Lord Savage
Page 28
“The past doesn’t matter.” I didn’t need to be reminded of the loveless, stultifying life I’d left behind. In my head I’d already begun to divide my life into the time before I’d met Savage, and the time since I’d become his. Impatiently I shrugged my shoulders free of my fur coat, too heated now for either its warmth or its ostentation.
“Seven days together in London,” he said, his voice low. He pushed up the hem of my gown and slid his hand beneath it, roaming higher across my silk stockings and above my jeweled garters to the heated skin of my thigh. “That’s all I offer.”
“That’s all I want,” I said. “You, for seven days, and seven nights.”
“There will be talk, you know.” He pulled me onto his lap, where at once I felt the hard, blunt thrust of his cock through his trousers pushing against my bottom. “It means nothing to me, but to you—”
“Let them talk,” I said, full of bravado. I meant it, too. Considering the dramatic exit we’d just made together from a house party that had included some of the England’s best-bred society, I would be surprised if there wasn’t gossip. I ran my palm across his chest, over the immaculate white linen of his shirt and the hard muscles beneath. “They will anyway.”
“A brave declaration,” he said as if he didn’t believe me. He hooked one finger into the deep neckline of my gown, slowly pulling it down to bare my breasts. I arched toward him, relishing the feel of the silk sliding over my skin. Framed by the red gown and the dark fur, my skin was as pale and luminous as moonlight, and even in the shadows, he must have seen how my nipples were already tight and hard, aching for his touch. “Words may not be the only risk.”
“I told you before,” I said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly to be convincing. “I’m not afraid.”
“You never are, are you?” He was tracing the full underside of one breast with the pad of his thumb and purposefully ignoring my aroused nipple. “Not even when you should be.”
“Savage, if you are trying to—”
“Hush,” he said, pressing his fingertip to my lips. “All I ask is that you do not forget the obvious: that whatever happens between us cannot be undone.”
“I’d never wish that.” Restlessly I parted my legs with a whisper of silk, feeling the smooth wool of his evening trousers against my bare thigh. I was offering myself to him, wanting him to take me there in the car. The speed, the darkness, even the driver on the other side of the glass served only to heighten my desire. With Savage, I was shameless; he’d made me like that.
“But you wish for many other things,” he said, glancing down.
“It’s been hours, Savage,” I said breathlessly. “That dinner was interminable, sitting there beside you and not being able to touch you. I want you now, here. I need you.”
His hand stilled on my breast. “You’re being forward, Eve. Bold, even brazen. That’s not how an Innocent should behave with her master.”
A guilty flush spread over my face, and I was thankful for the half-light in the car that hid it. He was right, of course. How soon I’d forgotten what he’d spent this last week teaching me!
“No, Master,” I murmured, instantly as obedient as he expected me to be, and as I’d come to expect of myself as well. “I forgot, Master.”
“You forgot.” He sighed, cupping my breast in the palm of his hand and running his thumb lightly over my nipple. “You should be punished for being so forgetful.”
“Yes, Master.” I held my breath, not daring to show how much his torturous little caress was affecting me. “I deserve to be punished.”
“The most obvious punishment, of course, would be to deny you what you most crave.” He shoved the hem of my dress over my hips to bare me below the waist. He slipped his fingers through my dark curls to find the opening of my sex, and pushed one thick finger inside. The moisture of my blatant arousal made it easy for him to thrust deeply, finding the place inside me that was most sensitive. I gasped, unable not to, and arched my back to take him deeper.
“There,” he said, his voice growing rougher. “That’s what you crave, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Master,” I said, the two words breaking along with my self-control.
“Yes,” he repeated, adding a second finger to stretch and stroke my swollen, greedy passage. “Yet if I were to deny you this, then I would also be punishing myself.”
“Yes, Master,” I said, my sex tightening around his fingers. “That is, no, Master, you do not deserve the same punishment as I.”
“What a perceptive Innocent you are, Eve,” he said, his own breath growing ragged. “You’ve redeemed your earlier impulsiveness.”
“Thank—thank you, Master,” I whispered, my body trembling, taut and straining for the release that he was building within me. From experience I knew he could keep me poised here on the torturous edge as long as he wanted to, and I knew, too, that he’d do exactly that if I couldn’t prove myself worthy.
He smiled, a devil’s smile in the half-light. “What would you like as a reward, Eve?”
My fevered quim begged for him to finish what he’d begun, and set me free. But that wasn’t the answer he sought, and if I begged, he’d only deny me more.
“Your reward?” he asked again. “Surely there’s something you would like, something that would please us both.”
“Your—your cock,” I managed to say. “I would like your cock, Master.”
“Exactly.” His smile widened as he drew his fingers from my sex, and I shuddered at the sudden emptiness. “It’s yours to take.”
Quickly I turned on his lap, sitting with my knees on either side of his legs. With shaking fingers I undid the row of black buttons on his trousers, and at last freed his cock: hard and ruddy and as eager for me as I was for it. I pulled my gown over my head, leaving nothing between us except the long strand of pearls he’d given me yesterday. I loved that he was still clothed with such formality, while I was not.
With a kind of reverence, I took his cock, heavy and hot and hard as granite, in my hands, and he groaned at my touch. Bracing one hand on his shoulder to steady myself against the swaying motion of the car, I poised to lower myself onto his cock, rubbing my honey-sweet on its head and prolonging this last delicious moment of anticipation for us both.
“Now, Eve,” he ordered harshly. “Now.”
And with a shuddering sigh, I sank down and took him as deeply as I could.…
Copyright © 2015 by Mia Gabriel
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mia Gabriel is the pseudonym of an award-winning, bestselling author of more than thirty historical romances. She lives with her family in Pennsylvania.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
LORD SAVAGE. Copyright © 2014 by Mia Gabriel. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Danielle Fiorella
Cover photograph © Massimo Listri/Corbis
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-04022-0 (trade paperback)
ISBN 978-1-4668-3546-7 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781466835467
First Edition: September 2014
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