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“Oh God,” he muttered through clenched teeth. He thought he’d explode, his need for instant sexual gratification now greater than it had ever been with the Spanish whores and French camp followers who’d been his usual sparse bedroom fare until now. Indeed, Stephen Cranbourne was rising in the world in all respects.
Never had he ever been so desired. The lovely Lady Julia wanted him.
He closed his eyes and moaned softly as she took him deep into her mouth. There was no need to answer. He was no longer of this world. Nothing mattered except his sensory gratification at the hands of this exquisite woman.
Slowly she slid him deeper until his hilt was buried deep down her throat while her hands played lightly with his balls.
Every nerve ending quivered as she slid him out then in, the friction of each thrust nearly driving him to distraction. He was going to come any second and he’d die of pleasure.
She must have sensed he was on the edge and wanted to prolong their lovemaking, for still gripping him, she rose to her feet so that her head rested just beneath his.
Her arms went around him and she wriggled her body tight and hard against his almost painful erection, whispering, “Lift me onto the table, Mr. Cranbourne, and let’s see what you’re really made of.”
He did not need to be invited twice. He hoisted her onto the ledge, then rucked up her skirts, his hands skimming her smooth, shapely thighs. The candle flickered perilously.
“Careful, Mr. Cranbourne, or you’ll engulf us both in the fires of Hell.” She gave a throaty chuckle.
Wasn’t that where he was going for taking his fill with another man’s wife?
The thought was not enough to stop him. If the exquisite Lady Julia wanted him, he’d take her anywhere.
He stepped back, preparing himself, her parted legs offering a tantalizing view of glistening folds.
And all his for the taking.
“Come, Mr. Cranbourne.” Her voice was hoarse and rough with desire. “Show me how a real man satisfies a woman. I get little enough pleasure in the marital bed. No, don’t be afraid. Archie is already so befuddled he won’t know if we’ve been gone five minutes or an hour.”
A flicker of concern over his wager made him hesitate but was banished when her hand closed over his cock to guide him into her.
The rapture in her expression was too much to resist. She was gorging herself on him and after so many years in hellholes across the continent, fighting for king and country, it was rare to feel such a prize with the ladies.
“Oh God,” he croaked again as the tip of his cock touched her sex.
“That’s right, my lovely,” she crooned as her tight opening closed around him. “Oh, my, but you’re so much bigger than my Archie. Why, I wa
nt to eat you all up.”
Something in her words sparked a momentary alarm but as she jerked her body forward, plunging him into her hidden depths, her legs closing around his waist, his thoughts were consumed by one thing only.
Release.
God, it had been a long time since he’d not had to pay a woman for sex. This one wanted him. Lady Julia wanted him.
And she had a body to drown in.
Tucking his hands beneath her bottom, he squeezed, pulling her against him, as he plunged into her.
“Touch me.” Her soft breath against his cheek curdled his soul. What had he been thinking? Only of himself, clearly, for she had done all the taking and he’d been happy to be led. “Yes, oh, yes, there.”
With his thumb and forefinger he pleasured the glistening folds of her sex, the slick juices testament to her pleasure. Her eyes were glazed and her movements jerky as she threw her head back and offered her body up to him.
For the first time, Mr. Stephen Cranbourne made love as a gentleman of the ton in a poky closet off the corridor of a home grander than he was used to gracing and not as grand as he was about to inherit.
The world was at his fingertips and he’d never felt so on top.
“Oh yes, Mr. Cranbourne!” With a cry fit to bring the roof—and Sir Archie’s fury— crashing down upon them, Lady Julia convulsed in a final outpouring of pleasure. There was no mistaking the force of her orgasm, which fueled the ferocity of his, the pulsing of her silken canal in which he was so gloriously sheathed, sending the blood roaring to his extremities.
“Oh God, Lady Julia!” he gasped, spilling himself into her, clasping her to him and clinging on for dear life so they didn’t both tumble dangerously to the stone-flagged floor.
