by Lyndi Lamont
“I just have one question.”
“What is it, love?”
“Do you expect us to try every one of those positions? I’m not sure I can manage some of them.”
“I understand it takes a lot of practice, but we have a lifetime for that.”
She smiled at him, a teasing glint in her eye. “Then we’d better get started.”
He crushed her to him, his hands on her bum as she twined her arms around his neck. She pulled his head down and kissed him, sucking on his lower lip, then she darted her tongue into his mouth. She learned fast, his Lydia. His cock hardened and lengthened as his tongue dueled with hers.
Moving one hand to his waistband, he untied his pajamas, let them drop to the floor and stepped out of them. He broke the kiss long enough to strip his top over her head, revealing her long, lush body. “I love that you’re so tall.”
She looked surprised. “Really? I thought men preferred petite, doll-like creatures.”
He shrugged. “Some do, I suppose, but if you were shorter, we wouldn’t be able to try the Suspended Congress.”
“You mean make love standing up?”
He grinned. “I’m game to try if you are.”
She laughed and trailed her hands down his torso. His cock jerked when she took it in her hand. “Whatever you desire, husband.”
He growled and pulled her hands to his shoulders, then kissed her, hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, showing her what he longed to do to her body. One hand on her bum, he used the other to probe her yoni, finding it slick and ready. He teased the tender flesh, seeking the hard nub of her clitoris, the source of her pleasure. Using his thumb to tease it, he slipped one finger, then another inside her, stretching her inner channel. As he pressed against her flesh, moving from side to side, he felt her muscles clamp around his fingers and her hips bucked into his hand. He eased his fingers from inside her and caressed her pussy.
“Ready?” His voice was harsh, his breathing rapid.
Her response was incoherent, but he understood. Bracing his back against the wall, he spread his legs and bent his knees a bit until he could trace her wet slit with the tip of his rod. She hooked one leg around his, making it easier for him to enter her. Hands on her hips, he entered her. She clung to him, swaying with each thrust of his cock. They moved in unison, each taking and receiving pleasure, until he could hold back no longer. He spilled his seed into her with a harsh groan. Before his contractions ceased, she came too with a shuddering cry.
He leaned against the wall, Lydia resting against his body, and waited for his breathing to return to normal. When it did, he kissed the top of her head where it lay on his shoulder. “I love you.”
She wrapped her arms around him tighter. “I love you, too, Evan.”
“So you’re no longer angry at me for making love to you by the book?”
A giggle burbled from her throat and she looked up at him, her face full of mischief. “No, I’m beginning to think it a splendid idea.”
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Then shall we return to bed and try again? There has to be an easier position.”
She moved to the desk, grabbed the book, and darted out of the room. Evan ran after her, eager to please his new bride in every way.
“If men and women act according to each other’s liking, their love for each other will not be lessened even in one hundred years.” —The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana
Watch for Harry’s story, How To Woo… A Wealthy Widow, coming in 2013!
About the Author
Lyndi Lamont is the racy alter ego of romance author Linda McLaughlin. Writing sexy stories gives her a license to be naughty, at least between the pages of her books! She has written several full-length novels plus numerous short stories and novellas, ranging from historical to futuristic. She believes that love is unending and universal, and enjoys transporting her readers into a different world where her characters learn that, in the journey of life, love is the sweetest reward.
Connect online:
Linda McLaughlin
Lyndi Lamont
Blog
Twitter
And if you enjoyed How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride, please consider posting a review at the site where you bought the book.
Other Titles by Lyndi Lamont
Alliance: Clandestine Desire
Alliance: Cosmic Scandal
Alliance: Diplomatic Relations
Alliance: Fertile Ground
Alliance: Galactic Affairs
Alliance: Stellar Romance
Dare All For Love
Deception
Desperado
Finding Jason
Good Vibrations
Ilona’s Wolf
Lily And The Gambler
Lusty Liaisons
Maroone
Painting Penelope
Prepare To Be Boarded
Seducing The Enemy
Sex, Lies & Real Estate
By Linda McLaughlin
Lady Elinor’s Escape
Rogue’s Hostage
By Lyn O’Farrell
Worth The Risk
Bonus Material
If you’d like more Historical Romance, check out this excerpt from:
A Marquess for Christmas
By Vivienne Westlake
Regency Erotic Romance
When Violet Laurens is accosted on the road by thieves, a handsome stranger comes to her rescue. He is badly injured and doesn’t remember who he is, so she takes him home and cares for him. But the closer they become, the more Violet fears the inevitable moment when he must leave her.
The Marquess of Kittrick has vowed not to marry, despite his family’s wishes. He wants nothing to do with prim and proper young ladies, even a beautiful widow who makes him question all of his previous assumptions.
Every touch, every glance between them builds a passion that neither can deny—or control. But when Kit is no longer able to hide his identity, will he sacrifice his pride and claim Violet as his own? Or will he return to his dissolute ways and destroy the fragile love he never believed he could find?
A Marquess for Christmas
“He still sleeps fitfully, my lady.” Avery put his hand to the man’s head. “A little warm. We should get some ice and keep his temperature down.”
“And you have checked his bandages?” The bleeding had stopped, but the chance of infection was high. She stood by the four poster bed, looking down at her savior, who lay still and quiet, despite the people in the room.
“Yes, the wound is not healed, but neither is it as gruesome as it was yesterday.”
“And he has not awoken?”
“He tosses and murmurs and has managed the chamber pot a couple of times, but he does not speak and his eyes are glazed and unfocused.”
It had been two days since the incident. She prayed it was the laudanum keeping him so dazed and not his injury. But they could not be sure yet.
“If he does not awaken in the next day or two, we shall have to fetch Doctor Littleton. For now, let us keep him cool and make sure that someone checks on him every hour.”
Violet went to the window and opened it. The sky was cloudy and the ground covered with a thin layer of snow. “The fresh, cool air should do him good.” She rang the bell then went back to the bed and sat down. The man’s hands felt hot under hers, but she raised them to her cheek to be sure. Definitely too warm.
“My lady?” Miriam entered the room.
“Go and fetch some ice please. If there’s no ice, send a footman outside and gather snow. We need to keep him cool until his fever breaks.”
She leaned over to the small bedside table, dipped a cloth into a small ceramic basin, and wrung it out. “I will see to him for a while, Avery.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you.”
Gently, she took the cloth and wiped the man’s face, always conscious of the bandage. She hummed as she worked. It was a very old song that she’d learned as a girl. Sometimes her mother wou
ld sing it as she stitched.
“Come live with me and be my love and we will all the pleasures prove. The hill and valley, dale and field, and all the craggy mountains yield.”
She washed his arms, noting each twist and turn of muscle. She even tested it with her finger to see if it was as firm as it appeared. Nothing about him was soft— except for his lips and the silky threads of his hair.
She brushed the towel over his neck and down to the exposed skin at the opening of his tunic. The hair there was thin and fine. She couldn’t help but stare as she swept over his chest. His nipples were wide, but tightened into little nubs when she touched them.
What would it feel like to run her palms over them? Would they react to her as they did to the damp cloth? What about her mouth?
Violet turned away and blushed. She closed her eyes and willed herself to remember him fighting off the thief and the moment when he’d taken the fateful blow. She needed to focus on her task and not on the yearnings she felt for a man she barely knew.
She might be fantasizing about a man of base morals or a man with a wife and four children. Or, what if he was a clergyman? That she doubted considering his skill with weapons and his readiness to fight, but what gentleman would watch an innocent woman get attacked by thieves and not come to her rescue?
A man does what needs must. Even a man of the cloth will take up a pistol if his life or his country demanded it. She had seen boys barely old enough to carry a gun with gaping holes in their chest and villages ravaged and burned in the war.
And this man would die like the rest, if she did not do her duty to him. He’d saved her and now she must do the same for him.
With such thoughts distracting her, she didn’t realize she’d paused her singing until she heard a low, gravelly voice.
“Sing.”
She looked down to see dark eyes watching her.
“You are awake!”
“Sing,” he repeated, but he’d barely finished the word when a ragged cough took over his body.
“A belt of straw and ivy buds, with coral clasps and amber studs, and if these pictures may thee move, come live with me and—”
“Be my love.” His voice was hoarse, even more than she expected for someone who’d slept for two days. She lifted from the bed to pour water from the pitcher into a cup.
When she lifted the cup to his lips, he coughed and it dribbled down his chin. “Easy.” They tried again, but still, most of the water ended up down his chest. His tunic absorbed the excess liquid and clung tightly to his body, so she could see every line and curve. His nipples hardened again.
“Let me try this another way,” she said. This time, she dipped her fingers into the cup and let the water drip into his mouth.
He opened wide for more. She leaned closer, her bosom near his face, and poured more water from her fingers.
After the third time, he put her two fingers to his lips and sucked them. A flash of heat shot through her limbs. If she’d been standing, she would have faltered and lost her balance.
His mouth was hot and she suspected it had little to do with his fever.
“More,” he whispered. He stared at her and she could not move, could not speak.
There was a knock behind them and that jolted her out of her frozen state. Miriam stood in the doorway with ice and more water. The man groaned.
She motioned for the maid to come in. As soon as the girl was close, Violet took a tiny chip of ice and put it in the man’s mouth.
The ice would help his thirst, but she also was afraid for him to speak. The need in his eyes was too real, too close to the desire that she felt. But he was a stranger. A beautiful, dark, bewitching stranger who had risked his life for her, yet she knew almost nothing about him.
A fact that she could remedy. No. What was she thinking? He was wounded, disoriented, and who knows if he mistook her for his wife or some mistress. A sharp pang twisted in her gut. Did he have a mistress? She’d already considered that he could be married, but she hadn’t thought about the possibility of a mistress.
He was a virile, handsome man with a body any sculptor would worship and carve into stone. She’d seen it all, every wicked inch of him. The thought of that body being pleasured by some other woman made her ill.
“Do you or the gentleman need anything else, my lady?”
“Perhaps the cook has some broth. But please make sure it is tepid, not hot.”
Miriam set down the tray of ice and curtsied before exiting the room.
He rubbed his temples, then when Miriam was gone, he turned back to her. Though he whispered the word, “Water,” his eyes said something else.
She plopped another ice sliver into his mouth. He sucked on it, watching her still. She felt a flush run down from her ears to her belly. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought his fever was catching.
A foolish part of her longed to demand if he had a mistress, but she bit her lip. That was not the first question she should ask him. And, he was so weak, it was better if he didn’t speak at all.
She put her hand to his mouth. “Do not try to speak, sir. You are weary and hoarse.”
He opened his mouth and before he could argue, she fed him another ice chip.
“You have a fever and you need to rest.”
His forehead was still warm. It could be a long night if his fever didn’t break. But he was at least alert for now, which was a good sign.
She stood up, intending to move aside the blankets and leave him with the sheet, but he reached for her arm.
“Don’t.” Under his stare, she froze again. “Do not. Leave.” Though the words were gravelly and low, it was a command, not a plea.
“Very well.”
She pulled aside the blankets, careful not to touch his thighs, and moved a chair close to the bed. The mere foot of space between her seat and the bed seemed much farther. Every little movement made her aware of the hard chair beneath her and the cool air brushing over her skin.
She missed the heat of his body next to hers.
Vivienne’s website
If you enjoy Contemporary Romantic Comedy, you might enjoy:
Worth The Risk
by
Lyn O’Farrell
Children’s librarian Amanda Lloyd values privacy above all else. Three years ago her wedding ended in disaster when her groom was arrested at the altar and the story of the ‘Embezzler’s Bride’ appeared in the supermarket tabloids. The experience has left her determined to avoid being caught in the public eye again. Until she meets a sexy single dad with a scandalous past.
Ex-race car driver Mitch Delaney is a public figure whose life has been plastered across the tabloids more than once. But he believes that anything worth doing is worth a risk. After the death of his ex-wife, he moved to Southern California to take care of his son Josh. He doesn’t need the complication of a woman in his life, especially since Josh’s grandparents have filed suit for custody. But Josh is on the hunt for a new mother and he has his heart set on Miss Amanda, and Mitch can’t fault his son’s taste.
For more information, go to: Worth the Risk
Table of Contents
Chapter 1, Engagement
Chapter 2, Courtship
Chapter 3, Consummation
Chapter 4, Revelation
About the Author
Bonus Material