by Sandra Heath
He didn’t stir as she bent over to kiss his thigh. Her yearning fingers moved gently between his legs, sliding richly into the moist forest of hair that grew there. Desire kindled irresistibly through her as she kissed his thigh again. Still he did not stir. Her hand crept to touch his dormant maleness. How soft and quiescent it was, how immeasurably inviting...
She kissed it, and then moved her lips gently to the tip, toying with it with her tongue before taking it fully into her mouth. She trembled with excitement and desire as she stole an intimacy of which he knew nothing.
But he soon awoke as arousal began to flood into him, and he arched with pleasure as her tongue and lips made free with his willing body.
“You take shameless liberties, madam,” he whispered, “but tonight I intend to be the master.”
Before she knew it, he’d rolled her quickly onto her back, and was straddling her, pinning her arms back as he smiled down into her eyes. “You’re a very forward hussy, Lady Deveril,” he murmured.
“Fie, sir, for I am but an innocent,” she whispered seductively.
“Are you, indeed? Then I must teach you how to be a little wicked,” he breathed, bending his head to kiss her parted lips.
For a fleeting moment she glanced toward the mirror, but when she saw her future self had gone, she gave herself up to his lovemaking.
Copyright © 1996 by Sandra Heath
Originally published by Signet (0451187520)
Electronically published in 2012 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.