CHAPTER NINE

Drake hated Buffy Gruffy .

He didn't examine the reason why when previously it had been one of his favorite games. The nudging of women's skirts, the subtle flirting with approved touches that bordered the line of impropriety. It was a game after his own wicked heart.

But he wished to never experience it again.

The incessant giggling by the younger ladies in attendance. The wolfish stares from the men. That blackguard Langley stealing a kiss from Wren.

Drake didn't get jealous.

Unless it was over Farrow's betrothed.

But even that paled in comparison to whatever demon was currently gnawing at his gut. Miss Sharpe held a mild fascination for him with her debutante demeanor and classic beauty. He'd felt more for her than any other woman of his acquaintance in recent memory, which prompted this entire charade with his beguiling spinster.

But Wren was supposed to be kissing him only.

She was his diversion.

Not that bastard Langley's.

And her deviating from the plan burned a hole in his stomach. Yes, that was the issue. She wasn't abiding by their arrangement.

Even in his head, Drake realized he sounded the slightest bit silly. It's not like the woman could refuse the forfeit. Though she could have fought harder to avoid Langley's lips , he thought darkly.

The little bird in question artfully removed herself from the guests swarmed around her and Langley and exited the room as the game continued with another poor sap. Sliding along the wall, he slipped through the open door and trailed her hurried footsteps down the hall.

A loud bell chimed the late hour. Eventually guests would spill out of the parlor on their way to bed, but he and Wren would already be safely ensconced in her bedroom if he had anything to say about it.

He had a taste of her passion yesterday. Tonight he would gorge himself on the entirety of her curvy body. And if it happened to completely destroy the memory of Langley's kiss? All the better.

"Miss Preston." His voice carried up the stairs they now climbed. Wren paused with a foot above the last step before quickening her pace down the corridor, running to the safety of her room.

Flying, more like. His little bird certainly loved making him give chase, and the hunt heated his blood.

At the closed door of her bedchamber, he caught his prize. "Tell your maid you won't be needing her services this evening."

"Betsy is already asleep in the servant's quarters. I gave her the night off since she wasn't feeling well," Wren explained, her chest heaving with labored breaths from her hurried flight.

"Perfect." Drake turned the doorknob and ushered them into the shadowy room. "Did you enjoy tonight's entertainment?"

"Naturally… It was quite exhilarating." She twisted around, her skirt catching around his legs.

Anchoring her to his front with one hand to her bottom, Drake grit his teeth at the instant pleasure of her pussy's heat slamming against his aching cock.

"Unfortunately, I can't say the same," he drawled. "I didn't get any kisses tonight, but you're going to rectify that, aren't you, little bird?"

He dropped his head and claimed her mouth with a growl, both of them dueling for supremacy as they stumbled further into the room.

"Don't pout, my lord," Wren muttered against his lips. Her heavy pants for air matched his. "I'm sure you've had more kisses than all of us in that room combined. Fasting for an evening won't ruin your reputation as a notorious rake."

"Oh, but I don't plan to fast." Drake shrugged off his jacket and ripped his shirt overhead, choking slightly on the cravat that he hurriedly yanked apart.

Naked from the chest down, he appreciated the desire in Wren's blown pupils, magnified by her spectacles. He was fit in a way most lords weren't, participating in physical sports like pugilism, and it paid off in the thick musculature of his arms and chest.

An audible gulp came from Wren, and he watched as her throat undulated from the movement. Soon he'd fill that narrow space with his cock.

See how easily she could swallow then.

Drake gently pressed on Wren's shoulder, silently indicating that she should kneel again, mimicking her earlier position in the parlor while he unbuttoned his trousers. His pulsing erection immediately bobbed free, and he didn't miss the shocked inhalation from the innocent woman before him.

"Is this your first cock, little bird? Don't be afraid. I'll teach you exactly how to take it."

"I'm not afraid," she retorted, some of her sass returning in the face of his taunts.

"That's good. Very good," he said, stroking from his heavy stones to the weeping head of his cock. His seed already made the slide easier, and Drake couldn't wait to stuff her mouth full of it. "Open wide, darling. Your first lesson in cocksucking starts now."

Like the obedient little bird she was proving to be, Wren rested her hands on his thighs before opening her mouth to form the perfect pink hole for him to fuck.

"So pretty." His thumb traced her lips, then he tapped the angry mushroom head of his cock on her tongue. "Your mouth has already proven to be a little brat, hasn't it? A naughty temptress." He slid further into the hot cavern, groaning at the wet heat of her tongue along the prominent vein beneath his cock.

She moaned around his length, and the vibrations almost drew his release. Christ! Not again. Biting his tongue, the pain brought him back from the edge.

Their evening was only just beginning, and Drake vowed it wouldn't start with the snap of his self-restraint.

Wren wouldn't make him lose control again.