Everything began to blur from the pleasure that overwhelmed her core. Sensation coiled as his hips and his cock pounded into her harder and harder.
Sensing he was waiting for her to obey his earlier command, she dug her fingers into the spot he guided her hand to and mindlessly dug her fingers together in the hope it delivered him the same ecstasy he was delivering to her.
He stiffened in visible pain and choked out, “More.”
She tightened the pinch, determined to give him exactly that.
He slid them down the wall and to the floor, his features twisting. “No more,” he rasped. “Too. Much.”
She released her hold.
A breath escaped him as he lowered them in a weakened state to the floor.
Between ragged breaths, Malcolm smoothed her hair with large hands and kissed her lips, her cheeks and her throat. “Leona,” he whispered, slowly stroking his cock into her, clearly no longer interested in giving either of them pain. “Leona, you make me suffer in unending bliss, and I thank you for that.”
To see him reveling in such ecstasy was well-worth taking the role of his pain mistress.
He rolled his hips and licked her mouth again and again, his movements becoming more precise and edging slower still but deep. So deep.
Feeling lightheaded against the pleasure rippling through her core, she gasped and gave into the strokes that hit her nub so perfectly. She cried out, her fingers digging into his scarred skin.
He gripped her hair hard and tugged, stilling his massive body against her as he groaned out against her. His seed filled her.
The pounding of their hearts eventually lulled.
Leona blissfully lay on the kitchen floor beneath him and drawled, “It was a good thing I washed the floors this week.”
A gruff laugh escaped him. “There won’t be any more of that. You’re going to be an admiral’s wife and live in a palace with your own servants.”
Her brows went up in astonishment. “A palace? You lie.”
Malcolm captured her gaze, repositioning himself over her and smoothed her hair. “I forgot to mention that I’m incredibly good friends with the Persian prince. It will be the greatest adventure you’ll ever know. You’ll want for nothing.”
She pinched her lips. “Except for the ring you still owe me.”
He eyed her. “It’s not my damn fault you didn’t see the box.”
She paused. “Box?”
He rolled off and propped himself up onto an elbow naked. “Why do you think I wanted you to use a wooden spoon? It’s been sitting in that cupboard for three weeks. Which isn’t too much of a surprise, I guess, given you don’t cook.”
Her lips parted. He— “Malcolm,” she breathed. “You are such a romantic.”
He smacked his lips and glanced around. “Don’t you forget it.”
She laughed. Rolling toward him, she grabbed his face and kissed it twice. “We can’t have it sitting in there any longer.” She scrambled onto her bare feet and snatched up her wet chemise to cover herself. She cringed, given how cold it was to the touch and tossed it, knowing she was better off without it.
Padding over to the cupboard that was still open, she peered in. In the shadows off to the side, just beyond the wooden spoons, was a small velvet box. Biting her lip, she reached in and plucked it up. Cradling it in her hand, she hurried back to Malcolm. Sitting next to him, so they were thigh to naked thigh, her eyes widened at the gold inlay of initials on the lid of the box: RBR. “Rundell, Bridge and Rundell,” she gushed in disbelief. “They are jewelers to the king!”
Malcolm half-nodded. “So I’m told. Over on Ludgate Hill.”
She frantically lifted the lid and gasped. It wasn’t a simple gold band. It was a gold band with a glinting ruby the size of a roasted chestnut. She still gaped. “We can afford this?”
“Maybe.”
She paused. “Can we or can’t we?”
He nudged her. “Maybe is my version of yes.”
A breath escaped her. “Thank the heavens, because I’m already too in love with it to let it go.” She took it out of the box and held it out to him. “Here.”
He lowered his gaze to the ring and paused. “What?”
She kept holding it out. “You’re supposed to put it on my finger. It’s rather anticlimactic for me to do it.”
He cleared his throat. “Right.” He took it and lifting her hand, he turned her palm up, kissed it and then nipped it before turning it back over and gently sliding it onto her ring finger.
She smiled and held it up, admiring the way it glinted against the candlelight around them. “It’s so beautiful.” She lowered her hand and eyed him. “Malcolm?”
“Yes?”
“Can we afford to send some money to Mrs. Henderson? She wasn’t particularly the kindest person I ever knew, but she always ensured I never starved and I would like to return the favor given my aunt never will.”
“I’ll ensure she receives a generous amount. Enough to make her pray harder than she already does.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” He nuzzled his stubbled chin against her. “Are you ready to go to Persia and live like a princess half the time and a British lady here half the time? We can alternate. That way, you enjoy both worlds and I get to see my brother.”
She paused. “Do I have to go to anywhere? Can’t we stay here?”
He paused, his smile fading.
She snorted and poked him twice. “I expect you to blindfold me and carry me on that boat. Or it won’t happen.”
He smirked. “I’ll do more than blindfold you, I’ll tie you up.”
Months later, Persia
The As-Din Qajar Palace
The heat of the late September sun penetrated Malcolm’s bare shoulders as he dipped and re-dipped the cloth of his turban into the water of the pool he waded in. Squeezing out just enough of the water from the bundled linen to retain a fair amount of moisture, he wrapped the long strip of material around his head, streaming it down around his neck and shoulders. A well-pleasured breath escaped him as he reveled in its coolness.
He was celebrating the fact that Russia and Persia had negotiated another treaty.
Which meant…more time to play.
“Look, Papa, look!” Jacob called out, his bare feet slapping the smooth stone leading to the oversized pool of water in the courtyard whose walls were covered with vines. “I’ll do it without stopping!” He skid to the edge, stopped, adjusted his bathing clothes from out of his rear and then pinched his nose and jumped into the water. He paddled his arms across the vast pool. “It’s so hot. Can’t we sleep in the water tonight?”
Malcolm bit back a laugh, spraying water toward the rascal with his arm and called out, “When you grow gills and learn how to breathe like a fish, we’ll talk. Right now, just enjoy…” He paused as a petite figure breezed past the pool. He let out a low, long whistle.
Flowing red and gold silk flapped against the incoming hot wind, outlining the curvy figure of a pregnant woman draped from head to toe in a chādar clasped into place by gold buttons. Draped on her shoulder was a leather satchel filled with arrows. In her hand was a bow.
The woman had found a sport worthy of her.
Swimming his way toward Leona, he came to the edge of the pool and propped an arm against the stone ledge. “Do you need a target, Lady Brayton?” he playfully drawled.
She paused, only her bright green eyes visible through the flowing silk. Lowering the veil to reveal her entire face, her mouth quirked. “I do. But I love you too much to let you die.”
He coughed out a laugh and pushed himself up and out of the water in one sweep, letting water spray and spill across the stone as he made his way toward her. “I appreciate the fact that you love me.” He glanced back at Jacob who was already paddling his way toward them and quickly leaned in and captured her lips. “Enjoy your afternoon. Jacob and I are going to swim for another hour and then head into the village w
ith Nasser. We’ll see you at the banquet tonight. I’m thrilled the shah took the news so well. According to Nasser, the man knew all along but was waiting to hear it.”
She smiled. “I’m so happy all is as it should be.”
“So am I.” He cleared his throat theatrically and tapped at the leather satchel with arrows. “Are you getting any better or are you still accidentally shooting camels three miles away?”
She gave him a withering look and stepped back. “I’ve been practicing every day.” Yanking out an arrow, she propped it against the side of the bow and said, “Pick a target. Anywhere in the courtyard. I’ll decimate it.”
He smirked and playfully hit his chest twice. “Right here.”
She swung toward him and aimed, fully pulling back the string until her arms quivered.
His eyes widened as he popped up a hand. “Ey, ey! Woman, you had better stop taking things out of the bedchamber. You’re getting out of hand.”
She grinned and swung away toward a palm tree several feet away. Squinting, she released it and let the arrow effortlessly punch into the trunk of the tree.
Malcolm’s brows went up. He lowered his hand in disbelief. “If I wasn’t in love with you before I am now,” he drawled. “Damn.”
She waggled her brows and then called out to Jacob, “Keep your father out of trouble in the village! You know how the women flock to him when he wears a turban.”
Jacob grappled up and out of the water. “I’ll write down every woman’s name, Mama!”
Malcolm snorted and pointed at the boy. “You do that. She severely punishes me for things like that.”
Leona tsked. “Mind your tongue. He doesn’t need to hear it.” She paused and rubbed her belly, softening her tone. “And neither does this one.” Blowing him and Jacob each a kiss, she smiled and breezed onward to retrieve the arrow from the tree.
Lowering himself to the warmth of the stone, Malcolm let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and wondered how he ever got so damn lucky to be able to say he had found a woman capable of giving him…everything.
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OTHER BOOKS IS THE SCHOOL OF GALLANTRY SERIES
Mistress of Pleasure, Book 1
Lord of Pleasure, Book 2
Lady of Pleasure, Book 3
Romancing Lady Stone, Book 3.5
Night of Pleasure, Book 4
Master of Pleasure, Book 5
AND COMING SOON...
The Duke of Andelot, Book 6, the Finale
Master of Pleasure Page 23
