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Oh God. I suppose I am. At least for tonight.
Leo Murphy collected opera singers and actresses. There was always a merry widow or two who trailed behind him at Elysium. The ladies of thetonmay not care for his pedigree, but it didn’t stop them from jumping into his bed when the opportunity presented itself. There was even a rumor that one unhappy young wife had threatened to drown herself in the fountain of her husband’s estate when Murphy had ended their affair.
I’m not even an affair. I’m, at most, an indiscretion.
Georgina adamantly refused to be one of those women, waiting for Leo to turn his attention in her direction again. She had no interest in being one of his paramours. The mere thought wounded her.
He ran his knuckles gently along the line of her jaw before standing to loom over her naked form. She started to draw her legs together, aware of how exposed she was but Leo shook his head.
“No. Don’t move.” He shrugged out of his coat, a deep blue superfine that didn’t deserve to be tossed so carelessly into one of the empty chairs. The waistcoat came next, a garish rendition of bright colors which made Georgina somewhat dizzy if she stared too long at the pattern.
“I don’t understand why you wear anything so hideous.”
“So you’ve said.” The husky whisper scratched against her breasts as he tore off his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt. “Keeps me from being confused for a lord.”
“I doubt anyone makes such a mistake.”
There was far too much ruthless ambition humming beneath Leo’s skin, something that was absent from many of the titled gentlemen Georgina had met in London. He was different from the lords downstairs, but not in the way he imagined.
The shirt was violently flung atop the waistcoat. He sat on the opposite end of the crimson settee and removed his boots.
Georgina couldn’t help but stare at the ripple of muscles in his arms. Leo was broad across the chest. Solid. A dusting of dark hair covered his torso before thinning into a tight line and disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. The desire to touch all that skin, wind her fingers through the crisp hair, had Georgina’s fingers twitching. There was nothing fine-boned about Leo. Not an ounce of refinement. His body was all rough edges, bone and sinew carved and cut beneath the flesh. Powerfully physical. Strong. Without the expensively tailored clothes, Leo’s appearance of being a gentleman disappeared completely.
Leo ran a hand up his thigh, drawing attention to the heavy muscles and the thick length tenting his trousers.
“I assume Masterson has bedded you.”
Georgina lifted her gaze to his. “Twice. Neither was...memorable.”
His thumbs hooked into the top of his trousers. “And who before that, Georgina? Masterson certainly didn’t teach you how to kiss. You don’t behave as a woman who has never been touched.”
She swallowed, not wanting to think about John Winbow with Leo standing over her nearly naked. “It isn’t relevant.”
“I see.” He shucked off his trousers to stand naked before her. His cock jutted out from a thick nest of dark hair. “Everything where it should be?” He leaned over and brushed his lips against her mouth.
“I believe so.” She reached out, fingers hovering, the heat of him wafting across the tips. Gently, she trailed a finger over his length. Velvet. Deceptively soft but hard. Masterson had kept the room dark, so she hadn’t seen him completely. There were naked statues, of course. A crude drawing one of her parents’ maids had drawn and Georgina had found. Ben, her cousin and dearest friend growing up, had many names for the male appendage and wasn’t shy about sharing the knowledge with Georgina. Cock was the term Ben had often used. If her mother had ever found out, she would have sent her cousin back onto the streets from whence he’d come.
“Like this?”
He’d asked her the same question earlier. She wanted to know how to pleasure him as he’d done to her.
“Jesus. Yes.” A ragged breath escaped him.
She brushed her fingers down the length, feeling the velvet heat warming her hand, the way his big body trembled at her touch. It was a heady sensation. Powerful.
He reached for her shoulders, flipping her deftly onto her stomach. One arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her. “On your knees, sweetheart.”
Georgina nodded as he took hold of her neck and pushed her forward, forcing her knees apart with his leg. He nibbled down the length of her spine, holding her firmly, his hand wrapped gently around her throat. The fingers of his other hand delved between her legs, gliding over her, teasing at her flesh until she gasped and moaned. Wetness slid between her thighs. She felt faint from the anticipation of pleasure. Wanted it desperately. A needy sound escaped her.
The hand holding her down tightened ever so slowly as he positioned himself at her entrance, thrusting deep inside her with one stroke, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her body struggled to take him, and she gasped at the stretch. He was much larger than Masterson. He pulled out and thrust again, this time deeper than before.
A low moan left her as he hit a sensitive spot. “Oh, God. Leo.”
“Georgie.” He breathed her name. His fingers were on her throat, tangled in her hair, taking her with hard, even strokes. The pleasure was so intense, Georgina wept, screaming out her release into the cushions. She may have bitten one of the tassels off a pillow. Her hips bucked wildly, her inner muscles clutching his cock before he withdrew with a groan, spilling himself over her buttocks and thighs.
Panting, breath ragged, Leo’s mouth pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder. His hand stroked her hair. The side of her cheek. “Don’t move, love.”
Georgina couldn’t have even if she’d had the inclination to. She hadn’t thought physical relations would be so...intense. So incredibly pleasurable, one’s mind went blank. She heard him pad to the other side of the room and wrap his knuckles against the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched a door swing open to reveal a small washroom. Water splashed as he cleaned himself.
