What the Mistress Did
Page 15
Serving the master’s pleasure was never so dangerous…
House of Sin
© 2011 Lacy Danes
Emily’s dreams are simple: a life of dedicated service at a respectable estate, and a strong marriage filled with love and devotion for one man. Portage Place, the manor where her parents apprenticed, seems the perfect place to start. Though it is whispered that all is not as it seems behind its grand façade.
The rumors, it turns out, ring with truth. The halls are saturated with sensuality, desire and lust. Despite the scandalous duties she is asked to perform, she is determined not to stumble on what could be her first step toward her dream. Dreams that, lately, have included the manor’s fiery-haired groomsman.
A promise to watch over his younger half-brother brought Adam to Portage Place. For the first time in five years of enjoying the delights of the manor’s unbridled debauchery, Emily’s innocence touches the protector that still lives deep in his core. This house of sin may have ruined him, but he will see to it that it doesn’t ruin her.
It seems, however, that behind every door lurks a conspiracy to bind Emily in velvet chains of desire. Until the only way out is for Adam to take the biggest risk of all…
Warning: If servants sleeping with servants, who are sleeping with all the peers and guests at the house upset you… you won’t like this book. Contains explicit sex scenes, threesomes and a whole lot more!
Enjoy the following excerpt for House of Sin:
Emily stood outside the kitchen and dry laundry door. The yard before her led to the stable and outbuildings beyond. The sun glowed in the sky as big fluffy clouds waltzed past on the warm breeze. She chewed a scrap of pitted apple that she’d grabbed on her way through the kitchen. The fruit pleasantly soured her mouth.
Not another naughty encounter all morning. Thank goodness. It was past noontime and she had expected to see something… What, she hadn’t an inkling. The normalcy of the day was reassuring and proof her mind had run off with the possibilities.
She inhaled and the smell of sweet rose soap from the laundry filled her nostrils. If she took stock, the morning was filled with accomplishment and calm.
She had pulled linens from the beds, washed them, and now they hung before her, drying on the lines in the floral summer breeze. She would press them when they dried and refit others in the rooms of the master, his sons and the ruby guest room. That was as soon as she found Sibila. Where had she gone? She was uncertain what her next task should be.
She glanced across the white, billowing walls of hanging sheets in the dry laundry and down the rust-colored dirt path, which led to the stone coach house and stalls.
She sighed.
A young man dressed in a green livery long coat and brown breeches crossed the path to the stable with a bucket in hand. His reddish hair curled over his collar. He glanced over his shoulder at her, slowed his pace and fully turned toward her.
Emily froze mid-chew. His green eyes sparkled like a bead of dew caught in the sunlight. Filled with merriment and mirth, he had masculine lips that turned up in a grin and stretched the skin over his square chin.
Her cheeks, filled with apple not yet swallowed, twitched as her lips curved in reply. My, he was handsome. If not for his livery, she’d have taken him for a playful forest sprite. A fiery-haired sprite and an enchanted soul.
He raised his hand and his index finger glided along his lower lip. His tongue slid out and wrapped the tip as long, amber lashes closed over his left eye. He then gestured with his head that she should come with him.
Her heart hammered. He was worth whatever this house was about. She wondered what mischievous, good-natured fun he was headed for. Or did he simply wish her to help with something? She worried her lower lip between her teeth.
He shrugged, turned and continued on his path into the stables, whistling a happy tune.
Sibila stepped out the door past Emily, bringing with her the savory smell of baking apples, cinnamon and tart.
Emily flinched and sucked in a startled breath. Had she been behind her all this time?
“He is handsome, isn’t he?” Sibila turned and glanced over her shoulder. “An amazing futter.”
A futter… Surely not everyone participated in the act with everyone else here. Or did they?
“Follow me, Emily. Learn something.” Sibila’s hips gently swayed as she followed the red earth path of sin to the fiery-haired groomsman in the barn.
Emily stared at the barn door as if through a tunnel. You do want to be introduced to him, so follow her. Emily glanced back at the door to the kitchen. Make haste before the cook sees you!
Emily stepped and her knees wobbled. Her heart pounded. Indeed she wanted to meet him. She inhaled deeply, summoning her fortitude, then gathered up her skirt and ran down the path, across the cobbled drive, to the stable door.
She pressed her back up against the bumpy stone of the barn to the right of the door and closed her eyes, listening.
Crunch, crunch, crunch. Stomp, stomp. Swish, swish. Crunch, crunch.
The horses chewed on their hay and stomped flies away. Her shoulders relaxed. She acted foolishly. Well, go on in. It was possible Sibila and the groomsman were…well, she supposed they could be doing anything.
She turned and entered the small barn. Light shined in through the paned windows, casting a golden glow in streams on the dark hall and stalls. The damp air from the cool stone chilled up her skirt like icy fingers. It was as if she entered not into a sprite’s den, but something infinitely more sinister.
She inhaled to steady herself and glanced around. Horses resided in the first two stalls. The smell of dry hay and the unique scent of beast and sweat curled into her nostrils. Her muscles tensed. She’d always enjoyed the smell of the barn. It reminded her of long days spent occupying herself while her father readied the horses for the carriage. Though the smells and sounds were similar here, there was a stimulating heated noise to the air which she could not quite place. She strained to hear it more clearly. There was a rustling of cloth and whispered voices.
She stepped forward, carefully listening. She turned the corner and headed down another longer row of stalls with a green door at its end.
“There she is, Adam,” Sibila whispered from the stall to the left of Emily. “I told you she would follow.”
“Miss Grey.” His deep voice, so different from what she’d imagined, made the hairs on her neck stand and her stomach flutter. “Come in and assist us.”
Emily peered through the slats in the wood, but saw only hazy light and shadows. What were they about? Maybe they simply required her help with something.
Emily lifted the wooden latch on the stall door and pulled it to the right, sliding it out of the way. She stepped in and quickly closed it behind her.
The copper-haired groomsman faced away from her. His green coat lay fanned out on the hay before him, and he stood in his white shirt and brown breeches. “Umm.” A wet, slopping sound came from in front of him.
She stepped closer, and her head spun slightly from the stifling confines of the small space.
“You require my assistance with something…sir?”
“God, yes.” His hips pressed forward and then relaxed.
Emily stepped closer. Goodness, he was taller and broader at this vantage than he had appeared from a distance in the dry laundry. His stature was impressive. Definitely not a sprite. She barely came to his shoulders. She rounded his side.
Sibila knelt before him. Her skirts billowed out around her. Hands on his thighs, she licked the length of his peg with an improper slurping sound.
Emily’s eyes widened. Oh! She should not be watching this. This was definitely something obscene. The hairs on her neck stood and tingled. They had asked her here to assist them! She could not look away. Long, thick and red, his staff stood straight from his trousers.
“No need to fret, little one. Sibila told me of your innocence and desires. We shall show you nothing more.”
Her desires to wed before acting. She relaxed. Thank goodness Sibila had told him. Emily could not take her eyes from Sibila and what she was doing with his prick. Who would have thought? Never. My. Um…
Sibila’s red lips glided up his length to the tip and then she sucked the crown into her mouth. She rocked her head forward and back as if she licked a large, spear-shaped sucker. She appeared to enjoy this act, but what did that taste like? It couldn’t taste good… Or could it?
“Mmmm.” Adam closed his eyes as if he savored a good bit of custard, then reopened them. “See how Sibila does that with her tongue, Miss Grey?” His body shook. “That feels bloody good. Try to remember that when you are asked to do this.” He reached out, grasped the green cap on Sibila’s head and clenched. “Ummm.” His hips pressed forward, and the length of his peg disappeared deep into Sibila’s mouth.
Emily’s throat tightened, and she swallowed as if he had shoved his peg into her mouth. When she was asked to do this?
What the Mistress Did
Anya Delvay
Oh, the delicious peril of deception…
Lady Marianne Gillingham has no intention of ending her affair with David Dunscombe, Earl Harrington, despite his pending nuptials. She craves his attentions, and he satisfies her deepest yearnings.
Yet, when his fiancée, the sweet, innocent and oh-so-very young Annabelle Frazier, appears on her doorstep to demand the end of the association, Marianne realizes she does not wish to be second in David’s affections. She also cannot resist issuing a warning. The earl will bed his wife with tedious regularity, but never reveal his more unusual desires.
To Marianne’s amusement, her prediction comes true, with a surprising twist. The countess is back with a new demand: repair the problem her prophetic words created. Taking pleasure in imagining the other woman’s fear and horror, Marianne rekindles the affair to demonstrate exactly how to fulfill David’s lascivious desires—while Annabelle secretly watches from the shadows.
She never expected Annabelle to prove so resilient and surprisingly easy—not to mention delicious—to corrupt. Or that the ensuing erotic tangle would be impossible to put right without heartbreak.
Warning: Loosen your stays and have your fan at hand. Plumes and floggers, along with some other leather devices, were employed in the creating of this erotic tangle. Contains Georgian ladies behaving badly, often with each other. M/F/F, M/F, F/F action herein.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
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What the Mistress Did
Copyright © 2011 by Anya Delvay
ISBN: 978-1-60928-681-1
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover by Scott Carpenter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2011
www.samhainpublishing.com