AllFreeNovel
Share Us
22
When David first saw Andromeda wandering about the gallery, butterflies floating about her ankles and in her hair, David had thought she was a hallucination, brought on by a combination of scotch and a healthy amount of lust.
He had come to a decision. The scotch helped put his emotions on equal footing with his mind for once. Or it at least blotted out the voice of Horace, screaming his outrage at David’s choice. But David finally acknowledged there was more to life than duty.
There was Andromeda.
He grabbed one plump buttock in his hand as Andromeda pressed her lips to his, lifting her up so that she was notched firmly between his thighs. His cock throbbed painfully between his legs, urging David to lift her skirts and take her against the wall, right next to the portrait of Horace.
He knew she was unsuitable, for a multitude of reasons beginning with her bastard brother and ending with a low-born mother. But Andromeda was the only thing which filled the huge, gaping maw within him. She was the promise of happiness. He would never embrace her family or completely put aside his views, but David was willing tooverlooka great deal to have her. It was the best compromise he was capable of.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth more firmly against hers, making the most delicious sounds, like a kitten being stroked.
He dropped his scotch, uncaring when the glass fell to the floor. Pulling Andromeda more fully between his legs, he took control of her mouth, his lips sweeping over hers.
She pressed against the hard length of his cock, heavy and tight between his legs, moving her hips in a sinuous fashion.
“Jesus,Andromeda,” he said, pausing only to clasp her more firmly to him.
“I wish to see the painting,” she whispered. “The one that reminds you of me.”
He pressed his forehead against hers, their breath mingling. “Are you certain?” David lowered her to the ground, trying not to groan as her body slid over his cock.
“I am.” She shot him a defiant look, one he’d grown to recognize. “I want to see the painting. With you. Alone. I’m very sure.”
Nodding, David took her hand and led her down the hallway, turning sharply before coming to the door of his study. His fingers paused on the knob of the door. “I wish to be perfectly and absolutely clear. I havenointention of marrying Beatrice.” It was the closest he could come to some sort of declaration.
“Do you not?” she challenged, a tiny smirk fixed to her lips. “But she is so perfect for you.”
“Youare perfect for me.” He flung open the door, gratified to see the fire still burning in the hearth, before throwing the lock.
Pulling her into his arms, David’s mouth fell on hers, releasing a lifetime of restraint.
* * *
Granby’s handsran up and down, lingering over the hollows of her body, savagely kissing her, demanding she yield to him. Which was a wasted effort on his part. She would surrender all of herself to him.
A fire crackled in the hearth, throwing patches of light over them both as he drew her to a chair. “Sit.” He pressed her down.
She did so with reluctance, her fingers plucking at his shirt. “I don’t wish to discuss things further.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “Look at the wall. You’ve a clear view of the painting.”
Romy lifted her gaze. The painting was a seascape, drawn from a window the artist was looking through. The sun was sinking below the waves, casting twilight upon the water which the artist depicted in swirls of blues. “It’s beautiful.”
“The Mediterranean. Your eyes are the same color.” He kneeled before her and began to slowly drag her skirts up over her legs.
Romy’s petticoats rasped deliciously over her silk-clad legs, sensuously teasing the ache between her thighs. She suspected she knew what Granby meant to do to her. He’d said as much yesterday. Anticipation and arousal rolled over her in waves; she had to press her knees together to stop the throbbing between them.
“What did you see at Elysium?” His teeth tugged at one stocking, while he pushed her legs apart.
“A great deal of feathers.”
The vibration of his amusement filtered up beneath her skirts. “There are uses for such things. I vow to show you the ones I know of.” He pushed her skirts all the way up, the layers of petticoats puffing out around her.
Romy tried to hold still, but her mind filled with images of feathers and plush material. And Granby.
“Hold your skirts.”
