Noble Romance:

WARNING: Explicit Erotic language/or sex

Morgan’s most skilled prostitute, Annie, walked to the man, her hips swaying with nimble grace, her lips parting to accept his mouth. With his eyes closed, he ran his hand along the side of her neck and slipped it down to fondle her breast. His thumb and forefinger found a nipple, and he stroked it deliberately, tweaking it until she moaned her pleasure. Drawing him tightly to her, she wound her arms about his neck. He caressed her, gliding his fingers around her waist and over the soft flesh of her buttocks. Slipping his hand between their bodies, he found her mound of dark curls.

The man’s fingers entered her, coaxing a wanton response. She threw her head back, her lips opened, and a string of moans escaped. Annie purred her bliss as she arched her back and spread her legs wide, affording him full access to explore her thoroughly.

“Exquisite, isn’t she,” Morgan whispered.

Olivia cast him a hooded nod, her breathing erratic. As for Morgan, his chest burned, his cock pulsated, and he accepted that it probably leaked as well.

The man walked to the chair near the bed and settled into it, drawing Annie into his lap so she faced him. He took a breast in his mouth and suckled her, eliciting a strident stream of broken cries from her lips. His hands stroked and caressed her naked buttocks, his fingers entering her from behind. She arched up, bearing her weight on her knees while she straddled him, gyrating wildly above the wicked assault of his fingers inside her as his mouth sucked hungrily on her hard, peaked nipple.

Despite his vow, Morgan looked at Olivia, the blood pounding hard in his brain. Her lips parted slightly, she drew a shuddering breath, and her pale, staid face contrasted sharply against the flames of desire in her jade eyes. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, but knew if he did, in the next moment he’d toss her underneath him and take her, without remorse, without regret. And she’d let him. He saw it in the deep fathoms of her pupils, heard it in the decadent whisper of lust enveloping them.

Olivia looked away quickly. Was she terrified she might reveal her innermost fantasies, horrified to think he could see into her exposed soul? Morgan withdrew his gaze too and returned to watching the couple in the room. The man clasped Annie’s hips and plunged into her. In a restless state of delirium, her sweat-damp body rode him hard. With a shiver, Annie threw her head back, her long black hair swaying against her waist.

Olivia rose from the chair to a stream of Annie’s fractured moans, and with the look of a trapped minx, made a bolt for the door. On his feet in a heartbeat and knocking over the chair in the process, Morgan caught her wrist and spun her around.

“Let me go,” she said with ragged breath. “I’ve seen enough.”

Her unearthly beauty nearly felled him, not to mention the white-hot flames of desire licking every cell and pore in his body. “You’re such a little hypocrite, Liv. Voyeurism is perfectly acceptable, providing no one knows you engage in it...or enjoy it, is that it?”

“I must have been out of mind to agree to come here with you.”

“Why? Does it strike too close to the heart?”

“Oh, you really are a despicable, heartless scoundrel, a lowdown bounder who preys on helpless women.”

He couldn’t help the laugh, despite her outraged expression. “You, helpless? If I remember, you were the one who begged Cain and I to assist you in this sullied endeavor.”

“Sullied endeavor!” she said. “Why is it that men can bed every woman from London to Luxemburg—married, maiden, or widowed—and no one bats an eye?” She trembled. “They frequent brothels and gentleman’s clubs, drink far too much, gamble their estates away, and society looks the other way.” She pushed him. “Huh, why is that, Morgan Gatewood, and, more to the point, how dare you refer to this as a sullied endeavor!”

“Liv, I’m—”

“Turn me loose this instant.” She yanked her elbow from his grip. “And thank you very much, I shall find my own way back to the phaeton.”

“Find your way back to the phaeton like hell; not until I’m done with you.”

“Done with me?” An eyebrow rose.

He recognized fear in her voice amid the desire and rampaging hunger screaming around them. Still holding her wrist, he pulled her to him and crushed his mouth to hers. His hand found the back of her head and pressed her deeper into the kiss, his tongue sweeping through the warm, wetness of her mouth. She whimpered, unleashing the restrained urgency he’d held in check for ten long years. The time had come for her to understand he’d no longer stand on the sidelines and worship her from afar, would no longer hunger for her like a caged beast.

This woman in his arms with her magnificent green eyes and exquisite body haunted his every fantasy, walked with him in dreams, awakened in his bed kissed by morning sunlight. He would stand for no more.

He backed her toward the wall until she flattened against it; still kissing her amid the damn mewls spewing from her throat. Reluctantly, he withdrew his mouth, allowing their breaths to mingle as he cupped her breast and ran his thumb across her hard, sensitized nub. She squirmed and tried to push him away.

“Put your hand down.” Much to his surprise, she not only obeyed, but moved it to clutch the hair at the nape of his neck.

In the background, Annie’s voice reached a high-pitched cadence of animalistic groans, an aphrodisiac to his agony. He focused on the temptress in his arms, inhaled her scent, dying to touch her sex, not just on the outside, but wanted to feel the slick, warm heat convulsing around his finger. A poor substitute for his cock, but the need to be inside her in any manner, shape or form brought him to the brink of madness.

He shoved the frilly dress up over her narrow hips, his hand lingering on her firm thigh over the ruffled pantalets women were fond of wearing. Blast the inconvenient layers of garments. Her hand moved from his hair and joined with her other to cling to his shoulders. Her breath came in little bursts when he slid the undergarment down to her ankles and ran his hand over the firm plane of her abdomen, moving lower still until he touched the downy tuft he searched for. She pressed her thighs together in an automatic response against his bold assault.

“No,” he said. “Not this time, Liv. You’re not going to shut me out.”

She wet her lips and dug her quivering fingers into his shoulders. “Morgan, don’t, please....”

“Yes,” he said. “You want me to, and you know it.” Damn, if he wasn’t breathing harder and faster than her. “In five minutes you’ll beg me for more.”

“I won’t.” She panted, her eyes brimming with heat and bewilderment.

Barely brushing her clitoris with his fingertip, he watched her eyes grow wide and her teeth bite down on her bottom lip. He moved his finger around the swollen bud, slowly rubbing it, applying small amounts of pressure, but refrained from entering her. Her hips rotated, and she nearly collapsed against him.

“Stand up straight and spread your legs, Liv.” Motionless, she clung to him. He forced his fingers to stop moving. “Do it or I swear I’ll stop for good.” She whimpered into his chest. “Spread your legs, now.”

Christ, what would he do if her sanity returned at this inopportune moment? He couldn’t stop himself now and most certainly couldn’t let her know it. Much to his relief, her thighs relaxed and her feet moved, each in the opposite direction. He didn’t want to afford her time to think; he wanted her to oblige him and allow him entry. Resuming his prior assault to the outer folds of her sex, he was rewarded by a shuddering tremor and a primordial moan.

His finger dipped in, but only an inch. “Do you want this now, Liv?”

Her sex tightened around the tip of his finger, beckoning him with a will of its own. He entered her a little more, but still she wouldn’t answer him. He rubbed his thumb over her clitoris, the sensual, methodical rhythm eliciting a full-throated groan from her lips. “Beg me, Liv, tell me you want to feel it inside you all the way.”

She pushed her body closer to his, her hips writhing against his hand. Moaning aloud, she drowned out Annie’s frantic cries for release behind them.

“Come on, baby, you can say it.”

“Yes,” she said. “I want to feel it inside me.”

“And you shall have your wish,” he said, pushing through in a slow, deep stroke.

Small and tight, her body convulsed. Aware she hurt, but half-crazed by the feel of her insides pulsing against him, he hurt too, only with a different kind of pain. He couldn’t remember when he’d been so hard and hot. His cock screamed out in agony with the despair of not being inside her. He needed to get a hold of himself or risk spurting in his trousers. This wasn’t about him; not this time. His sole intent was to bring her pleasure, release. He wanted her to remember this forever, lay awake at night and crave his touch, hunger for him the way he hungered for her.

Her head rolled back and forth on the wall. With her eyes half-shuttered, she gyrated beneath the motion of his hand. Dampness flooded his finger, and the muscles of her womb tightened again and again around it. He pulled out momentarily and entered her again with two fingers, pitching her into a frenzy of shrill whimpers. She thrashed wildly against him and cried out his name. Her body stiffened. In his delirium, he felt her hot, wet sex clench around his fingers, and he sent a thankful prayer skyward he’d been her first. And last. Even if he had to tie the confounded woman up and kidnap her.

When at last she convulsed around him, another series of cries left her luscious lips, and she wilted against him, her body still quivering. He waited patiently, wondering what words would come from her mouth. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered and pushed away from him.

Their eyes met, and he watched myriad expressions cross her lovely features—wonder, disbelief, and shame. Long minutes later, her dazed eyes returned to their normal color, and her breathing slowed. She searched his face, anger banking in her eyes like hot embers.

“I hope you’re satisfied. You got what you wanted, seduced me into begging like a common whore.”

“Whores don’t beg. They give more than they take and...willingly.” He brought his hand to her cheek. “It’s what you wanted too, Liv. You’d admit it if you weren’t so damned stubborn.”

“Take your hands off me! I may have lost my head in a moment of passion, but it won’t happen again, I assure you.”

He shouldn’t have laughed, not when she was so serious, so twisted with conflicting emotions about what had passed between them, but he couldn’t help it. She was such a little hypocrite. She wanted him inside her, and not just his fingers. He’d proven it, and she refused to admit it. Even now, she trembled with longing, her face flushed with passion, the sweet scent of her sex drifting around them.

“Oh, it will happen again,” he said. “You can count on that.”

Without responding to his words, she pulled her undergarments up and straightened her dress. Oblivious to the fact she took his heart with her, she stormed out the door.