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The dominant spread the woman’s legs open as curious and willing guests approached the couple. A woman with silver in her hair knelt at the submissive’s cunnie.
“I can’t look!” Isabella giggled and hid her face in Devon’s chest.
The older woman licked the submissive. Having stolen a peek, Isabella shrieked.
“The odor there is less than desirable, but I do love watching a woman at another woman’s twat,” Lord Devon commented.
Isabella seemed to vacillate between fastidiousness and curiosity, heedlessly sipping at her wine as she gazed upon the center of the ballroom.
She shook her head. “I could never—”
For a moment Halsten wondered if Miss Herwood could ever be at ease or titillated by the touch of another woman. The image of Miss Herwood spread upon the table before another woman made the blood at his groin churn.
The submissive began moaning and writhing upon the table.
“A sight to behold, eh?” Halsten directed at Devon.
Devon pulled at his cravat. “Indeed.”
“How can she...enjoy that?” Isabella asked.
“This is quite tame compared to what my lord has witnessed with previous guests of his,” Halsten said. “Have you not had as many as three women at once, Devon?”
The effects of the wine upon him, Devon hesitated, but conscious of Isabella’s gaze upon him, he waved a dismissive hand. “That be the past. My lady Isabella is certainly worth at least three of her sex.”
Isabella smiled while Halsten frowned.
“I must say your company quite surprises me, Halsten,” she said. “Miss Sherwood does not appear of equal quality. I would have thought you capable of better.”
“She suits my purposes and is far more engaging than meets the eye.”
“You could have commanded the attentions of a greater beauty.”
Her remark surprised him. He supposed Miss Herwood did not possess the classic marks of beauty, but while he might have found her plain upon fi
rst glance, through observation and better acquaintance, he now found her exceedingly attractive.
“She has not your blessings, Isabella,” he remarked with irony and held up his glass to her.
She beamed.
“To beautiful women,” Lord Devon toasted.
They finished off their wine. Halsten motioned to the serving maid for another bottle.
They watched as others took their turn with the submissive. One man fondled her breasts while another woman locked lips with her. While pretending to be engaged in the exhibition, Halsten kept a steady eye upon Devon and Isabella. He ensured Devon’s glass never became empty. The wine made Devon more libidinous but also impaired his motions. Of a thin build, Isabella could not withstand the effects of the alcohol for long and began to fall into a stupor.
“I need to visit the privy,” Isabella grumbled.
“Allow me,” Halsten, already upon his feet, told Devon.
Devon waved his hand, his glassy-eyed gaze fixed across the room on two women engaged in a strenuous kiss.
Isabella stared at Halsten’s outstretched hand. When she made no further movement, he hoisted her to her feet by her waist. As he assisted her from the room, he motioned to one of the servants.
“Have her ladyship’s maid sent to her chamber,” he instructed.
Isabella’s arm slipped from around his shoulder and she sank to the floor.
