“Ride me,” he said.
With her hands placed on either side of his shoulders, Bridget rose up and then sunk down once more. By the third time she had done this, Stephen was seated fully within her.
Her eyelids drifted closed. This was beyond anything she had ever known before. Bridget rested her forehead against his. “Just give me a moment. You are not a small man.”
A rumble of laughter came from deep within his chest. “I should have mentioned that you might have difficulty walking in the morning.”
His fingers traced lightly over her thighs, up the sides of her waist, finally settling on her firm, hard nipples. He gave them both a gentle tweak.
Bridget needed no further encouragement; she began to ride the hard length of him. Every stroke was pure ecstasy against her sensitive flesh.
Her soft groans and sobs of pleasure were soon all that could be heard in the room.
Bridget lay sprawled on top of Stephen’s chest on the chaise lounge. He had never been one for these pieces of furniture, often finding them too small for him. But this one was wider and longer than any other he had seen. Almost custom-built for a man of his physical stature.
After draining the last of the wine from his glass, he set it on the floor. He picked up the bottle and chuckled. It was empty. “We finished that in the blink of an eye.”
He had brought her to completion twice now. The first time, she had ridden him. At the point when he’d sensed she was close to the edge, he had thrust hard and deep up into her, exalting when she cried out for more.
The second time had been a long, delicious encounter where Bridget lay over the mahogany leather sofa while Stephen took her firmly from behind.
With the wine gone, now came the time when a gentleman asked politely of a lady, “Are you finished with me for this evening? If you are, please say so, and I will take my leave.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. The cat who had got the cream couldn’t look more satisfied. “I can still walk. And there is another bottle of wine waiting for us in my bedroom. So, Sir Stephen, I would say that your work is not yet done.”
Brushing her hair from her face, he placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Well then, I believe we should adjourn to your private boudoir, Lady Bridget. There is nectar of the gods to be drunk and more sexual peaks for you to conquer.”
Bridget rolled off Stephen and stood. He got to his feet and gave her a wicked grin. Bridget squealed as he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.
As he marched out into the hallway, Stephen prayed there weren’t any servants lurking about. There would never be a good way to explain why the mistress of the house was draped face down over the back of a large, naked man.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sunlight was streaming through the window when Stephen woke the following morning. For a moment he wasn’t certain where he was, then it all came flooding back.
He was in Bridget’s bed following the longest and greatest night of sexual pleasure he had ever known. Finally, he had found a woman who could hold her own against him in the passion stakes.
What a night. What a woman.
He stretched his arm out, seeking her body.
If I am lucky, we might get to enjoy another round of ecstasy before I leave.
Empty sheets greeted his searching fingers. He moved farther over in the bed. Perhaps she was someone who slept on the edge. Again, he found only cool, smooth cotton.
What the devil?
He sat up and looked around. He was alone. A glance to the other side of the bed revealed a bedside table. Upon it, propped against a small vase, was a white card withStephenwritten in elegant, female handwriting.
With a frown now etched on his face, he picked up the card and turned it over.
You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to wake you.
I have an appointment in the city this morning.
A footman will bring you breakfast if you ring the bedside bell.
Let yourself out when you are ready to leave. And please send me the final bill for your work. I shall recommend you to my friends if ever they are in need.
