Page 17 of The Duke's Bartered Mistress

Chapter 4

Malodorous turd-turnips!

Cankerous, deformed fopdoodle, he was an idiot. Shitenuggets!

Demon stared unseeing at the overgrown bushes outside the dirty window, trying not to think of the woman currently readjusting her skirts before she scurried from his presence. Or the way her dew coated his finger, or the way she’d jerked against him and moaned when he’d fingered her arse.

What a complete potato!

Dare he hoped that had been a moan of pleasure?

Nay, ye daft bunglecunt. ‘Twas fear. Ye were pawing her like a piece of merchandise in a shop. She was ashamed.

Aye, and that would’ve been understandable. But she’d been aroused; that was impossible to deny. Her breathing had hitched, she’d rocked against him, and her core had been so. Goddamn. Ready.

Demon had fingered her arsehole while he’d held his own cock. It had been impossible to do otherwise; he’d been hard and throbbing from the moment she’d bent over. Hell, the moment she’d done that thing with her tongue—the memory made him struggle to swallow down another groan.

It had been so tempting to flip up his kilt and take what she’d offered. She’d offered. She’d lifted her skirts and let him paw at her delicate skin, and she’d liked it? He should’ve shoved his cock in her cunny, should’ve pounded into her until he spent against her womb.

She signed the contract, bartering herself for her father. She belongs to ye now.

Releasing a sigh, Demon scrubbed a hand over his face. Aye, she was his now, until the end of the year. And then he’d lose his hold over the Earl of Bonkinbone and with it, any hope of cornering Blackrose.

It’ll be worth it. The tiny whisper in the back on his mind was difficult to ignore. Georgia spread across that desk, offering her lovely cunny to ye…

Damnation, that might just very well be worth it.

But…there was always the chance she’d break the contract. The first time she had to watch him fook her. When she realized what a monster he really was. If she turned tail and ran for the train station at Aberdeen, Demon would still have her father’s debt to trap Blackrose.

And ye would have lost the chance to taste that cunny, which ye should’ve done fifteen minutes ago.

Aye, he was an idiot.

She was here until she broke the bargain, or…

What would her father do, if he knew the demands Demon had put upon Georgia? Surely, if Demon threatened to fook his daughter daily, the man would capitulate and turn over his brother’s address?

Could this bargain actually be a way to corner Blackrose, after all?

If ye’re going to use her agreement that way, ye cannae touch her again. It wouldnae be honorable.

Well, fook honor. No one accused him of being honorable.

But now he had Georgia—for another five weeks!—and that was a hell of a bargaining chip when it came to her father. The man had to know Endymion’s cursed reputation, what a monster Demon had become. He’d agree to any terms to keep Georgia safe from that reputation.

Demon growled and dragged a hand through his hair.

This window was far too dirty to keep pretending he could see anything out of it. Did Mary never come in here?

After his accident when he’d been so near death, he’d dismissed most of the Endymion servants. There’d never been many to begin with; although the estate had been his since birth, his mother had preferred London. After schooling Blackrose had recruited him, and although Demon preferred the solitude of Endymion, he’d rarely been home.

When the servants realized what he’d become, most left of their own accord. Those who remained were loyal. Or half mad.

One side of his lips twitched. Or both.

Mary was the only one who did any cleaning any longer, and he imagined this study wasn’t high on her list. Frankly, as long as his bedchamber and the library were free of dust, Demon wasn’t a demanding master.

Mostly, he wanted to be left alone.

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