(Medieval Plantagenet, #2) The Dragon and the Jewel by Virginia Henley

Author:Virginia Henley [Henley, Virginia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Historical
ISBN: 0440206243
Publisher: Dell
Published: 1991-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Brenda had worked her way through all the men who were employed inside Odiham Manor, now she was working her way through the stables. She knew Turner, the head groom, was about to fall into her hands if only from curiosity of what the other grooms had told him. Suddenly she came upon a sight that made her blink with disbelief. A man, nay a god, lay stretched upon the straw sleeping. The impact of his magnificent physique hit her like a thunderbolt. She wanted to be tumbled by him into that straw more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. She measured him with her eyes and guessed his length to be over six-and-a-half feet. God’s blood, how long must his manroot be? She decided to find out. She knelt down in the straw and reached out an itchy palm to touch his man’s center. Simon de Montfort had the keen hearing of a warrior even in his sleep. At the first rustle of the hay his black eyes shot open and he sat up, swiftly reaching for his dagger.

Brenda’s lips parted in a little round O. “Who are you?” she asked huskily.

“I came from Windsor with a message for the Countess of Pembroke.”

His voice was so deep her bones felt like they were melting. She licked her lips. “She’s not here,” she said absently, her mind on other things. Her eyes deliberately lowered to his groin in hopes that she had aroused him.

Simon watched her closely. Her bold thoughts were so blatant they were etched upon her saucy face. “Where is she?” he demanded, preparing to rise.

A veil came down over her eyes before she replied, “She has returned to Windsor.”

In a flash he knelt before her, his powerful hands seized her shoulders, and he brought his face level with hers. “Why do you lie, wench?”

She groaned at his touch. The smell of the hay and his leathers acted as a powerful stimulant to her senses, and she slid her hand between his muscular thighs and tried to cup him. He overflowed her hand and she tumbled head over heels in lust with him. He was what she had been searching for her entire life.

Simon de Montfort had never met a woman whose need was so great. He would not have been a man if he hadn’t been flattered by her blatant desire for him. Most women threw him subtle glances and hints; this one reached out for what she wanted and took it.

With ungentle hands he pulled her gown down from her shoulders, letting it fall about her waist, then he filled his palms with her generous breasts. His mouth took hers swiftly, savagely, and as he thrust his tongue in deeply, he turned and lowered her to the hay, pinning her beneath his body. Brenda was stunned as she felt herself climax. It so seldom happened even when a man had been inside her for an age that she thought she must be dreaming.

“Where is the Countess of Pembroke?” he demanded.

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