A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)

A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)

Victoria Vane




Prologue


Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, 1768



The melodious strains of the Corelli air grew fainter, the lamps swaying gently in the evening breeze sparser, and the tree-lined pathway narrower, while the stars glimmered in the clear night sky like diamonds against black velvet. It was all seemingly custom-ordered for the two couples who meandered the lesser-traveled Lovers’ Walk. While the first pair perambulated arm-in-arm, pausing upon occasion to steal a laughing kiss, the second lagged farther and farther behind until the young lady caused their progress to halt altogether. “Ouch! Pray stop,” she cried, clutching her companion’s arm.

“What is it, Caroline?” asked Ludovic, Lord DeVere.

“Only a minor nuisance. I’ve a pebble in my shoe.” The couple ahead, Sir Edward and Lady Annalee Chambers, immediately turned back.

“No, no.” Lady Caroline waved them onward with a smile. “Don’t trouble yourselves. Pray go on ahead. I just need to find a bench where I might remove my slipper. We’ll catch up with you directly.”

Lady Chambers looked to her husband with hesitation. “I don’t know… I would hate to be deemed a negligent chaperone.”

The two men exchanged a conspiratorial look.

“I promise she is in good hands with me, Annalee,” Lord DeVere reassured. “Why don’t we just meet up with you at the Ruins of Palmyra?”

Lady Chambers’ brows met in a frown until her husband whispered something reassuring in her ear. Her mouth formed a perfect O, and then she smiled. “Very well, then. Ned and I will walk slowly, but pray don’t be too far behind.”

Waiting until the Chambers disappeared into the darkness, the remaining couple cast a last furtive glance up and down the path to ensure their privacy before coming together in a fierce and impassioned embrace. Panting, clutching, and moaning between fervent kisses, the lovers backed deeper into the privacy of the trees, tugging at cravat and laces, tearing at clothes.

Her bodice loosened, DeVere freed Caroline’s breasts from their confinement and pulled a nipple eagerly into his mouth. She threw her head back with a cry and groped for the placket of her lover’s breeches. He raised his head from her half-bared bosom with a groan and halted her progress by encircling her delicate wrist in his iron grip.

“What a delightful wanton you are, but if you seek proof of my desire, I’ve already given you undeniable evidence. There’s no need to torture me further.”

“But I have a very special birthday gift for you, my darling.”

“Do you, indeed?” he asked, his interest growing in tandem with his erection.

She glanced down with a half-smile at the huge bulge in his breeches. “I want to feel your desire, Ludovic.” She ran her fingers leisurely up the length of him and brazenly cupped his straining cock through his breeches. “Oh my,” she voiced her delight as if she’d discovered an unexpected bounty.

Damn the vixen! ‘Oh my’ isn’t the half of it. He was already hard as a rock, and her boldness only pulled at his last shreds of restraint. He was actually trying to behave with circumspection…for a change.

“Yes,” she gushed. “A very special gift.”

“You play with fire, Caroline,” he warned. “You know we mustn’t take this much further.”

She met his gaze with a guileless expression. “You do intend to marry me, don’t you?”

“I have already asked to speak to your father. Surely, he knows my purpose.”

“He won’t have the slightest objection to your suit, I assure you. Papa only wishes to see me happy and will agree to whomever I choose…so long as he’s noble…and rich,” she added with a laugh. “So what harm is there in seeking a bit of pleasure while we can?”

She removed his hand from her breasts and brought it to her lips. Wetting it with her little pink tongue, she slowly drew his index finger into the hot confines of her mouth. Her other hand squeezed the bulge in his breeches.

Ludovic ground his teeth. “Methinks you don’t know what you do, Caro.”

She sucked harder, sending a jolt of molten lust to his throbbing staff and then withdrew his finger, using it to trace a sensuous path over her full mouth. She gave him a slow, evocative smile. “But that’s where you are quite wrong, my darling. I assure you, I know exactly what to do.”

Words filled with prurient promise. Bugger it all! Ludovic flung his best and most expensive silk frockcoat to the ground, spreading it wide for her to kneel upon, a willing sacrifice to the gods of pleasure. With her gaze fixed upon his face, Caroline lowered herself to her knees, plucking her gloves off with her perfect, little teeth while he manically struggled with the straining buttons holding his jutting cock at bay. Once freed, his entire hot, hard length sprang forth into her hand.

She slid it slowly up and down his shaft. “I don’t know who has the better gift, you or I.” She chortled, low and husky. Gazing into his eyes, she darted out her tongue, stroking the underside of his length, teasing him with little flicks and darts. He inhaled sharply, his cock reflexively jerking in her hand. With a look of devilment, she slowly circled his crown of smooth flesh between her parted lips.

“Dear God in heaven.” He threw his head back with a groan. His bollocks contracting in anticipation, he clasped her nape in encouragement.