perhaps it would be best to avoid the duke for the rest of the weekend. Grandmother could meet with him upon their return to the capital. Mei could not possibly face him again. Not after tonight.

13

Sebastian

Soft lips pressed against his, and Sebastian reached up to slide his hand through a silky stream of hair. The black curtain fell around Miss Hu’s shoulders, slithering over her bare upper body, providing peeks of her pale, creamy skin, her high breasts tipped with dark nipples.

“What are you doing?” he murmured as her lips moved away from his, trailing down to his jawline.

“Seducing you,” she whispered back, her voice full of heat and need.

Sebastian did not need any seduction on her part; he wanted to say she had already bewitched him. But then he felt her heat, the slick wetness, settle atop his cock, and he cried out, unable to form words. The silky strands of her hair brushed against his skin as she sank down atop him.

He strained to move his hands. He wanted to feel her. To touch her. But it was as if they were suddenly made of lead. Both of them, on the bed, no longer able to move. No longer able to reach for her.

“You want me, do you not, Your Grace?” The sultry teasing in her voice was driving him wild as she lifted herself up, then sank back down atop him, as if she was using him for her own pleasure. Sebastian groaned and tried to lift his hips, wanting to thrust up into the sweet heaven of her body.

Like his hands and arms, his hips would not cooperate. He was pinned down somehow. Unable to move. Unable to do what he wished with her.

Miss Hu leaned down to brush her lips over his chest, a scorching path of fiery kisses while her pussy squeezed the length of his cock that was buried inside her. She rubbed herself against him, clenching around him, and Sebastian groaned again. Somehow, the sound was very far away.

“Tell me you want me, Your Grace.”

It was not a request; it was a demand. She squirmed atop him as she made it, her voice almost taunting now.

“I want you.” He tried to form the words, but now it was as though his lips would not move. He tried again, harder, desperate now to tell her what she wanted, to confess the truth. “I want you. I want you. I want you!”

It came out as a shout, and the movement of his lips, the true shout, was what finally woke him. Sebastian came to with a start, gasping as he started to sit up, then his muscles released, and he fell back against his bed, panting for breath. His cock was rock hard, and he swore he could still feel the phantom brush of Miss Hu’s hair and lips moving over his shoulders.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, closing his eyes and reaching down to grip his cock. It didn’t feel nearly as good as her pussy had in his dream, but it was better than nothing.

Miss Hu had made it very clear that she was not mistress material, but as that was not what Sebastian had been thinking, he was not put off. In the meantime, the desire that he felt for her was clearly reciprocated, which had led to this rather filthy dream this evening.

As he began to pump his cock with his hands, his mind was full of the erotic images his dream had supplied for him. Her lithe body. The way her pussy felt around his cock. The silky spread of her hair over his skin.

He wanted to get his hands on her. All over her. And his mouth. To lick and taste every part of her, from her delicate toes all the way up to her lips. To find every part of her that made her gasp or squirm with erotic delight.

Not only that, but his hand itched for far more. He could easily imagine bending her over his knee or his bed and spanking her for declaring she would not be his mistress when he had not even asked her. For refusing him without hearing him out. Not that he had been about to ask her to marry him, but he had not been about to offer her carte blanche, either.

She’d taken their conversation about desire and turned it into something it was not.

Even though he understood why her mind would naturally go that way, he still wanted to spank her for it. To hear her soft cries of pain and pleasure as the two mingled in her body. Consequences for assuming the worst of him. And then once her bottom was nice and hot and red, he’d turn her on her back and put his mouth to her pussy. Use his tongue to drive her wild and make her writhe, all while resting on her punished cheeks.

He’d use his fingers in place of his cock, impaling her on them, using her pleasure to cover them with slick lubricant, then sliding them into her naughty bottom. Bring her to her climax while he fingered her arse.

Sebastian could almost taste her on his tongue, could see her in his mind’s eye, writhing and crying out, rubbing her pussy against his mouth, her bottom clenching around his fingers. He did not even get to imagine fucking her, as his own pleasure peaked at the very idea, and he groaned as his seed spurted and warm liquid pattered against his stomach.

Once he’d cleaned himself off, he lay in bed, thinking. Not for very long. Just long enough to come to a decision.

And once that decision had been made, sleep came quite easily.

Mei

Sleep had been fitful at best, and Mei was wide awake when Jocelyn came into her room the next morning. The humiliation she’d felt as she’d fled the duke last night still lingered. Perhaps she could claim she’d had too much wine at supper and could remember nothing. Perhaps if she pretended nothing had happened, he would indulge her and play along.

“Good morning,” Jocelyn said cheerfully as she opened the drapes. Sunlight streamed in. Of course it was a cheery, beautiful day rather than cloudy and grey to match her mood.