Heiress in Red Silk, Hunter, Madeline [good beach reads TXT] 📗

He would like to see her face a while longer, for one thing. She appeared peaceful and happy. Contented. That heartened him. He knew a lot about pleasure, but his partners had never been like Rosamund. His lessons came from the brothels of London and Paris. He realized that this was the first visit when he had not sought out the expertise found in Paris’s best houses. That was a part of this city he normally looked forward to.

Rosamund’s delight in the bed even now, luxuriating in how their bodies still touched and the pillows created a soft nest, made him wonder if this was new to her, along with several other things tonight. Perhaps that scoundrel had only taken her quickly, up against walls or on attic floors. As a servant, she could not show up at his chamber door, the way she had come to this one tonight. She would dare not dally in bed with him afterward.

She moved so she could prop her chin on his bare chest and look in his eyes. “You never told me about your conversation with Monsieur Forestier after I left the dinner.”

“It can wait for the morning.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You have never been good at dissembling. I can tell it is not good news just from looking in your eyes.”

“Nonsense. This is not the moment for business, that is all.”

She laughed softly and pecked a kiss on his chest. “You are charming in your own, odd way. You must know that if you want me to agree to something about that business, this is the most excellent moment.”

“There is nothing to agree to. Hence—” He shrugged.

A frown puckered her brow.

He flipped her onto her back on the mound of pillows she had created. Propped along her side, he slid down the sheet so he could see her breasts. He caressed around their fullness and watched her frown disappear.

“It was much the same as before,” he said. “Two changes, and not to my—our benefit.”

“What are they?”

“It is up to ten thousand now. Also, there is someone else ready to pay it at week’s end if we do not.”

“The thief.”

He glossed his palm over her tight nipples. “It is his invention. I think the door only remained open because he enjoyed your company. However, it can’t be done. As agreed, we will go forward without it.”

She seemed not to be listening now. Eyes closed, she enjoyed the pleasure he gave her. Her back arched so her breasts rose for more. He lowered his head and flicked his tongue lightly.

“How much do you have?” Her question came on a breathless murmur.

He had to forcibly divert his mind from where it now dwelled in order to find the answer. “Three thousand immediately. Five by June. That’s when a trust pays out.” He cast those words aside even as he spoke them. He didn’t give a damn about that right now. He sucked at one breast while his fingers teased the other. Every sweet sigh she made caused him to get harder.

“I have the rest. We could do this.”

Her response came as little more than sounds between begging moans. When he finally realized what she had said, he looked at her, astonished.

Her eyes remained closed, but a catlike smile formed. “Don’t stop now. You promised no half measures.”

He pulled her atop him and sat her up so he could see how she gave herself over to the sensations while he caressed her. Her lovely face, softened by her arousal and half obscured by her long hair, became an image of ecstasy. With lips parted and head lolling, her lids rose a tiny amount and glistening blue eyes looked down at what he was doing.

He resettled her and urged her down so her breasts hovered above his face. He used his hands and mouth until she trembled. He reached between her thighs and caressed her until cries of madness made his hunger raw. Lifting her hips, he entered slowly, and allowed the torture to turn exquisite.

She looked down at him, her expression dazed and a little confused. Then she nestled lower so he filled her, and shifted just enough to blind him for an instant.

She looked around at how they were joined. She moved again. “So it’s my turn?”

“I’ll help.”

“How?”

“You’ll see.”

She rose, then slid back down. “It’s different. It still feels wonderful, but also changed.”

“They all are.”

“All?”

“All the ways of doing this. Each feels different in its own way.”

She rose again, but shifted when she came down so that he felt her distinctly, like a hard, velvet stroke.

“Oh, you liked that. I can tell. This is fun.” Once again, she experimented.

He gritted his teeth so she could play longer if she wanted, but he was close to ending the game. Fortunately, her own desire made her quicken the pace. She closed her eyes and found her own pleasure by creating deep thrusts and wicked rubs. She rode him like a wild woman, throwing back her head and hair, gasping when a move sent her higher.

He slid his hand between their bodies, so he could touch her near where they joined. As soon as he did, she lost all control. She cried out again and again with increasingly desperate pleas. Then she squirmed against him hard and tensed as the desperation gave way to wonder.

He pulled her down on him and held her hips while he took over, thrusting hard and long while he climbed to a soul-splitting finish.

Chapter Fifteen

Rosamund descended the stairs, dressed for the day. She and Kevin had agreed to meet in the hotel garden for a petit déjeuner.

She had gone to sleep feeling like a new woman. She had awoken much herself, but still changed. As she sought out the garden, she acknowledged that she had not thought about Charles more than two or three times while she dressed. The dull ache that emerged with those memories passed soon enough too.

She didn’t feel at all guilty for her inconstancy. Nor for her wantonness