An Indecent Wager: A Scorching Hot Historical Romance (Super Steamy Regency Collection Book 1) by Georgette Brown

Author:Georgette Brown [Brown, Georgette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-03-27T18:30:00+00:00

“I will release one of your hands,” he told her. “You will pleasure yourself.”

Pleasure herself? In front of him? But masturbation was the most private of acts. The notion of touching her genitals before him was horrifying, wicked, and…provocative.

He coaxed her into action with another pinch of her nipple. Her hand flew to her mons and she rubbed two fingers against the little bud nestled between her folds. It was awkward with the bedpost in the way. She had to arch her derrière to provide her hand enough access. At first she felt only shame. There was nothing pleasurable about fondling herself before Lord Blythe. He had sauntered to the side for a better view. But when she chanced to meet his smoldering gaze, saw the slight ripple of muscle above his jaw, desire flamed in her loins. She rubbed herself more purposefully, making the anticipation quiver down the length of her legs.

He went to stand behind her once more and, reaching around her hip, he joined his hand to hers between her thighs. Their fingers bumped against each other. The agitation blazing in her body was ten times stronger than what she had felt earlier. She did not care if he ordered her to stop this time. She would not do it. Her body deserved to spend this time.

And spend it did. She jerked against the post as her wave crested, rolling her beneath it, into the glorious turbulence of release. It flared deep in her groin, shot down her legs. A wrenching cry tore from her throat. When at last she surfaced for air, she felt weak and ragged. Her legs collapsed beneath her just as he swept her into his arms and undid the cord that bound her one arm to the bedpost. He tossed aside the bodice of her gown and laid her across the bed.

With her eyes closed to contain the intensity of sensations that had just assaulted her, she breathed in the relief of her accomplishment, her body satisfied and content. He caressed her thighs, her hips, her waist.

“Well done, Heloise.”

“Mmmmm,” she acknowledged, relishing the sound of her name upon his tongue.

She thought he might now put his triumph into words, and she would not have cared much if he did. Lord Blythe had known somehow that she had wanted this. To attempt denials now would prove a futile exercise. But he said nothing. Instead of proclaiming victory—she expected some level of smugness from a man as arrogant as he—he had praised her. His gentle touch lulled into her a state of peaceful bliss but a gradual arousal also began to build. She could feel the curve of his body behind hers. She was becoming sensitized to him in the most alarming and thrilling ways. How was it he could awaken her body with the simplest of caresses? Wetness pooled between her legs once again, desire welling in her veins. She hoped that he would touch her more intimately.

Just as she was about to

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