Her Gilded Prison (Daughters of Sin 1)

Gently he eased her thighs apart. She felt the probing tip of his member and suddenly she was very afraid.

Soon he’d fill her with himself but the sheathing would change her in ways she could never have imagined. She foresaw this and stiffened with the knowledge of how much her actions ran counter to the natural order of things.

And yet did they?

Stephen was looking down at her. In the depths of his eyes she saw the effort his self-restraint cost him, followed by the curve of his smile as he whispered, suddenly relaxing beside her, “I think we’re going just a little too quickly, Lady Partington. This one’s for you.”

Then his clever, deft fingers were coaxing her into sensations she’d never experienced, filling her mind with soaring hopes and her body with rapture as he stroked the slick nub of her desire.

Heat prickled the back of her neck and her scalp, sensation journeyed to her nerve endings and she closed her eyes against the kaleidoscope of color that filled her vision.

His words were soothing and tender as he softly encouraged her to do nothing more than enjoy what he could do for her.

What no one had ever done for her.

She swallowed and drew in a staccato breath as the tension rose within her, both terrifying and exhilarating and hitherto completely unknown.

Stephen kissed her—on her lips, nose, eyelids and brow—as his clever fingers continued to stimulate her. When she opened her eyes briefly his smile was warm before he touched his lips to hers, tracing the seam with the tip of his tongue. With a shuddering sigh she surrendered to the next wave of pleasure that engulfed her. Her body had been taken to a higher plane, dragging her mind with it, and awareness coalesced as, with mind and body finally as one, she prepared for the inevitable launch into the abyss.

“Surrender to it.” The warmth of Stephen’s breath seeped through her, giving her courage and permission to do just that and her body moaned its delight as it opened itself up to the first man who’d ever wanted to give it pleasure.

As she lay gasping in the aftermath, cradled against Stephen’s warm, hard body, she realized that he truly had meant what he said. This had all been for her.

She opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her. “I can send you on another journey like that one, Lady Partington,” he whispered, playing with her nipple, sending messages directly to her groin. “And this time go along for the ride, but if you want to change your mind, I must remind you it’s your last chance. If you beget a child you’ll have your husband to answer to and your actions will change the course of the succession. Are you prepared to take responsibility for that? I’m in it for the pleasure only, Lady Partington. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

She swallowed, wriggled a little in order to push her entrance against his pulsing cock and in that faintest of movement sealed the fates of all of them.

Stephen chuckled and got down to business. She was all soft curves, a disarming mixture of naivety and wisdom. She knew so much more of the world than he, of the disappointments and the cruelties people inflicted on one another, yet he could show her how much pure lust and pleasure could go in salving those wounds.

In mere weeks he’d be back to wooing innocent virgins with handsome dowries. Twined in the arms of sweet Lady Partington was novelty like he’d not known.

Pure, unadulterated fun—or rather pure adultery, he supposed—like he’d not expected when he’d responded to her extraordinary proposition.

Once she’d cast aside her inhibitions and accepted responsibility for her actions she burst out of her chrysalis with the abandon of a butterfly joyfully taking flight.

Oh, he was going to enjoy taking her on the flight of her life.

Every thrust brought an increase in the breathiness of her response, the breadth of her smile, the unequivocal enjoyment she took in accepting all of him. He was not used to such unfettered delight. The gratification alone spurred him on.

He loved the way her breasts quivered and her cheeks went pink. Her glorious hair was spread out over her pillow like a shawl of the finest fiber and her skin was surprisingly soft and satiny. It was as if her enforced all-but-virginity had preserved her in some odd way. And yet as he rolled her nipple on his tongue and again massaged the slick nub of her sex, he seemed to be bringing her to life from the inside. Her eyes grew brighter and her translucent skin flushed to a deep, rich glow. He thought he’d never seen a more beautiful woman and his desire, which had been borne of pleasure alone, took on a new dimension.

This was not going to be the last time he made love to sweet, adorable, luscious Lady Partington.

Chapter Eight

Humphry looked up over the newspaper, a strange gleam in his eye.

When he said nothing, Sybil shifted in her seat, telling herself yet again that he’d not suspect and even if he did, she had nothing to be ashamed of. Not with regard to Humphry, nor Stephen nor even herself. No, she would not draw him out. Always she had played the dutiful wife, asking him if everything was to his liking. Now he could just read his newspaper or get up and leave without a word if he chose—for he often did that, so consumed was he with thoughts of his absent true love.

Perversely, he didn’t seem to like Sybil’s silence. He dropped his paper and peered closely over it until she asked, almost crossly, looking up from her smoked haddock, “Well, Humphry, have I a fishbone sticking out of my nostril?”

She was irritated with him for disturbing her delicious reminiscing of last night. No, she didn’t feel guilty. She would not.

“My dear, you look...” He struggled to articulate the sentiment. “You look different, somehow.”

“Really.” She would not blush and she’d pretend disinterest. Strange how that seemed to inspire him to speak words she’d never expected to hear.

“You have a glow about you. Really, you look quite lovely this morning.”