“My word, you are a stealthy one this evening,” she teased.

He fit the mask over her eyes, and turned her around. “We shall be ravens in the night.” His softly spoken words sent a shiver through her. She held the mask in place while he looped the satin ribbons in a bow behind her topknot.

Mia tied Exeter’s mask on, but was not prepared for the lurch in her stomach when he turned around. The mask shaded the top half of his eyes, and a glimmer of gaslight played across his face—dark pupils with a glint of emerald in his gaze. Another tremble quaked inside her. The devilish kind of quiver that caused naughty thoughts and made her ache for intimacy with him. “Do you think we’re presentable enough?”

A half smile toyed at the edges of his mouth. “Just a guess, but clothing might be optional here.”

Mia blinked. “Whatever do you mean—?”

He grabbed her hand and slipped into the crowd. Exeter lifted a chilled bottle out of an iced chiller and replaced it with the bottle he had stolen. “This bottle, a decidedly better vintage, could use a chill, but while we wait . . .” He moved to another table, and procured two empty glasses. “Guzzle a few of these, darling.” As soon as she downed the champagne, he poured another.

Halfway through her third glass, she hiccupped. “Exeter, I’m afraid I’m . . .”

“Yes, I believe you’re about ready for the third floor.” While they finished their bubbly, they both watched the ups and downs, the comings and goings of the guests. “The Contessa has not shown her face. Not a sign of Ping or Tim Noggy.” His gaze returned to her. “You haven’t seen anything that might resemble Prospero?”

Mia arched a brow. “Might he be a shape-shifter? I didn’t get that impression.” He emptied the last of the bottle into her glass. “Are you trying to get me sloshed?”

“I am.” Exeter took hold of her hand, and angled his mouth for a kiss, but instead spoke in a whisper. “Do you know what a sexual fetish is?”

Mia shook her head. “I don’t believe so.” She leaned closer. “What is it?”

“Exotic sexual preferences, you might call them. Sodomy of all varieties, the ménage à trois—three usually, though there can be more.”

Mia snorted a soft laugh. “Ménage à quatre ou cinq?”

Exeter sighed. “There is a subset of the beau mode who enjoy sex orgies—incorporating a variety of different fetishes. The Earl of Shrewsbury is fond of spanking. During the hunting season he hires a number of courtesans out to his country estate, for entertainment.”

Mia placed the back of her hand to her burning cheek. All this talk of fetishes and orgies nearly had her wet with perspiration. “One would think his backside would be sore enough after a hard day in the saddle.”

His mouth twitched. With his eyes and nose covered, she found herself staring at his mouth. Slightly wide, with a full lower lip and well-formed upper. A girl might lose control of herself. “You’re taking this awfully well.” Exeter remarked.

“The cat is curious.”

“And Mia?”

“She would like to see for herself—what goes on at these orgies.”

He reached for the glass in her hand and set it down on a passing tray of empties. “I had no idea you were a voyeur.”

Chapter Twenty-two

AT THE TOP OF THE STAIRS, they were welcomed by a man wearing an opera hat, velvet mask, and little else. Leather straps crisscrossed his naked body, leaving the most important parts to dangle. “Raven master, mistress. Name your pleasure.” He dipped a bow.

Exeter kept his hand at the small of her back, just above the bustle. “Might there be private viewing rooms?”

The flamboyant greeter pointed to a wall covered by a large tapestry. Exeter whisked her down an aisle filled with the most startling displays imaginable. Agog at the sight of a gentleman performing oral favors, Mia gasped. “That man has a ring in his penis.”

“Fetishes often defy imagination, especially if one has no proclivity for them.” Exeter pushed back the heavy drape. “Shall I take you behind the curtain, mon joli voyeur?”

“And what will you do, monsieur, once you have me alone?”

Grabbing her hand, he whisked her behind the tapestry and into a passageway that connected several small chambers. “I hear moans,” she whispered. They passed through a maze of rooms, each one lit by a single candle.

“The sounds of pleasure.” Exeter came to an abrupt halt. Craning her neck to see around her tall, muscular escort, Mia could just make out the end of the passageway, and if she was not mistaken, the gasps of heavy breathing.

Exeter moved the candlestick to a nearby ledge and placed her in front of his body. With one arm tight around her waist, he opened a metal shutter that covered a diminutive window to the next chamber.

“Watch.” Exeter rasped a whisper, nibbling the lobe of her ear.

A tingle ran down the length of her neck—she felt entirely decadent, but unable to resist peeking through the small opening. A faint glow filled the adjacent chamber, but there could be no doubt who was perched on the edge of a table. The silver feathered demi mask did little to disguise her identity. Mia recognized the Contessa Castiglione with her skirts hiked up to her hips. And that must be Etienne Artois’s hand between her legs.

She gasped and Exeter covered her lips with his finger. “Might have known we’d run into them here.” He opened a few buttons and pulled the neckline of her dress over her shoulders, effectively pinning her arms to her sides. She felt immobilized, vulnerable—her breasts were completely exposed. Exeter took a small mound in each hand, and they both watched quietly as Etienne dropped his head over the Contessa’s bared bosom.

At the instant Etienne sucked the Contessa’s breast, Exeter plucked Mia’s nipples. She thought she might explode from the intensity of such pleasurable sensation. “Do that again.” She leaned back against his chest, and he plucked her nipples until she became weak-kneed.

Gathering the back of her gown, he methodically folded the ruffles of her skirt. “Remember to watch, Mia.” Slowly, purposefully, he untied her bustle and placed the contraption on a side table. His hands wrapped around her waist and untied lacy French drawers. He edged them over her hips, and they slipped to the floor.

“Step out of the pantalettes and spread your legs.” A soft-spoken demand, but a demand, nonetheless. Mia’s heart pounded blood to her nipples and clitoris. She wanted him to touch her there . . . and there. A cool draft of air wafted up the inside of her thighs as she waited for his caress.

Finally she gasped, “Touch me.”

“How impatient my little voyeur is.” Soft-spoken words—more of a tease than a reprimand, still he covered both breasts and rolled her nipples until she moaned.

His fingers slid up the inside of both thighs, and she trembled as he reached the apex of her pleasure. “Oh, Exeter—please.” Her whole body throbbed for him—and the cat urged her on. Skillful fingers entered moist folds, slick and smooth, he stroked back and forth lightly. He uttered a deep, husky groan and nuzzled the hair behind her ear. “You’re so very wet, love.”

He moved to her side and placed a finger on her clitoris, while his other hand stroked between her legs from the rear. He used his mouth to caress the length of her neck, and his erection rubbed against her side. She answered him by rocking her hip gently back and forth against his straining penis. They were both in a reverie of sensation. “Just as we are enjoying the Contessa and her homme de fille, we are likely being watched by others.”

Mia stiffened slightly. “You are beautiful; let me arouse you.” As if to prove the statement he turned her enough to suckle a nipple, and her pleasure soared to a new heights.

His finger circled her clitoris, while his other hand went deeper—swirling one, then two fingers inside her. He scissored enough to find the spots that made her gasp and moan.

Mia’s eyes grew wider still, as she watched Etienne through the opening. He walked around the table and presented himself to the mouth of the Contessa. Mia eyed the handsome penis that sprung from his trousers. She managed to tear her eyes away and turn to Exeter. “Unbutton me.”

Exeter hesitated at first. When she raised a brow, he removed the top of her gown. He took a moment to admire her bare torso. A thrilling kind of excitement quivered through her body. She would bare herself, presumably, for all the world according to the Contessa Castiglione. She moved to unbutton Exeter’s trousers and liberate the man’s impressive shaft.

Now that she had something to compare it to, she thought his penis handsome—and nicely large in scale. In her brief visit to the Contessa’s den of iniquity, she had been exposed to more male appendages than she had ever seen in her life, with the exception of Exeter’s medical books and pornography collection.

He teased her by removing his hands from between her legs. “Untie me.”

“I believe it is also your turn to watch.” Sinking onto her knees, Mia took him, not quite fully, in her mouth.

Fully would have been impossible.

Exeter flattened both palms to each side of the window and rocked in and out of her mouth—gently at first. Groaning his pleasure, Mia knew he aligned her ministrations to the scene in the adjacent room.

There was something altogether exotic and mysterious to these sex games, and she found herself, shockingly, an enthusiastic player. And she delighted in giving Exeter pleasure. She ran her lips and tongue over his throbbing, velvet shaft, lightly cupping his sac, and caused the most wonderful utterances from him. Lovingly, he stroked the crown of her head and begged her softly not to stop.