One Night of Surrender: The Brothers Mortmain, Book 1 (15 page)

Chapter Seventeen

“I’ve been thinking,” Katherine said in a voice that was unusually stern.

“Hmm?” Gervais was lounging on the bed, naked. He’d swum in the loch earlier and he felt relaxed and contented. He and Katherine had married in a simple ceremony four weeks earlier, with the earl and Anila beside them, and since then they’d counted their blessings every day.

“I said, I’ve been thinking, Gervais.”

He looked up at her through his half-closed eyes. She was standing by the chest at the end of the bed and something in her manner made him sit up and pay attention.

“What have you been thinking, my sweet?”

Her eyes met his. She was full of suppressed excitement mingled with some of her old lack of confidence.

“I was remembering when Edward found us in the bothy, and I caused him to drop his pistol. How, instead of retrieving your own weapon, you flung yourself upon him.”

Gervais grimaced. “I’m sorry. I was so angry. I wanted to smash his face in and somehow fists are better for that.”

“It was your reckless streak, Gervais,” she said sternly. “The same reckless streak that got you into trouble over and over again. I think we should tame it, don’t you?”

Puzzled, he shook his head. He watched her open the chest and reach in, and when she straightened he saw that she was holding ribbons. Blue ribbons, evenly cut, and several of them. They looked like…they looked like…

He closed his eyes a moment and said a silent prayer of thanks. When he opened them again she was approaching the bed with a purposeful tread.

“Are you going to tie me up?” he whispered.

She nodded. “I think it’s for the best, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, definitely for the best.”

She looked down at him and her eyes widened as she saw how aroused he was. “Gervais, I—”

He reached out to take her hand. “No, Katherine, don’t weaken,” he said. “You’re doing the right thing. Use me as you will.”

She smiled then, and her face flushed with desire and the same excitement that filled him.

Slowly, paying attention to each knot, she bound his wrists to the head of the bed and his ankles to the bottom. And then slowly, aware of his gaze upon her, she began to undress, removing each garment and folding it neatly. He groaned.

“Reckless
and
impatient,” she scolded.

Katherine climbed onto the bed and crawled toward him on her hands and knees. Her breasts swayed with the movement and his mouth watered for their taste. She moved up his body, rubbing herself along him, lapping at his skin. When she reached his erect cock she smiled and leant down, running her tongue over it.

“Katherine, I don’t think I can wait,” he said, his heart hammering.

“Oh? Well you’ll just have to,” she retorted, and made little circles around his tip before drawing the length of him in and out of her mouth several times, each time deeper. He thrust upwards with his hips and groaned again.

“I could just leave you like that and walk away,” she teased, but he knew she was aroused too. Her eyes glittered as she ran her hand down over her breasts, brushing against her pink nipples, and then caressing the swell of her belly and down, through the fair hair on her mound. Her fingers delved inside, found her pearl, as she sighed and began to stroke herself.

Gervais couldn’t take his eyes from her.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes closed. She arched herself backwards as her fingers worked harder, and her thighs trembled with the growing climax. And then she gasped and cried out, breasts rising and falling, her body relaxing again.

Her eyes opened slowly and met his.

“Oh, Katherine,” he whispered. “You are a woman like no other. You are the only woman I love, have ever loved.”

“And you are the only man,” she whispered back. She was climbing astride him and he wondered whether he would be able to hold back long enough to satisfy her again. She eased herself onto him, gradually taking him all inside her. He could see how much she loved being in control—as much as he loved being her willing slave.

Her hands pressed flat to his chest, she rose and fell, riding him with serious concentration on her face. She’d learned a great deal since that night at Newgate, but he thought she was also a natural. His Katherine was a passionate and daring woman, and it had taken a man like him to free that part of her.

He drove upwards into her, pulling against his bonds. He knew he could break them if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He was enjoying this more than he imagined, and he could imagine a great deal.

“Gervais,” she moaned. He felt her climax coming, the trembling of her thighs, the tightening of her inner muscles around his cock, and then they exploded together in a burst of ecstasy.

Katherine came to herself some time later and found she was wrapped in his arms.
So he’s freed himself from the ribbons,
she thought, amused.
I will have to tie them tighter next time.

Because there would be a next time.

Gervais was watching her. “Katherine,” he said. “Have I told you how much your reckless and impatient husband loves you?”

“Not for a few minutes.” She reached up to stroke his cheek.

He leaned over her and began to kiss her. “Then let me tell you now…”

Katherine gave a contented sigh. No doubt there would be times when he made her angry, or she made him angry, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered in the vastness of their love for one another. Out of that one desperate and passionate night had come a lifetime of happiness.

And then with a smile she gave herself up to Gervais.

About the Author

Evie North is a writer of erotic historical romance. Once Evie goes into her writing zone, she vanishes into a world of medieval knights and regency rakes, and the ladies who tame them. Here happy endings are obligatory and the bedroom door is left firmly open. During her quieter moments Evie likes to read and garden.

One Night of Surrender is her first novella and is the first in a Regency trilogy about the Mortmain Brothers.

You can find her at
www.evienorth.com
or find her on Facebook.

Once the game begins, there is no tearing your gaze away.

Pleasuring the Lady

© 2013 Jess Michaels

The Pleasure Wars, Book 2

Her mother’s madness and her father’s and brother’s irresponsibility have relegated Lady Portia to the life of a wallflower. The only shining light in her life is her best friend, Ava, who is suffering a rift with her own brother.

Portia’s quest to help takes her to the notorious Donville Masquerade in the hells, where—behind the safety of a mask—she witnesses shocking public acts of sin. And succumbs to the touch of Marquis Miles Weatherfield.

Unfortunately, they’re discovered. And now, tainted by scandal, she and Miles are destined for a marriage neither of them want. But Portia makes a bargain that raises even Miles’s eyebrows.

In return for saving her mother from the asylum, Portia will do anything Miles wants in bed. Shocked by his driving desire for Portia, Miles agrees. As they explore every wicked desire, every forbidden act that pleases them, they discover something that goes far deeper than flesh. But the lies that brought them together could be the very wedge that drives them apart.

Warning: This book contains wicked encounters, erotic voyeurism, lies, a brief threesome, and unexpected kindnesses.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Pleasuring the Lady:

Miles scanned the room for potential subjects, but again was simply bored with his choices. Women in plunging necklines, their breasts almost bare, panting over any man who gave them a side-glance. They were all so bored and jaded…a bit like he was. There was no one to—

He cut the thought off as the crowd across the room parted and revealed a woman standing along the wall by herself. She had pale blond hair done up in a simple chignon at the base of her long, creamy neck.
 

Her mask covered half her face, but it was not of the ornate variety that the others wore as calling cards. It was blue and very plain, possibly handcrafted out of leftover silk from a gown. It didn’t match her dress, which was a deep green and cut in a modest style that had little frills. Still, the fabric was high quality. He was left confused.

Was this a highbred lady or a lower-class one?
 

He moved closer, inexplicably drawn to her. She hugged the wall with her body, exactly like a wallflower at a ball at Almack’s would do. She stared out at the room, her eyelashes fluttering as she blinked and blinked…almost in innocence, shock.

But was that real or affected? There were plenty of women who came here and pretended to be virtuous in order to play into the fantasies of certain men.

He had never been one of those, and yet he continued to move toward her. As he reached her, he realized she had dark brown eyes and they were dilated with high emotions that did not seem artificial.

“Hello,” he said softly.

She jerked with surprise, for her attention had been so focused on the activity around them that she had not even seen him advance on her. She looked at him, cheeks flushed and those brown eyes widened with surprise and, he thought, recognition.

“I—hello,” she whispered, her voice husky.

He smiled, sly. “You seem surprised to see me approach you. Do we know each other, my lady?”

She swallowed and then shook her head. When she didn’t say anything else, Miles moved a little closer.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

She shook her head again, her eyes focused intently on his face.
 

He smiled at her refusal to speak. If this was a game to obtain his interest, it was well-played. Her silence gave her an air of mystery that he found fascinating, indeed.

“You said hello, so I know you are
capable
of speech,” he said with a chuckle.

She shivered, almost as if the sound of his laughter had touched her in an unexpected way. She hesitated a moment, then she said in another low whisper, “I am, my lord.”

He arched a brow. Did she assume he was titled or
know
? He still couldn’t tell.
 

“I’m sorry if you find me reluctant to speak,” she continued. “I-I really don’t know what to say to you.”

He stared at her. “Your honesty is refreshing in this situation. I am a gentleman, so I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Would you prefer it if I choose the topic of our discourse? You may nod or shake your head in answer to me if that is more amenable to you.”

She pulled the corner of her lip between her teeth and his gut clenched with a sudden desire. Her lips were full and he longed to feel them pressed to his flesh. Anywhere. Everywhere.

“Well?” he asked, trying to keep his raging desire from being too obvious. Desperation was never an attractive trait.

She nodded, a bit slowly.

“Good. I would like to know more about you—”

Before he could ask more, she shook her head hard, her eyes going wide and wild. He frowned.

“Nothing to identify you,” he reassured her. “You say I have not seen you here before—have you
been
here before?”

She seemed to consider the answer. To consider running away, but then she slowly shook her head in the negative.
 

“I see.” He looked her up and down. “Is there a reason you came here?”

She dropped her chin, breaking their gaze and leaving him feeling strangely…lost. She nodded.

“Hmm, that is very interesting,” he said, stroking his chin. He thought of all the possibilities of why a woman…perhaps a lady…would come to this desperate and debauched place.

“Did you come to gamble?”

She immediately shook her head.

“Not to gamble. Then that must mean you came for the…
other
diversions this place offers.” He couldn’t help but grin, for that had been his hope with every step toward her.

But to his surprise, she took a side-glance at some of the couples engaging in public sensuality. There were moans in the air, flashes of flesh. Her breath caught and she blushed, but he sensed her deep arousal beneath her shock. So she liked to watch…well, so did he.
 

She shook her head, though it was much slower and less certain than the other times she had indicated the negative.

“Then did you come looking for someone?”

She nodded, lifting her face back toward his, her desire faded in an instant.
 

“Your father?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Your brother?” Another hesitation and the negative, indicated by the shake of her head. He took a deep breath. “Your husband?”

Her cheeks filled with heated color as she shook her head.

“Ah, I see. Someone you care for, though.” He tilted his head to watch her more carefully. This answer meant something to him, though he had no idea why.