A Taste of Sin

by Mason, Connie

  His hooded gaze searched the room for the lush figure he remembered so well from the previous night. He could see nothing beyond the circle of light provided by a flickering candle placed on the bedside table. His gaze settled on the empty bed, turned down invitingly. His nostrils twitched as he caught an intriguing whiff of her perfume—the same scent he’d noticed last night when he’d held her in his arms and kissed her into submission. Roses, with a subtle underlying hint of something that belonged solely to the woman herself.

  “My lady? Where are you?” His voice was husky with grinding need, the kind he hadn’t felt in far too long.

  She stepped into the puddle of light, and Sinjun exhaled sharply. She was a feast for the eyes, dressed in something white and gauzy, demure yet highly erotic, so sheer he could see through both the gown and shift beneath.

  Her nipples were plainly visible, two dark peaks cresting creamy mounds more tempting than the finest wine. His gaze roved downward, past the incredibly tiny waist, over sweetly curved hips, and down pale, luminous thighs to trim ankles. Suddenly his gaze jerked back to her thighs and the dark triangle sheltering her woman’s mound. The groan began deep down in his belly and rumbled through his chest.

  “My God! You’re lovelier than I dared hope.” His hand slid below his waist. “I’ve been rock hard all day just thinking about tonight.” He opened his arms. “Come to me, goddess.”

  Christy conquered the sudden onslaught of fear and stepped into his arms. She’d thought of nothing all day but what tonight would be like, and it couldn’t compare with reality. This was her wedding night, whether Sinjun realized it or not. Then his arms closed around her and her initial fear was swamped by other, more potent feelings. She lifted her eyes to his, to meet the challenge of his gaze, and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes fell, and wordlessly, she lifted her face, offering her lips.

  He took them, framing her face with his hands as their lips fused. Boldly he pressed his loins into the cradle of her thighs. His hands slid lower, brazenly outlining the contours of her bottom. He filled his hands with her flesh and kneaded gently. She stiffened, then relaxed as she remembered her reason for being here and what Sinjun intended to do to her. Heat spread, flushing her skin as their bodies meshed into one.

  She felt the rigid proof of his desire, felt his heavy member pressing against her belly. He held her against him a long time, kissing her, slowly awakening passions she never knew existed. She closed her eyes and sank beneath another wave of sensation as his tongue surged deeply into her mouth. She was panting softly when he broke off the kiss and lifted her into his arms, so flustered she could barely think, much less string coherent words together.

  Struggling to collect her wits, Christy remembered that she wasn’t supposed to enjoy this, but her body betrayed her as Sinjun took her mouth again. The evocative caress of his tongue, the unhurried possession of her mouth sent molten heat surging through her veins. It settled hot and heavy in her loins. The force of their combined desire stunned her. Moments later she found herself lying fully clothed on the bed with Sinjun leaning over her, his features dark and predatory, his eyes seething pools of liquid fire. A heady languor weighted her limbs, slowed her senses.

  She didn’t resist when Sinjun gently turned her, his nimble fingers making short work of the fastenings holding her dress together. He was very good at this, she thought dimly.

  A master of seduction.

  The unspoken words reverberated through her head, returning her abruptly to reality. Lord Sin was a remorseless rake, and she must remember that she was just another conquest to him. A woman to bed and then discard after she had lost her heart to him, or he tired of her, whichever came first. But Christy had resolved beforehand to protect her heart against Lord Sin’s seductive charm. What she wanted from Sinjun had nothing to do with her heart, and she had no intention of losing it along the way to obtaining her goal. Allowing Sinjun to seduce her was necessary, she reminded herself. Definitely not something she should enjoy. Unfortunately her body refused to listen to her mind.

  Christy was achingly aware of the muscled hardness of his body. Of her nipples pressed against his chest. Of his tightly controlled passion waiting to be unleashed. She should have been frightened, but she wasn’t.

  Christy started violently when Sinjun peeled the dress from her upper body and pulled the tape holding her chemise together. The moment the edges loosened, he pulled both gown and chemise down to her waist and stared at her breasts as if they were the first he’d ever seen. A nervous giggle slipped past her lips at the incongruity of that thought.

  Sinjun’s gaze slid upward from her breasts to meet hers. A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “Do I amuse you, my lady? Do you find me clumsy?”

  “Oh, no, my lord,” Christy protested. “You are neither clumsy nor amusing.”

  His eyebrows shot upward. “I hope, before our association ends, you will find me fascinating. I’d hate to be remembered as a bore.”

  She gulped. Lord Sin a bore? The moon would fall to the earth before anyone would think Lord Sin a boring fellow. “You do not bore me, my lord.” She was more than a little stunned to realize that she actually meant it.

  He touched her breasts, molding his hands around them. “My name is Sinjun.”

  She felt her breasts swell and tauten as his fingers closed around them. When he lowered his mouth to a ruched nipple, already excruciatingly sensitive, and sucked it into his mouth, a sigh hissed through her teeth. His tongue swirled around the hardened crest, creating an ebb and surge that battered her senses.

  “Oh…”

  “Do you like that, sweet Flora?”

  “I…” Like it? She adored it. “Aye, I like it.”

  “Does your husband arouse you like this?”

  She flushed and looked away. “He’s very old.”

  “I need to see all of you,” he said as he tugged her gown and chemise down past her hips.

  Heat surged through her as he tossed her clothing to the floor and gazed at her body, now naked but for her white silk stockings held in place above her knees with white ribbons. She could tell he liked what he saw, for his eyes darkened with an intensity that made her heart beat faster and harder. Then he removed her shoes and peeled both stockings down her legs.

  Sinjun felt his control shatter. The remaining shreds had been removed and tossed aside with her stockings. He felt like an animal cursed with the instinctive need to mate, fevered with it, desperate. His body was rigid, tense with excitement, eager to partake of the feast temptingly arrayed before him. With a growl of impatience, he threw off his coat, undid his neckcloth, and unbuttoned his shirt with such haste that buttons flew in all directions. His boots hit the floor, and his breeches and stockings followed in short order. He turned back to Flora, frowning when he saw that her eyes were tightly closed.

  “There is nothing to be frightened of, love. I know I’m probably bigger than your husband, but I swear I’ll not hurt you.”

  Christy’s eyes opened slowly, oh, so slowly, then closed quickly, oh so quickly. What she had seen in those fleeting moments was more thrilling than frightening. Sinjun was abundantly endowed every place she looked. His sleek body was thickly muscled in all the right places. Wide chest, narrow waist, slim hips, corded thighs. Though she’d tried not to look at that place where his manhood rose from a tangled nest of wiry dark hair, she could not turn her eyes away. He was magnificent. Everything she’d ever imagined a man should be and more.

  “Flora, open your eyes.” His voice, a seductive purr, slammed through her with devastating effect. Her eyes flew open.

  “Look at me, Flora. I’m not an old man. I’m young and vigorous and fully capable of giving pleasure. That is the reason you invited me to your bed, isn’t it?”

  Incapable of coherent speech, Christy nodded. That was all the encouragement he seemed to need as he knelt on the bed and leaned over her. Dark hair spilled over his forehead, adding to his rakish appeal as he lowered
his head and licked her nipples. The pure pleasure of it caught her by surprise, and a moan slipped past her lips. She tried to remember that she wasn’t supposed to enjoy this, but her mind was too befuddled to think.

  Her moan must have pleased him, for he raised his head and gave her a predatory grin. Then he kissed her. His kiss was rough, sharp-edged with need. His lips were hard, devouring, plundering hers and demanding a response. She tried to crush her enthusiasm, aware that she was just another woman in Sinjun’s long list of conquests, but the man was too persuasive, too experienced to allow her to remain passive. Without conscious thought her arms crept around his neck and she opened her mouth to the subtle probing of his tongue. He tasted of sin, of danger, of dark pleasure.

  Her heart pounded, roared in her ears, drowning out reason. After an eternity his lips left hers and roved downward, seeking more intimate territory. She crooned a soft melody, certain she’d never heard those sounds that came from her throat. His kisses blazed a fiery path down her breasts, then he paused to rest his head low on her stomach. When she felt his breath close to her private place, she lurched sharply upward.

  “Sinjun, no!” His hot breath stirred the gleaming curls protecting her mound. Frightened of the feelings he was arousing in her, she tugged on his hair. He raised his head and grinned at her.

  “Do you like that?”

  “ I … I’ve never done … I mean…”

  “I understand. This is new to you. Very well, I’ll stop if you insist. But I swear you’ll soon beg me to taste you more fully.”

  Christy released a shaky breath. She hadn’t prepared herself for the kind of pervasive intimacy Sinjun demanded. She knew what happened between men and women, how the sex act was accomplished, but what Sinjun wanted was sinful, wicked, unthinkable.

  Christy’s relief was short-lived as Sinjun lowered his head and kissed her there, between her legs. She felt a jolt of something so intense it defied description. Then just as quickly he moved his body upward, until he rested fully against her. Breast to breast, thigh to thigh, his staff probing ruthlessly between her legs.

  She shifted uncomfortably as he inserted his slick head into her tight passage and pushed relentlessly. She clamped down hard on her tongue to stifle the groan of pain that rose unbidden to her lips. He shoved himself deeper, then suddenly went still, his eyes narrowed, his expression arrested.

  “You’re a virgin!”

  She knew he’d notice. A man of Sinjun’s experience would know everything there was to know about a woman. “Aye, does it matter?”

  Sinjun thought about it for a moment and decided it didn’t matter to him if it didn’t matter to her. But she did owe him an explanation. Not now, however. He was too hard, too needy, too hot to waste time on lengthy explanations. His answer was to flex his hips and break through the membrane shielding her innocence.

  She cried out and lurched upward, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “I’m sorry, but there is no other way,” he whispered, gentling her with his voice. “I promise it will get better soon.”

  He moved his hips slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size. Never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed he was to deflower a virgin—not that it didn’t please him to be the first with her. He withdrew, flexed, and seated himself more deeply inside her. His control was badly battered, his restraint desperately taxed. But he’d promised her pleasure, and Lord Sin always delivered. He had never in his life left a woman wanting.

  Sinjun sent up a prayer of gratitude when he felt Flora’s first tentative response. Perspiration dotted his brow and dripped into his eyes. His teeth were gritted so hard that his jaw ached, and he was so close to the edge he feared he would tumble over.

  “Ah, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “That’s it. Move with me. Feel it, live it, flow with it.”

  He thrust hard and was rewarded with the subtle movement of her hips. There was no holding him back now. Thrust and withdraw, in and out, again and again. She was responding beautifully, every bit as passionate as he had imagined. Her small, enthusiastic cries were music to his ears, her short, gasping breaths a gift from the gods.

  He was losing control. His body tingled with the beginning of his climax. He looked down at the woman straining beneath him and was deeply gratified when he saw she was nearly there. Her eyes were glazed over, and short, small gasping sounds escaped from her open mouth. He bared his teeth and concentrated on the goal within their reach.

  “Come to me now, sweetheart. You’re almost there. Don’t hold back. Oh, God, I’m … I can’t…”

  He heard her call out his name, felt her body contract, felt her tight passage squeeze around him, and he spewed forth his seed. He came in a great, gushing upheaval of body and spirit so intense that it defied description. He’d always enjoyed the games associated with sex—the chase, the seduction, the ultimate possession—but nothing this earth-shattering had ever happened before.

  Did Lady Flora Randall possess mysterious powers that transcended simple earthly pleasure? Nothing as sublime as what he had just experienced could be considered mundane. If he were a poet he’d describe it as an affair inspired by heaven.

  Chapter 3

  Her eyes were closed. Her head rested on his shoulder. He stared at her curiously. What was there about her that seemed so familiar? Nothing about the mysterious Lady Flora made sense. He had enjoyed her immensely and knew he had given her pleasure despite her innocence.

  Why was she, a married lady, still a virgin?

  It mystified him, but he didn’t let it deter him from his course. There was so much he wanted to teach her. He looked forward with relish to all the nights to come, when they would explore every nuance of sexual pleasure together. That thought brought an instant resurgence of lust, and a groan slipped past his lips.

  She must have felt him harden against her, for she blinked up at him. He gave her an owlish smile. “The night is still young and I’m ravenous.”

  “You’re hungry? My maid has gone to bed, but if you’d like, we can raid the kitchen.”

  His grin widened. “You truly are innocent, aren’t you? I usually prefer experienced women, for they rarely demand things I can’t or am not willing to give, but you’re a refreshing change. Why didn’t you tell me you were untouched? Has everything you told me been a lie? Is mere truly a husband?”

  “Aye, there is a husband. He … he’s impotent and cannot perform in bed or produce a child. He needs an heir and approves of what I am doing. He insisted that I come to town, find a man to my liking, and … well, he knows having a child would make me happy and he cares about my happiness.”

  Dismayed, Sinjun stared at her. Did the kind of man Flora just describe really exist? Could a man be so anxious for an heir that he would encourage his wife to let another man impregnate her? If he were Flora’s husband he would never allow her to bed another man, no matter how old and decrepit he became or how desperately he wanted an heir.

  “How very cavalier of him. I would not be so generous were you my wife. On the other hand,” he said, drawing her against him, “I’m deliriously happy with the choice you made. I’m curious to know why you chose me. Dare I hope I’m the only man who appealed to you?”

  “You may hope anything,” Christy said with asperity. “As I explained to you last night, I heard you were a man without principles, so I assumed you wouldn’t make demands upon me should I bear a child from our association. It didn’t hurt, however, that I found you physically attractive.

  “And you’re married,” she continued, “just as I am, and therefore not interested in commitments or lasting relationships. When I return to my husband, as I must, I know you will have no trouble finding another mistress. Men like you are interested only in casual affairs. Am I not right?”

  “This conversation is beyond the pale,” Sinjun groused. Her description of him made him sound callous and shallow. “In all my days I’ve never met a woman, and there have been many in my life, who became my lover for the rea
sons you just specified. I think I’ve just been insulted.”

  “I thought I was speaking the truth. Besides, I want the terms of our affair clearly understood.”

  Sinjun stilled as her insult sparked his anger. “What exactly are those terms, my lady? Besides wanting to take my child back to Cornwall with you and passing it off as your husband’s? What we just shared tonight indicates that we are remarkably compatible.

  “You have a passionate nature, whether you realize it or not, and if you want to become pregnant, who am I to discourage you? If you’re serious about what you just told me, I want you for myself. I want you for my mistress.”

  Christy regarded him solemnly. This relationship was progressing faster than she had expected. A perverse devil inside her made her ask, “Will you remain faithful to me during the length of our association?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Those are my terms.” If Sinjun stayed faithful to her during the three months she remained in town, she suspected it would be three months longer than he had ever been faithful in his marriage.

  “Very well, I accept your terms. But the same holds true for you. I will be your only lover for the duration of our alliance, and you will take no other man to your bed. Shall I rent a house for you, or will yours do? I’ll expect you to accompany me to social events, of course. And to let me visit whenever I feel the need.”

  He grinned at her. “And speaking of need…” He grasped her hand and brought it to his loins. “See what you do to me? I can’t recall when I’ve been so quickly aroused by a woman. You’re deliriously different from any woman I’ve every known, my lady.”

  Christy took his words with a grain of salt. A notorious rake like Sinjun probably said that to all the women he bedded. He oozed charm from every pore; she suspected he could charm the wallpaper off the walls and women out of their petticoats simply by flashing that devastating smile of his. Her thoughts scattered when he lowered his head and kissed her.