Chapter 3
Edward, long accustomed to remarkably awkward interludes with husbands, knew better than to move quickly.
On one occasion prior to his stud days, he’d remained so still that a captain hadn’t even spotted him on a chair, and Edward made his way out of the room when husband and wife retired to dress for dinner.
No such luck. Edward stifled a groan.
“Darling, I was just telling Lord Ed—Netherwallop about the latest foals. We’ve excellent prospects, do we not?”
The duke cast a pitying look at his wife. Oh, that was not good. This man clearly knew there was a game afoot.
“We do. I understand Netherwallop knows a thing or two about breeding? Perhaps he might give his opinion on the bloodlines. I believe the new foal shares a great-grandfather with his own stallion.”
Now he’d done it, entangling himself in the affairs of Tencendor’s relatives. The next time his horse tried to throw him, Edward would need to accept the toss; he was a right idiot who belonged on his arse.
Phily’s lips had formed a smile, and she was about to spout some additional nonsense to steer them from the shoals when the duke interrupted.
“Damn, Phily, help me with these falls so I can get in that pretty mouth. You’ve got me hard as fuck.”
It was the work of a moment, and the entire stage changed, launching him from one farce straight into another.
For her part, Phily had the look of a cat served a bowl of cream as she wiggled to the edge of the chaise and bit her lip while unbuttoning those stylish new trousers her husband wore distressingly well.
When she pulled her husband’s cock out — admirably large, damn and blast him — she wasted no time in wrapping her lips about it and bobbing away like a Covent Garden girl.
Edward had always assumed aristocratic marriages lacked something — a certain frisson — but he was coming around to the idea. His former fiancée was a good little cocksucker.
Which made the whole thing that much more awkward. Not only had the lady’s husband discovered Edward in her chambers as she showed off her cunt, now he was growing increasingly hard while watching whatever aspect of marriage this was.
“Philadelphia has a fine little throat,” said the duke as he tested said throat with a thrust. “Unfortunately, you did not train her properly, so I had to.”
Gesù, if he escaped this house of horrors with a shred of dignity, it would be a miracle.
“Yes, I was under the impression one does not meddle with debutantes,” said Edward. “A mistaken impression, it seems.”
The duke placed his hand on Phily’s neck and brought her nose close to the thatch of hair ringing the base of his cock.
“That is usually the case,” said the duke contemplatively, closing his eyes in pleasure when his wife gagged momentarily.
“But the argument falls apart when the debutante in question is a ripe little slut.”
Edward was ready to issue a challenge, rank and familial ties be damned, but then he saw the look on Phily’s face. Her eyelids were heavy, and she wore an expression of bliss. On the parts of her not currently occupied with sucking her husband’s cock, that was.
The duke graced her with the softest smile Edward had yet seen a man of the ton direct at his own wife. Why, it was the sort of look he couldn’t imagine giving anyone save his closest friend and maybe his horse, on a good day.
“Well, congratulations to you both,” he said, rising to take his leave and finding that he meant each word despite their shared history.
“I wonder if you might be interested in a proposal.”
The duke’s words rang out with authority. This man expected that his every wish would be granted, and it rankled.
“I have no doubt you drive a hard bargain, but I’m afraid I’m in the breeding business.”
“Oh, I know what business you’re in, Dick Stone.”
This couldn’t be good. Once again, Edward cursed the infernal Lady Millicent for dragging him into this mess.
“All signs point to your nursery being filled regularly,” said Edward, hoping to be released from this farce before the lamb pie seller he’d settled on for serving his dinner went home.
“Yes, it is supplemented regularly,” said the duke, holding his wife’s head in place as he came with a shout.
When the duke removed his cock from Phily’s swollen lips, he used a thumb to wipe some seed that had escaped. Their tenderness didn’t hurt him. Well, not specifically theirs. But the existence of such sweetness available at all hours of the day set his ribs to aching again.
“I am unconcerned with the succession at this point. My love has given me three boisterous sons. And now I’d like to give her to you.”