Page 19 of The Notorious Lord Sin
Did she not?
Dominic ran a hand over his mouth and breathed deeply. What the hell had just happened? Never in his life had a woman used him in the manner that Paris had, not without returning the favor.
He shut the music room door and leaned against it, needing to clear his mind and ease the pounding in his chest.
Had she used him? Ordered him to do as she pleased with no intention of giving him satisfaction in return?
A little part of him marveled at her gumption and the callous use of him. Men used women for such things all the time, but to have it turned against him, a lord, no matter his dire financial situation, was a heady temptation indeed.
By God, he wanted her even more now.
He wanted her to use him up. To command him to do as she wished. To make her come on his face, his cock, on top or beneath him. He would take her any way she would gift her pretty, delectable self and be happy.
He strode over to a window and wrenched it open, breathing the crisp night air deeply. He needed to get a hold of himself. He could not leave this room until the tent under his toga dissipated, and he needed to go home, if only so he could wrench off at the thought of her.
The night air went some way in bringing his pulse back to a normal rhythm, and he took a calming breath. The thought of seeing her again, of being with her alone such as they were this evening, was not enough.
Should he call on her tomorrow afternoon after the “at homes” were concluded for the morning? Would he be able to seduce her into some other romp, such as the one they had enjoyed this evening?
He reached for his cock, stroking it, fighting the urge to spend in a potted plant nearby. He wasn't that lowly or vulgar, but heavens above, this evening Paris had shown another side to her that left him reeling.
A side he liked very much and one he could use to his advantage.
ChapterEleven
Paris thanked the last of her guests who visited her 'at home' before slumping onto her settee in the drawing room and taking a deep breath.
Her first social function at home went well, and she was pleased so many of her peers came to see her. Including Millie, who had asked her about the night before relentlessly and where she had scuttled off to just before supper.
Not that she would say too much on that matter. She did not know herself what it all meant, and if she had stepped too far down a particular road and could not now turn about and change her mind.
"Lord Astoridge is here to see you, my lady. Would you like me to send him away?" her butler Frederick asked in a quieter tone so his lordship could not hear.
Paris stared at the unlit hearth and sat up straight. She glanced at the time, wondering why he would be here so late. "You may send his lordship in, thank you," she said, not entirely sure what she would say to Dominic upon seeing him again.
Everything was different now. Her plan to punish him no longer sat well with her conscience.
It was cruel to use another person. She knew that better than most. So to turn around and punish someone with the same intention to cause hurt seemed wrong.
She glanced up at the mantel and spotted the two small miniatures of her children, and a little of her apprehension ceased. Her daughter had been so close to becoming a bastard. A young woman who would never have everything that she now did thanks to Lord Hervey.
No. No matter how ill her plan sat on her soul, Lord Astoridge deserved a little comeuppance.
"Lady Hervey," a deep baritone said from the door before the snick of the door closing, locking them away together, clicked loud in the room.
"Lord Astoridge, I did not expect you today," she said, leaning forward and pouring two cups of tea. Without asking, she placed one cube of sugar and a dash of cream, just as he liked it.
He sat in the wingback chair, crossing his long legs before holding out his hand to take the tea. "Thank you," he said, sipping. "You did not forget, I see."
Paris secured her cup and sat back on the settee, pausing to answer. "A good hostess remembers how all her friends take their tea."
"Friends? Is that what we are, Paris?" he asked her.
She shrugged, wondering if they were herself. "Enemies too, I suppose."
His eyes narrowed, and he studied her a moment. Paris fought not to fidget and ask him what his inspection of her meant. What he was doing here in the privacy of her own home when she had not sent for him. Had not asked him to rendezvous with her this afternoon.
"What happened last evening?" he asked.
