Lord Savage (18 page)

Directly across the damask cloth, Lady Carleigh sat beside her husband, the two of
them locked in a voracious kiss. As a mistress, she wore a yellow silk dressing gown,
which Lord Carleigh had shoved aside as he roughly squeezed one breast, his fingers
digging deep into her soft flesh.

I was pleasantly surprised to see them together, especially since they’d both left
with Innocents of their own last night. I knew that infidelity was a part of the Game,
but it was still rather charming to see a husband and wife so obviously aroused by
each other.

Then I glanced beneath the table, and realized that the Carleighs’ Innocents were
indeed present. The dark head of Lady Carleigh’s Innocent was nestled between her
open legs, his hands forcing her thighs widely apart as he lapped at her writhing
quim. Lord Carleigh’s Innocent was similarly engaged, his fingers tangled in her hair
as she bobbed over his cock, taking him deep into her throat as she fondled and cupped
his balls in her nimble fingers.

His lordship could not bear much more of this, and suddenly he broke away from his
wife’s kiss and held his Innocent’s head still, not letting her pull back as he drove
hard into her mouth. With a bellow he came, his face flushed and florid as he bucked
in the chair. His Innocent—a woman whom I now recognized as the Honorable Mrs. Bilton—crawled
up to perch on his thigh, grinning triumphantly as she wiped his spendings from her
lips before she kissed his gasping mouth.

The sight of Lord Carleigh’s climax must have incited his wife as well. She pushed
back her dressing gown to squeeze a breast in each hand, and arched against her Innocent’s
mouth, finishing with a series of mewling cries before she, too, sank back into her
chair. Mrs. Bilton then leaned over and kissed her, too, a kiss that the viscountess
eagerly returned, their lips parted and their tongues busily engaged.

But Lord Carleigh was busy, too. Presented with Mrs. Bilton’s bottom as she leaned
forward to kiss his wife, he promptly flipped up the hem of her costume to bare the
lady’s bottom. He made a great show of licking his fingers until they dripped with
his saliva, and then he thrust them deep into Mrs. Bilton’s core. Mrs. Bilton didn’t
flinch at this assault, but merely spread her legs apart to ease it, her bottom squirming
to accommodate the viscount’s fingers more completely.

Up and down the table, other guests applauded this performance and cheered with profanity-laced
encouragements. Meanwhile, the footmen, clad in formal Georgian-style livery with
knee breeches and white stockings, continued incongruously to serve the next course,
replacing one plate with another.

“Did you enjoy that, Eve?” Savage asked mildly, sipping his wine as if this were any
other dinner. “I know you do like to be the spectator.”

I stared at him, at a loss for what he’d consider a proper reply. For once, the truth
failed me: I was too shocked by what I’d just witnessed to say whether I enjoyed it
or not. I’d known that Lady Carleigh and her friends were considered the fast set—fast
enough to have house parties like this one—but I still hadn’t expected our hostess
and host to be quite this shameless.

“This is only a portion of their amusements here, you know,” Savage said when I didn’t
answer. “I’d guess they’ve been at it all day with Mrs. Bilton and whoever the male
might be below the table. They’ve always been a sociable pair. Their bed is enormous,
specially designed for such frolics.”

For once I was certain that he wasn’t teasing me. I’d just seen the proof across the
table.

Nor did I wish to reflect on how he knew the exact dimensions of Lord and Lady Carleigh’s
bed, any more than I wanted to know exactly how sociable he’d been with this sociable
pair.

“Yes, Master,” I said finally.

I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to, but at least it was a safe answer. I looked
down at the quail on my plate, floating in a rich puddle of rosy-pink Burgundy sauce,
my appetite gone.

I’d believed that last night with Savage had changed me, that I’d become much more
free by pretending I was Eve.

Evidently I’d been wrong.

“That’s not the final performance by our fair hostess, either,” Savage continued,
eating his dinner with no difficulty. “I do not wish to spoil her surprise, but I
will say that we anticipate it. Isn’t that so, Lady Carleigh?”

“I’ll never forgive you if you tell, Savage,” the viscountess replied, though so merrily
that I suspected she’d be perfectly happy if Savage did in fact reveal the great secret.
She was dining with gusto, completely recovered from her earlier interlude. The young
man who’d so recently been lapping between her legs now stood behind her chair, his
hands behind his back. Clearly, the viscountess had chosen him for reasons other than
any aristocratic lineage—reasons that were abundantly obvious through his thin silk
trousers.

“I like my secrets, Savage,” the viscountess continued. “Though I am delighted that
my surprises have left such a mark upon you.”

“My dear lady,” Savage said, “they are a memory I will never forget.”

“Exactly as it should be!” she exclaimed, smiling slyly across the table at me. “But
tell me, how goes the education of your own sweet Innocent?”

I smiled in return. I opened my mouth to reply, then remembered at the last instant
that this might be against the rules. Instead, I glanced at Savage, silently hoping
he’d guide me.

“It’s not necessary for you to reply, Eve,” he said mildly. “The question was directed
to me, not to you. But your excellent deference is answer enough. You see, Lady Carleigh,
what progress I have made with my Eve.”

“Eve?” Lord Carleigh said, his eyes widening with amusement. “Trust you, Savage, to
give such a name to your Innocent! Tell me, Eve, would you like to entertain my serpent
in your luscious garden?”

“She would not, Carleigh.” Savage’s expression remained pleasant, but the warning
in his voice was unmistakable, or at least it was to me. “Nor would I.”

Relief washed over me. The last thing I wished was to be forced to perform before
the others as Lady Carleigh just had.

But the viscountess herself was unconvinced.

“Oh, please, Savage,” she said, wheedling. “Your Innocent is here for experience,
for adventure. She told me so herself, even before I invited her to Wrenton. What
fun is it for her to be locked up with you the entire week?”

The edge sharpened in Savage’s voice as he said, “I believe Eve is receiving her share
of experience and adventure in my company, Lady Carleigh. Recall that she is mine
to educate.”

Lady Carleigh made a coy little moue of dismay.

“But Carleigh and I were expecting you both to join us in our bedroom later,” she
said, pausing to drink deeply from her wine. “I’d rather set my heart on it, Savage,
and you know I don’t like to be denied.”

Savage shrugged. “Then it shall be a novel experience for you, Laura, won’t it?”

I didn’t miss how he’d used the viscountess’s given name. Yet, while most times this
would be a sign of fond intimacy, now it seemed unmistakably patronizing, as if he
were addressing an overindulged child.

And, like a spoiled child, Lady Carleigh appeared not to notice.

“I don’t know why you won’t share with us, Savage,” she said. “You’ve never been so
selfish with your Innocents before.”

“Perhaps because Eve is more deserving than the others were,” Savage said, almost
as if it had only just occurred to him. He glanced down at me, tracing the backs of
his fingers up along my bare arm and idly across the top curve of my breast through
the sheer fabric. “She’s quite ignorant, you know. Her previous education has been
so woefully lacking.”

With my gaze lowered to watch his hand trail over my skin, I prayed the others wouldn’t
see how wildly aroused I was even by so simple a touch from him. His fingers slipped
lower, grazing my nipple. At once it tightened and thrust forward, and without thinking
I sucked in my breath as sensation rippled through my body.

“Look at her!” Lord Carleigh exclaimed, leaning across the table to peer hungrily
at me. “You may think she needs more education, Savage, but I’d guess she’s already
learned more than a lesson or two.”

“Oh, she has,” Savage said. “But I’ve many more lessons to teach her.”

The way he said it made me catch my breath again, and try to ease the delicious arousal
building inside me. It amazed me that Savage could do this to me with only words,
and I longed to leave the dining room and race back upstairs with him to his bed.

But, to my dismay, others could see the effect Savage had on me, too—one other in
particular.

At the end of the table, where I’d somehow overlooked him, Lord Blackledge rose from
his chair and came to stand behind Lord Carleigh.

Following closely behind him was his Innocent, the petulant girl with the white-blond
hair. She wasn’t being petulant now, for a scarf of black silk was tied across her
mouth like a gag, the silk pulled so tightly that it bared her teeth in a contrived
grimace. Her wrists were also bound with silk and pulled behind her back, forcing
her back to arch and her breasts to thrust higher. The last part of her ensemble was
a close-fitting black leather collar with a gold link in the front. Attached to the
link was a chain—a chain that the baron kept tightly wrapped around his fist like
a leash to make her follow.

It reminded me of what the woman in the entr’acte had worn around her neck last night,
and how her partner had also used the chain to jerk her into obedience. Yet, as uncomfortable
as this must have been, the gagged woman didn’t appear to be in any real distress.
She wasn’t fighting her predicament; on the contrary, in a strange way she seemed
to be enjoying it, undulating against her restraints with exaggerated movements and
batting her eyes at the other Protectors when she knew the baron wasn’t watching.

I remembered what Simpson had told me, that many of the “extra” Innocents delighted
in their roles, and were well paid for their performances, too. But I was still glad
I wasn’t one of them, and with a shudder I imagined the stocky baron in the same position
as the performers, pounding his cock into the blond Innocent’s quim as he jerked on
her collar.

But now Lord Blackledge had little interest in his Innocent, instead staring so blatantly
at my breasts and my rosy, thrusting nipples that it took all my self-control not
to lift the napkin from my lap to cover and shield myself.

“We don’t need your empty assurances, Savage,” he said with a contemptuous snarl.
“We all can see from here how primed you have her. How many times did you fuck her
before you came downstairs? Two, three?”

Savage lowered his chin, an ominous look, and set down his knife and fork.

“Suffice to say that it was more times than you could muster, Blackledge,” he said.
“Not that it is any affair of yours.”

“You know the rules.” Blackledge’s face turned red at the insult. “Just because you
bought her in that trumped-up auction doesn’t mean you can keep her to yourself.”

“The rules say he can, Blackledge,” said Lord Carleigh with a sigh. “It’s part of
being a Protector. But it would be gentlemanly if he at least shared some of the details
of his Innocent’s charms. At least have her bend over so we’d a peek at that luscious
notch of hers, Savage.”

“Why, I’d bet her cunt’s still soaking wet from wanting more cock,” Blackledge said.
“I’d bet a hundred pounds that you could get her off in under two minutes, she’s that
close now.”

Lord Carleigh’s expression lit at the suggestion. “Yes, yes, Savage,” he said. “You’ve
never been shy with an Innocent before. Take her right now on the table with her legs
in the air, and I’ll bet Blackledge here two hundred that you can make her spend in
less than a minute. If any man can make her scream for it, it’s you, Savage, eh?”

With relish he pulled out his large gold pocket watch, flipped open the case, and
set it on the table, ready to count off the minute. The others at the table roared
at the idea of such a wager, and thumped the table with their palms so hard that the
crystal danced on the cloth.

Even as Savage’s fingers continued to graze my breast, I pressed into his arm, hoping
he truly would be my Protector and continue to defend me against the others. I could
imagine all too easily how Lord Blackledge would want to determine whether he’d won
or not, and I wanted none of it.

Of course, there was no doubt that I
was
wet, with Savage beside me. He was ignoring the other men as if the question had
already been decided, and instead was tracing idle little circles over my skin that
were only inflaming me more. There wasn’t much doubt, either, that he could make me
spend in less than the required minute. How could I not when he did this to me?

But I didn’t want either Lord Blackledge or Lord Carleigh pawing between my legs to
discover the extent of my arousal, and as for having Savage fuck me here before the
others the way Lady Carleigh already had done—no amount of pretending for the sake
of the Game was going to change my mind.

I could only pray that Savage thought so, too.

In desperation I looked away from Lord Carleigh to his wife, hoping the viscountess
would stop her husband. But Lady Carleigh’s chair was now empty, and, even more surprising,
her Innocent remained where she’d abandoned him, standing beside her pushed-out chair.

The men—and the ladies as well—around the table seemed to sense my anxiety like any
other pack of ravening jackals, and it served only to stir their excitement and anticipation.

“It’s only sporting, Savage,” called Lord Wessex from farther down the table. “All
in the spirit of the week, don’t you know.”

Savage ignored him. Instead, he reached out to Lord Carleigh’s watch and decisively
snapped the case shut beneath the palm of his hand.

“No,” he said. “No bets, not with Eve.”