Page 46 of Doxy for the Ton
Then she reached for him and parted her lips.
“No!” Struggling to conquer the lust raging through him, he pushed her back. Undeterred, she rose, took his hand, and led him to the bed, where she pushed him onto his back. Before he could sit up, she climbed on top of him.
“Mimi, I… Oh!” He let out a groan as she grasped his cock and guided him inside her. Defeated, he succumbed to desire. Tiny stars pulsed in his mind as she shifted her body back and forth, then she increased the pace, and the tide swelled, bringing him to the brink of completion. “Slow down,” he rasped. “I—”
She thrust forward, her breath coming in sharp, angry puffs. Then his mind exploded, the stars bursting to life as pleasure ripped through him, until he cried out her name and fell back, his heart pounding against his chest, as if it yearned to be free.
He tried to move, but his spent body refused to obey, so he lay back, relishing the aftershocks of his climax. But as pleasure faded and he floated back to reality, he found himself overcome by shame and disgust.
Disgust at himself.
He felt like a cheap whore—which was precisely how he’d treated her.
By the time he could sit up, Mimi had moved her lithe body to one of the chairs, leaning back casually, one leg draped over the arm, her body exposed to him—as if she wished to taunt him and his cruelty.
His fingers trembling with shame, he buttoned his breeches and smoothed down the front. Then he plucked the blanket from the bed, approached the woman on the chair, and draped it around her shoulders. Her eyes widened, then she gathered the blanket around her body.
“Forgive me,” he whispered.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said tonelessly.
He held out his hand. “Perhaps…” He hesitated. “Perhaps we might take tea now.”
She glanced up at him, her eyes bright with moisture, and for a moment, his heart fluttered with hope.
Then she shook her head.
“Leave the money on the desk in the hallway. A sovereign should cover my expenses.”
Pain stabbed his heart at her words. “Mimi, don’t say that.”
“Why not?” she said. “We’ve made a business agreement, which includes the payment of disbursements, and I must settle the account with the dressmaker. If you dealt with her yourself, it might raise questions that you wouldn’t care to ask.”
“At least take tea with me,” he said, aware of the plea in his voice.
“Tea is what friends do,” she said. “You’re not paying me to be your friend. You’re paying me to give you pleasure, and to parade about London on your arm to improve your reputation so that in the future you will be able to pursue better women than me. Have I missed anything?”
“Aren’tyouin need of a friend?” he asked.
“I have all the friends I need.”
A spike of envy pricked at his heart. “Did the Duchess of Whitcombe visit you?”
She let out a low laugh. “Jealous, are you? Would you rather I hid myself away and paid attention to none but you?”
She stood, holding the blanket tight around her form, and he reached toward her, unable to fight the need to take her in his arms.
“Mimi, I—”
“Please,” she said, her voice wavering. “Go. I need to bathe.”
“Can’t we take tea, at least?”
She let out a sigh. “Very well. I am at your disposal.”
“No, you’re not, you’re…”
“We both know what I am,” she said. “If you want to take tea with me, then I shall comply. Everything in this house belongs to you.”
