Jillian Stone - The Miss Education of Dr. Exeter

“Mes no, chouchou, Etienne and I often delight in a bit of— exhibitionnisme .” The Contessa winked at Mia a second time.

As they exchanged a few risqué remarks and bawdier jokes, Mia and Exeter were escorted out from behind the tapestry and deftly slipped back into the crowded hall. “Enjoy!” The Contessa called over her shoulder. With a snap of her fan she pointed in the direction of a large table of refreshments.

Etienne turned back. “A warning, perhaps? There are some gentlemen here— Anglais , I believe.”

MIA COULD ONLY WAGER A GUESS, but she suspected Exeter ran a worst-case scenario over in his mind. A cloud of perplexed thoughts whirled behind those sensuous, hooded eyes. The Anglais Etienne had mentioned would likely be gentlemen of the ton, peers whom Exeter might run into at a social event—or club members. She searched his face. “You’re worried.”

“Ordinarily, I would call it circumspect. But since we have tossed caution to the wind this evening . . .” He shrugged a shoulder and fashioned a reassuring simile. “We are masked. And from what I understand, no one makes acquaintances at soirees of this nature. Anonymity is de rigueur.”

As they circulated among the fornication and flogging, Mia would stop now and then to stare. She couldn’t help herself, it was all so . . . titillating. “I had no idea how shockingly wicked I could be and how easily I am brought to such depravity.”

“I blame myself for exposing you to such immoral salaciousness. Are you repentant over it?”

Mia hoped her blush was more dazzling than demure. “On the contrary, I am most humbled by my lack of regret.”

This time Exeter stopped to stare.

She started to pivot—to have a look at the sought-after, seductive woman he found so beguiling . . . and then it struck her. He was staring at her.

A slow smile, something decidedly masculine and feral, tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Hungry?”

She glanced about, as her hand swept over the buttons of his trousers. “I believe I have what is called—an appetite.” She kept her touch light, and quickly found what she searched for. That she openly dared such risqué foreplay appeared to kindle more than a glimmer in his eyes.

She stood with her back to a buffet table, entranced at the sight of a nude woman bound in leather and suspended by ropes in midair. Exeter coated pieces of dried fruit from a chocolate fountain and fed her bites of plum and berry.

“M-m-m.” The woman was being denied orgasm by her partner and it made Mia’s lower anatomy begin to thrum and quiver. She leaned back against Exeter and whispered in his ear. “Will he ever let her climax?”

“Depends how prettily she begs for it.”

Exeter pulled her to one side of the table, to a darker corner of the room. “I almost forgot.” He pulled the emerald collar from his coat pocket.

She swallowed. “Where did you find it?”

“Prospero’s bedchamber.”

A rush of heat flushed her cheeks. “I . . . we . . .” She lowered her eyes.

Exeter tilted her chin up. “For the moment, what happened between you and Prospero is not important—as long as you weren’t hurt.” He slipped the collar around her throat and clipped on the silver chain. “I thought we could use a fetish.”

A passing group of young men all turned around to openly gape at her. A sudden modesty caused her to turn away.

“Hold on, love.” He tugged the chain and positioned her derriere against him. Across the aisle, another female was being ceremoniously laid over a paddling rail. A male partner tossed her skirts and petticoats overhead—exposing a peachy, plump bum. Mia pressed against Exeter and he opened his hand. A glow of violet-blue energy swirled in his palm.

He inched up the back of her dress. “I was just thinking you might enjoy another lesson. Something mysterious, arcane—like the use of potent force for a bit of pleasure.”

More than curious, she smiled. “I must admit I’ve enjoyed my lessons thus far.”

He closed his fingers around the swirling, radiant force and pressed the tingling egg between her labia. She jumped when the compacted energy began to vibrate.

Exeter chuckled softly. “I’ve got you.” He massaged until she moaned and rubbed her ass against him. When the pulse of energy faded, she groaned. “More, please.”

“Not yet.” Exeter could be shockingly erotic at times. He was going to keep her begging for more, just like the woman splayed out in front of them waiting for the next pass of the cato’-nine-tails. Exeter’s fingers remained between her buttocks, gently circling the small, tight sphincter muscle. With each lash of the whip across the aisle, Mia’s cheeks quivered.

She leaned against him. “I do remember that spanking of yours being rather titillating—but I can’t imagine under what circumstance a flogging might be enjoyable.”

Exeter hunkered down close. “If I were to flog you . . . properly . . . I’d use the whip to increase the blood circulation to your skin. You would gradually become more receptive to the sting.” His breath carried husky words across the tip of her ear, which he kissed.

Mia shivered. “And I would beg for more.”

“You are a surprisingly sensuous woman.” He conjured another ball of potent energy and pushed it into her vagina. “Shall we explore further?”

She thought he meant deeper and nodded, barely able to speak. When he tugged playfully at her collar, she realized he wanted her to walk around the soiree with an egg of energy vibrating inside her—stimulated beyond reason—on the edge of orgasm.

An attractive couple approached them and asked for prélimi-naires . “I believe they mean foreplay.” Exeter studied her expression carefully before nudging her forward. He unbuttoned the back of her dress, dropping the front of her gown just enough to bare her breasts.

A thrill shot through her body, to be exposed in public like this. The panther inside stirred. The feral creature who longed to run—unfettered by clothes—through fields and forests and bacchanals. Quite before she could control herself, she arched forward to meet their lips. The man and the woman each tasted a nipple—nibbling lightly at first, and then sucking harder. She lay her head back against Exeter and moaned.

Shamelessly, she watched them tongue and scrape with their teeth until both peaks throbbed from their nipping. With each breath, the egg deep inside her rocked from side to side, causing her to clench her vagina. Exeter had increased the egg’s potency. “Come for me, Mia—again. I want another.” His demand sent a shudder through her body, and a kind of release.

“I am close— crescendo qui mène à un paroxysme, ” she gasped. Her entire body was racked by an explosive orgasm. Weak-kneed, he swept an arm around her waist and thanked the couple for their assistance.

He held her tightly against him as the last waves of her climax diminished and left her feeling like a rag doll in his arms. He kissed her mouth, his tongue deep and languid. “Such a willing and spirited raven mistress,” he whispered.

Across the aisle, a large, ornately framed mirror reflected the ecstatic flogger and his delightful red-bottomed partner. Beyond them she caught sight of Exeter. She watched as he folded his arms around her and buried his face in the curve of her neck. His chiseled jaw and elegant profile nearly made her wet for him all over again. “Good God, I am a wanton.”

His lips barely touched her ear—just his breath. “You are the most sensual woman I have ever encountered. Your body delights in pleasure.”

Mia sighed, vaguely aware of being buttoned. His knuckles gently brushed the skin on her back as he closed her dress. She opened her eyes to steal another glance in the mirror. Behind them, not ten feet away, a striking man with silver eyes watched, intently. A chill ran down her spine. “Prospero.”