Forbidden Pleasures

by Bertrice Small

  She stared hard into the mirror. Her breasts were nice. Small, but perfectly rounded. Her hips were a little wide, but they were nicely curved, and her thighs, thanks to her regimen at the Awe-some Woman gym, were slender. She peered over her shoulder at her butt. Fleshy, but firm and shapely. Okay, so she wasn’t a model, but she had a nice body. He’d either like it or he wouldn’t. But it didn’t make any difference as long as she could get him to seduce her so she could then write about sexual encounters, and know what the hell she was really talking about.

  She wondered how many times she would have to do it with him. Would once be enough? What if they had to do it more than once, and he didn’t like the way she did it, and he wouldn’t continue? Well, then she would simply go to her duke. Hadn’t he implied that once she lost her virginity he was there to take over for Devlin? Maybe not exactly, but she had understood that once she had experienced passion in her own reality, it could also be there for her in the reality of the Channel.

  But how was she ever going to seduce Michael Devlin? He was very sophisticated, and his reputation was that of a man who chose his own women, made his own decisions. All the books she had showing in copious and colorful detail the sexual encounter, the positions, and how they could be done offered nothing on how to get a man to do them. What had Savannah said? “Throw yourself on his mercy”? “You’re just his type”? Emily wouldn’t have thought an urbane guy like Devlin would look seriously at her twice. But then, maybe he was bored with his elegant and worldly women. Maybe. Just maybe a little country girl who needed his help would appeal to him. Could she pull it off without making a complete fool of herself? Well, she was going to find out soon enough. Picking up her sleep shirt from the chair where she had put it earlier, Emily slipped it on, wondering if she should maybe go down to Lacy Nothings in the village tomorrow and pick out something sexier in which to be seduced. Or would that be much too patent? A soft old cotton sleep shirt was hardly the garment in which to be seduced. She’d wager his women all wore elegant silk-and-lace lingerie when they bedded Mick Devlin. But wouldn’t it look obvious if she did? As if she were expecting him to make love to her? Undecided, Emily climbed into her bed. She was in a dreamless sleep before she even knew it. It had been a long, hard day. And it was surely going to get harder before it got easier.

  CHAPTER THREE

  He wasn’t sure if it was the smell of the coffee or the cinnamon rolls baking that had awakened him first. He had been lying on his belly. Turning lazily over onto his back, he sniffed appreciatively. The big tall clock in the upstairs hall began to chime. Nine o’clock. He looked across the room toward the window, and saw the day was fair. And for some reason he found that, unlike most Saturdays, he wasn’t the least bit sleepy. He had slept like a damned log the entire night through. Michael Devlin climbed out of bed, peed, brushed his teeth, shaved, and got dressed. Then he headed directly downstairs toward the delicious smells coming from Emily Shanski’s kitchen.

  “Damnation!” Emily dropped the pan she was taking from the oven quickly onto the counter, and flung the towel in her hand into the sink.

  He was at her side before she even realized he was there, taking her hand and sticking it under cold running water. “It’s not bad. What happened?”

  “I almost forgot the rolls, and instead of taking an oven mitt I grabbed a towel,” Emily replied. She turned her head to say thank you, and found herself nose-to-nose with him. Her blue eyes widened with surprise, and then he kissed her.

  Her lips were incredibly soft, and she smelled of sweet rolls and lilacs. He slid an arm about her waist, and his kiss deepened as he felt her yielding against him. What was happening? He groaned and let her go. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, stepping back a pace.

  “Why not?” she asked him, suddenly knowing she had to take the initiative. For all his reputation Devlin was a gentleman. His kiss had been wonderful! She had never before been kissed quite like that. It was fierce and tender all rolled into one.

  “I think we both know the answer to that, Emily,” he replied stiffly.

  “Sit down, Devlin,” she told him, already pouring him a mug of coffee, and gestured toward the kitchen table. “Have a sweet roll, and let’s discuss the fact that we seem to be attracted to each other.” God in His heaven! Had she really said that? The look of surprise on his face told her she had.

  “I’m your editor,” he replied.

  “And Savannah Banning tells me you’re a very good one,” Emily answered him. “Why should the fact that we’re being drawn to each other change that?”

  “You know Lady Palmer?” he asked her.

  “We go way back,” Emily said. “I was her witness when she and Sir Reginald went to the registry office seven years ago. I’m the Honorable William’s godmother.”

  He nodded, surprised. It had never occurred to him that Emily Shanski would know the beautiful and flamboyant Savannah Banning. And God knew what the gossipy Lady Palmer had said about him. “More than a business relationship between us would be inappropriate,” he tried to explain, but he sensed she knew that.

  “Oh, piffle!” Emily responded. She plunked a roll on his plate and pushed it and the butter toward him. “Do you want to sleep with me?” In for a penny, in for a pound, she decided. She didn’t have a whole lot of time, after all, and a sexy, hot Defiant Duchess was due to Stratford at the end of December.

  He choked on the bit of roll in his mouth, his face growing red, coughing. “Water!” he gasped, jumping up. She got it for him. Swallowing it, he managed to regain what he hoped would pass for composure. “You’re joking, of course,” he said.

  “Are you amused?” she countered dryly. Her blue eyes were actually dancing with merriment, and her lips twitched, as if she wanted to burst into laughter at him.

  The little witch was enjoying his discomfiture quite thoroughly, he thought. What would happen if he called her bluff? he wondered. Would she fall into his arms, or run shrieking from her sunny kitchen? Michael Devlin didn’t liked being played for a fool, and he always made it a point to be the one who initiated any sexual encounter. But this was just too good to resist. If he was ever going to have any credibility with his writer, he had to make damned certain from the start that Emily knew who was the boss.

  “As a matter of fact,” he told her, looking down into those big cornflower-blue eyes, “I don’t want to sleep with you, Emily Shanski. Let’s tell it like it really is. I want to fuck you. I’ve wanted to since I first saw you. It is totally inappropriate for us to get involved, but I’ve never been a man to play entirely by the rules. If you’re game, so am I,” Devlin said wickedly. He almost laughed aloud at the look of surprise on her face. He had shocked the adorable Miss Shanski with his rather blunt and crude language.

  Emily swallowed hard, and worked to feign an imperturbability she was far from feeling. “All right,” she finally said. “Then we’ll do it tonight.” Her pulse pounded.

  “Oh, no, angel face,” he responded, surprised, but not about to let her get the upper hand. “I don’t play that way. No appointments for you and me. I like spontaneity. I think now is as good a time as any to begin our little adventure, don’t you?” Standing away from the table, he moved toward her, his mouth twitching with his amusement.

  “It’s morning!” Emily protested, taking a step back.

  “Haven’t you ever done it in the daylight, angel face? It’s just as much fun. Sometimes even better, because there is always the chance someone will come in and discover you getting your ears fucked off on your well-scrubbed oak kitchen table.” His green eyes glittered as he moved closer and closer to where she now stood.

  Emily backed away again, eyes wide. People made love on kitchen tables? She didn’t know whether she should be shocked or intrigued. She swallowed hard once more and said coolly, “I far prefer the comfort of a bed, Devlin, and I’m not interested in voyeurism. It’s vulgar, and speaks badly of the couple involved.” There! That should set
him back on his heels—she hoped. What was she getting herself into? she suddenly wondered. Was this a good idea? Maybe she should just rent some X-rated videos.

  “Very well,” he drawled. “Your room or mine? And yes, now!”

  “Now is not the best time,” Emily said, gasping as he suddenly reached out and pulled her into his arms. God, he smelled so good!

  “Are you a cock tease, Emily?” he asked her softly, taking her hand and pressing it against his groin. “That’s not nice, you know.”

  Her fingers moved involuntarily against the hard ridge pressing against his jeans. “Oh,” she half whispered. His penis was very hard beneath her hand.

  “If you want to stop, Emily, this is the time. Keep touching me like that and there will be no going back for either of us,” he warned her. He nuzzled her hair. It was soft.

  She didn’t know what to say. Had she come too far to cut and run? Coward, the voice in her head said. You want knowledge, and you have the chance to obtain it.

  Okay! Okay! I’ll do it, damn it, she said to that irritating voice. She looked up at Devlin, her lips half parted, wondering what was going to come next.

  His hand caressed then cupped her face. The green eyes searched her face. “Emily?” he asked, his voice rough. Devlin was shocked by the incredible reaction he was having to her. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her, make her scream and beg him for everything he could give her. And then he would give her more and more until they were both so weak and exhausted they couldn’t move for another day. What was it about this woman that was making him feel this way? He barely knew her, but then, that had never been a hindrance to his lusts. And she seemed to feel the same way, yet there was a shyness, an innocence about her that made him want to be gentle. “Emily?” he repeated. “Yes or no?”

  “Yes.” She half whispered the word. This wasn’t at all what she had expected, she thought as he led her upstairs and into his bedroom. Where were the candles flickering in the soft evening breezes? The roses to perfume the air? This wasn’t romantic at all. It was raw and primal, but to her own surprise she knew it was what she wanted from him. They weren’t in love. She needed a man to take her virginity, and then show her everything she needed to know if she was going to write that explicitly sexy novel Stratford wanted out of her. This was research. Research to ensure authenticity. Research so she could save her career. Hell! An editor was supposed to help a writer. The sound of the bedroom door closing snapped her back to reality.

  “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?” he asked her gently. “We both want this, don’t we, Emily?” He was giving her an opportunity to stop this madness.

  She nodded. She knew what was to come, because she had read enough in this past week about the sexual situation, but she was shaking inside, and afraid that if she spoke her voice would give her away. Then he might not do it. She had been wearing a yellow cotton tee. He pulled it up over her head and arms, laying it aside on the chair.

  “I like your taste in scanties,” he said with a small smile, fingering the top of the lacy little bra she was wearing. “Now let’s see how this opens. Ah, the front.” He unhooked the garment and slid it off over her shoulders, tossing it to where the tee lay. “Oh, Emily,” he said softly, staring at her breasts. “How lovely these are.” Reaching out he cupped a single breast in his palm. She had small, pointed pink nipples.

  What was she supposed to do? Emily wondered frantically. Well, she was certainly beginning to understand the necessity of practical experience. Her books did not cover anything like this. It would seem she should begin undressing him. Her fingers fumbled with the small buttons on his sports shirt. Getting them all open, she pushed the shirt from his broad shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. Her fingers splayed out over his broad chest. His skin was soft, but he was hard beneath. In one of her books she had seen the woman kiss the man’s nipples. Bending her head, she did so now.

  His hands were now undoing her jeans, and he lifted her from the pile of denim. “For a proper miss you wear very sensuous panties,” he told her, eyeing the silk bikini bottom, amused.

  “They match the bra,” she said low. “Pretty undergarments are my one vice,” Emily told him. Her hands imitated his, and she undid his jeans, thrusting them down over his lean hips. “Oh!” she gasped, surprised. “You don’t wear...” Her voice died.

  “No, I don’t,” he said. “And from now on I don’t want you to either. No bra. No panties when you are with me. I want you ready whenever I want you, Emily. And you will be a very good girl and do what I tell you, won’t you?” He tipped her face up to his even as he ripped the lace-and-silk bikini from her body. Then his hand slipped quickly between her legs to cup her mons.

  Emily caught her breath, surprised. “No underwear?” she managed to say.

  “When I want to fuck you, angel face, I don’t want to have to waste the time pulling off your clothes that I could spend making us both happy,” he told her.

  “Do you treat all your women this way, Devlin?” She could not lose control of this situation. Oh, God, his hand was so warm. He fingered the curls of her pubic area and she couldn’t contain the shiver that ran up her spine.

  “Are you a good girl or a bad girl?” he asked her. His tongue began to harry her small ear. “I think you might be a bad girl under all that propriety.”

  “I don’t know what I am, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me afterward,” she said spiritedly. “I already know you’re a bad boy, Devlin.” She was naked in the arms of a naked man. And she still had the ability to carry on a conversation? What in the name of heaven would her grandmothers think of her? Well, at least she wasn’t Katy.

  “Like all writers, you talk too much,” he said, and then he kissed her mouth hard. His tongue ran suggestively along her lips, and instinctively she opened them, allowing him entry. Their tongues curled about each other.

  He had pulled her against him. Their naked bodies were touching, and the sensation was very exciting. Was this what was called a French kiss? she asked herself as their tongues began to caress each other. Not bad, and his breath tasted of mint and coffee. She let her tongue stroke his.

  He pushed her back onto the bed. Her butt was on the mattress, but her legs were dangling over. Then he knelt and, lifting her legs up, rested them over his shoulders. What was he doing? He pulled her legs apart, and his dark head dove between them.

  Emily squealed with surprise, almost fainting with shock when she felt him open her labia and begin to lick a part of her flesh she had never anticipated would be touched by another’s tongue. Vaguely she recalled seeing pictures of a man between a woman’s legs in her books, but she never knew exactly what was happening. Well, she did now! “Oh, God!” His tongue had touched her clitoris, and it was incredibly sensitive. The tongue flicked relentlessly back and forth over that rosebud of flesh. She was almost unconscious with the pleasure his tongue was giving her. She shivered once, twice. “Please,” she said. “Please!” She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted, but she wanted something.

  He stopped, disentangling himself from her slender limbs.

  “No!” she said, shocked by her own reaction. “No!”

  Laughing, he pulled her up, giving her a kiss. “That’s how you taste, Emily, and you are delicious.” Then he sat quickly down on the bed, yanking her over his knee, and gave her bottom three quick, hard spanks. “I figured you for a bad girl, angel face. Let’s be bad together now.” He stood for a moment again, and then pushed her back onto the bed. “Those darling little tits of yours need some loving attention,” he told her. Flinging himself next to her, he lowered his dark head and closed his mouth over one of her nipples. “Ummm,” he said. “Almost, but not quite as tasty as your sweet cunny.”

  Oh, Lord, Emily thought. Her books had certainly not prepared her for all of this. What else didn’t they show her? She had to do something herself to prove to him that she was enjoying their encounter. “Hey, give me a turn!” she said and, pulling away
from him, began to kiss his nipples. Boldly she licked them and then let her tongue move down his torso as far as his belly button. His pubic hair was thickly curled, and the color of midnight. And his penis... For a moment she was frightened. The men in the picture books she had didn’t have penises like that. He seemed far bigger. Thicker. Longer.

  “Don’t take me in your mouth.” Devlin groaned. “I want to come inside you this first time, angel face. Do you have any condoms? I didn’t quite expect this.”

  “No,” Emily said, shaking her head.

  “It’s all right. I’ve been tested. I’m fine. How ’bout you? You’re on the pill?”

  “Uh-huh,” she lied, suspecting he’d stop if she told him the truth: that she wasn’t on the pill because she didn’t need it. That she had never before had sex.

  He pulled her up and on top of him, rubbing his penis between her thighs. Then suddenly he rolled Emily over, spreading her thighs wide, fitting himself between them. He took her face between his big hands. “I never wanted a woman so quickly before,” he told her. “What is this magic about you, Emily Shanski?” Then he kissed her slowly.

  It was the most sensual kiss she had ever imagined. His mouth was warm and seductive against hers. She felt as if her bones were melting as his lips worked against hers. Still, Emily was very, very aware he was positioning himself to enter her. She tensed, surprised when he immediately noticed.

  “I’ll go slow this first time,” he told her. “I want to ram myself home, I’m so damned hot for you, angel face. But I want you to always remember the first time Mick Devlin fucked you.” The head of his penis pushed gently into her vagina barely an inch. “Do you know how hard it is for me to be patient? You are so tight, angel face, and so ready for me.” He kissed her again, moving himself another tiny distance.