He makes a sound deep in his chest. His thumb moves again, back the other way, seeking my clit, and slowly grinds against it.
Suddenly, this isn’t about punishment anymore.
My hips lift and push against his hand. Oh, by the high throne of Paravel. I want him to do that again. I shouldn’t be wanting him to do that. This is Aubrey’s father, and I’m meant to be trying to be her friend, not seduce him.
I open my mouth to tell him to stop, but Archduke Levanter pulls my underwear aside and dips a finger inside me, and I groan into the sofa cushion. I can hear his rough breathing, and he touches me with care. Like he’s finding this as entrancing as I am.
I hear the sound of fast-paced high-heeled footsteps in the passage beyond, and my name being called. Cursing under my breath, I flounder up off the couch, straightening my clothes, as fast as I can.
“It’s my mother,” I say in a horrified whisper, as I pat down my hair and swipe beneath my eyes with my fingers. I must look a mess. I probably have mascara everywhere, and my cheeks will be too pink. If she discovers I’ve been carrying on with a man—any man—at a ball and opening myself up to vicious rumors, she’ll flay me alive.
The Archduke has crossed one long leg over the other and stretched an arm along the back of the sofa.
I fix a bland expression on my face and open the door. Mama has her head poking into the room opposite, as if she’s been going from door to door looking for me. I shudder to think what would have happened if I hadn’t heard her calling me.
I close the door behind me. “Here I am! Sorry. Were you looking for me?”
She turns swiftly round, a deep frown on her face. “Where have you been? Do you know how rude it is to go missing from the ball and nose all over the palace?”
“I had…a problem with my underwear,” I whisper, hoping that if I blame it on something embarrassing, it will seem like that’s why my face is flushed.
“Then you should have gone to the bathroom, or the ladies’ cloakroom for a safety pin. Someone could have walked in on you, and then what?”
Then anything could have happened. Heat blazes into my cheeks, as I follow her back to the ballroom, hyperaware of the tingling and wetness between my thighs, my reddened flesh and that Archduke Levanter had his fingers inside me, just moments ago.
How am I going to face Aubrey?Chapter SevenDevrimAfter three deep breaths, I get myself under control. Almost all of me. I grimace and slide the heel of my hand against my cock, which is straining against my uniform trousers.
I stay where I am on the sofa, listening to Lady Wraye’s footsteps recede down the corridor. Carrying on with a lesser noble was illicit and base and against everything I strive to uphold at Court. This is a place where nobility and decorum should flourish.
And yet, desire to jump up and go and get her back crackles through me. Somewhere between correcting her and forgiving her, my cock sprang to attention, and now, I can’t stop thinking about her.
Get a hold of yourself. She’s young enough to be your daughter.
A guilty pang goes through me. My daughter.
Lady Wraye was right about one thing. I don’t understand Aubrey. I don’t talk to her, and I don’t listen to her. If she only followed my instruction, she’d be safe and protected, but young women are willful creatures, who won’t do as they’re told. Not until you get them over your knee and make them—
My cock throbs again, and I swear as I recross my legs.
Commanding Aubrey to do as she’s told is probably not what Lady Wraye had in mind, but I can feel my daughter wanting to ask me questions. Pry into what came before. The man I was. My duties. My failures.
My fists tighten on the upholstery.
I wish there was a way I could have a relationship with Aubrey, without having to talk about the past. Lady Wraye probably knows how. I should take her up on her ridiculous offer to coach me in having a better relationship with my daughter.
My eyes narrow thoughtfully. She’s rude, devious and brazen, but she seems to have a brain. A smart mouth. A pretty behind.
Before I know it, I’m thinking about the heavenly grip of her pussy on my fingers, and growl under my breath. I stare blankly at the wall, reliving the hot and heavy minutes with Lady Wraye over my knee, and her panting breaths, as I rubbed firmly on her tender clit. She would look beautiful as she comes. I imagine she sounds even better as I tell her to do something, and she says in that soft, breathy voice, Yes, Your Grace.