He held her mons and slid one finger experimentally along her cleft already slick with moisture. “Ah, so wet and ready for my eager cock. But first, you deserve even more pleasure.”
His fingertip found her swollen clit, and he caressed it with a merciless rhythm.
Régine groaned as the heat pooled intensely around his relentless finger. She spread her legs wider in invitation.
“Tell me how badly you want me,” he rasped.
“Take me!” Her body ignited. “Take me hard! Now!”
“With pleasure.”
He positioned himself between her legs and penetrated her with one hard, quick push of his slender hips, and settled himself in for a wild ride between her thighs. His thrusts of possession were those of a rutting stallion, fast and deep, and Régine found the raw brutality of it so exhilarating that a sharp yelp of ribald laughter burst from her throat.
Her pleasure enflamed Darius further and he increased the tempo, moving faster, in and out, in and out, the bed creaking such sweet music from the violence of his lovemaking. His face was the twisted mask of a man tortured by pleasure, the cords of his neck visible with the strain. She rubbed his shoulders, slick and damp with sweat, and lifted her own hips to meet his every thrust.
Darius stared at her out of compelling wild eyes. “Touch yourself.”
She pinched her nipples, then slipped her finger down to her pubic thatch to stimulate her clit, feeling the movement of Darius’s penis as she rubbed in a frenzy of desire.
Their moans were loud and mindless as they lost control in perfect synch, each galloping toward an elusive climax that hovered just out a range.
Régine wrapped her legs around his and reached up to dig her nails into his buttocks to spur him on. Darius flinched and moaned, but increased his pace at her command. Just as Régine felt her own hard-won climax start, the building contractions squeezing his cock inside her, Darius threw back his head, bellowed, “Mine!” and came again and again and again.
When they were both finished, he rolled off her to rest by her side, but he flung one arm across her ribs to imprison her.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he said with a contented sigh.
“But you’ll die with a smile on your face.” She snuggled closer, breathing in the delightful musk of their lovemaking clinging to their damp bodies.
His smile died, and an animal ferocity turned his gray eyes to steel. “When I saw how badly Dragomilov had hurt you, I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.”
“I could see murder in your eyes, but I’m glad you didn’t. I wouldn’t want you to have his death on your conscience, as much as he deserved it for what he did to me and Odile.” She stroked his hip. “We owe Ivy Doucette a debt of gratitude.”
“One we can never repay. She was very brave to defy Dragomilov and come to me. If she hadn’t, Anatole and I never would’ve found you in time. You’d be in Russia by now, at his mercy.”
“I wonder what she’ll do now?”
“She’s disappeared. When the police took Dragomilov and his accomplices into custody, he kept demanding that they bring Ivy to him. The police searched the house, but she was nowhere to be found. Finally, the head groom told them she’d taken one of the carriages into the city. Dragomilov was furious.”
Régine shook her head. “Talk about audacity, kidnapping a woman and bringing her to the same house where you’re keeping your mistress.”
Darius propped herself up on one arm. “Do you remember the diamond necklace Dragomilov bought for you?”
“How could I ever forget?”
“Well, evidently Ivy absconded with it for parts unknown.”
Her eyes widened. “She stole the necklace? Those diamonds are worth a small fortune.” She burst out laughing. “Good for her! And I thought she was going to help me because of all I’d offered her.”
“Evidently Mademoiselle Doucette had her own agenda.”
Wherever Ivy landed, Régine hoped she would have a long, happy life with a kind, generous man who was worthy of her, like Darius. At least the lucky Ivy had escaped Dragomilov; Odile had not.
“I’m glad you pressed charges against that bastard,” Darius said, “even though he’ll never serve any time in prison.”
She kissed his cheek. “At least he got sent back to Russia and will not be allowed to set foot in Paris for a long, long time.”
“Banishment is too good for him.”
“We must be satisfied with that.”
“Enough about Dragomilov.” Darius closed his eyes. “First, we shall rest, and when we awaken, we have champagne to drink and a wedding to plan.”
Régine closed her eyes with a contented sigh and dreamed of her wedding day and a long, happy life with the man she loved.
Wedding Announcement in Le Figaro
Regina Willett, formerly Régine Laflamme, Queen of Fire, married Darius Granger, the Earl of Clarridge, on May 23 in a civil ceremony at Maxim’s.
The bride, radiant in a deep green silk gown embroidered with dramatic peacock feathers on the skirt and train, was given away by the acclaimed journalist Anatole Beaucaire. She was attended by Lady Katherine Granger, the future Duchess of Sefton, her sister the Lady Emma Granger, and Miss Molly Wicks.
The groom’s father sent his regrets.
About the Author
Sandrine O’Shea is the pen name of an author of fifteen historical romances published by traditional print publishers, and she’s eagerly looking forward to the release of her first e-book. When she’s not writing or reading romances and mysteries, she enjoys beading, wandering through art galleries and craft fairs, going to dog shows, and occasionally baking something fattening and delicious. She and her husband share their New England home with their cat, Mrs. Grumbles, who can’t understand her parents’ affections for dogs. Write to her at [email protected] and visit her website www.sandrineoshea.com.
If it feels right, do it…even if it could get you killed.
Honor Bound
© 2010 Myla Jackson
Bound and Tied, Book 1
After months of isolation—and celibacy—claim partners Zach Braun and Jake Thompson finally discover gold. And, as their celebration spills over into forbidden lust, an unexpected sexual attraction to each other rises. Then they discover they’re not alone…and the spy is trying to make off with their clothes and their gold.
On the run from an Indian captor, parson’s widow Honor Whitaker is hungry, desperate, and determined to never let another man control her. Stumbling upon two men touching each other in an extraordinary way, she finds herself mesmerized by their tryst. And scandalously aroused by a totally different kind of hunger.
Catching the little thief is easy, but Zach can think of only one way to silence Honor’s panicked babbling. Kiss her senseless. One sample of her delightful lips leads to more…then to a night where Zach and Jake show her that a man’s control over her body isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Even as the three learn to let go of the notion that pleasure is the devil’s work, someone else is watching. Someone who’s out to reclaim what’s his.
Warning: This title contains hot ménage a trois scenes, man love, bondage, and two lonely, sexy cowboys/miners who find that catching a thief only takes a little bit of rope and a whole lot of lovin'!
Enjoy the following excerpt for Honor Bound:
Using the last of the lye soap they’d purchased from a merchant down in Idaho Springs last fall, Zach had scrubbed his clothes before stripping free of them and laying them flat to dry on a nearby boulder. Naked, he went to work scraping the stink out of his skin from the last couple months of hard work in the mine they’d eked out of the Rocky Mountain hillside on their claim.
Clean for the first time in days, Zach floated on his back, staring up through the aspens to the clear blue sky above. “Whatcha gonna buy with your half?”
Jake stripped his shirt off and flung it over the rocks, then rubbed river sand in his armpits and across
his chest. “I’m gonna buy the biggest steak, the hardest liquor and the prettiest woman in Idaho Springs. How about you?” He ducked his head under the water and ran his fingers through the long, reddish-gold locks. When he surfaced, he shook his hair, flinging water over Zach.
“Hey!” Zach went under and came up ready for a fight. He jumped on Jake’s naked back and pushed him under, holding him down.
Beneath the surface, Jake hunkered low, grabbed Zach’s leg and pushed up and out of the water, tossing Zach high into the air.
They wrestled and splashed, too excited to feel the cold of the stream created by high country snow melts. Nor could it dampen the arousal Zach felt at touching Jake’s naked body, a secret Zach would never tell Jake for fear of losing the only friend he had on this godforsaken mountain.
When his skin started to shrivel and his balls began turning blue, Zach cried uncle and crawled out of the water to dry on a giant boulder bathed in the sunshine.
Jake climbed up on the rock next to him and stretched out.
If Zach hadn’t been a man, he’d find Jake…well, too darned attractive. As suntanned and well-muscled as Jake was, Zach was surprised every woman in the Pikes Peak Mining Country wasn’t after him.
Then again, there weren’t a whole lot of women in the mountains who weren’t already hitched or whores. Jake deserved a good woman. Shoot fire, they both deserved a good woman. But how the hell were they supposed to find one when they lived so far out in the hills? It took two days of climbing to get down to the nearest town.
Jake lifted up on his elbow and smiled across at Zach. “Well, what are you going to buy?” He glanced down at his cock, swelled and ready for action. “I don’t think I can wait a couple more days to get down to Idaho Springs. I’m already itching for some lovin’.”
Zach’s own cock swelled at the sight of Jake’s growing in size. The mention of women made it even worse. They hadn’t been completely naked since last summer. “I guess I’ll get me a female.”
“Yeah, the sooner the better. Been so long since I fucked me a woman, you’re beginning to look good to me.” Jake stared across at Zach, the smile slipping from his face, his mouth tightening. “Strike that. Didn’t mean that to come out that way.”
Zach laughed. His laughter did sound a bit strained, even to his own ears. “Know what you mean, buddy. You’re a fine specimen of a man. Any woman would be proud to have you.”
“You ain’t hard to look at yourself. Now that you’ve scraped off that beard, all you need is to slather on some of that fancy cologne the dandies wear in Denver and you’d be right charmin’. Ain’t no reason you couldn’t catch you some sweet young thing to get hitched to.”
His mind on the man next to him, the only human he’d spoken to in months, Zach could hardly picture a woman, much less a pretty one, he’d like lookin’ at for the rest of his days.
Squashing down the disturbing attraction he’d been feeling toward his claim partner, he sighed and lay back on the rock. “Who are we foolin’? What woman in her right mind would want to hole up in a shack with a couple of galoots for months on end?”
Jake didn’t answer.
Maybe he saw the wisdom in Zach’s words and silently agreed.
The next thing Zach knew, Jake had leaped onto his rock, grabbed him under the arms and legs and flung him into the pool. “Speak for yerself, old man. I’m getting me a woman if it’s the last thing I do.”
Zach hit the surface, the chill robbing him of breath. He went under and came up in time for Jake to land a big splash next to him, blasting him with a spray of water that left him spluttering.
Jake jerked his leg out from beneath him and Zach went under, grabbing for whatever handhold he could get, taking Jake back down with him.
When they finally came up for air, they stood face-to-face, close enough to touch…if they dared.
Inside, Zach knew his feelings for Jake were wrong. Men weren’t supposed to lust after men. What would people say?
Hell, who would know? They lived so far in the back country the only living creatures they saw were wolves, deer and a few stray Indians.
If he wanted to touch Jake, he could and no one would be the wiser. His hand was halfway there before he realized what he was doing and jerked it back.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Jake asked. He reached out and laid his hand over Zach’s heart. “You want me as bad as I want you, don’t you?”
Zach shook his head, even as he wanted to shout, Yes.
Jake’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “I know what you’re thinkin’. It ain’t right. Men aren’t supposed to like each other. You know…that way.” His hand slid down Zach’s torso and into the water where even the cool mountain stream couldn’t shrink his arousal.
When Jake’s hand circled his cock, Zach jumped back. “Damn, Jake. It ain’t right.” Revulsion warred with desire. Jake’s hand had felt good. Damn good and Zach wanted more.
“Who’s around to say it ain’t right?” Jake waved at the forest around them before his gaze settled on Zach’s face. “I’d wondered what it would feel like to touch you there.” He closed the distance between them again. “Don’t you wonder?” He lifted Zach’s hand and guided it to his rock-hard dick. “See? The sky ain’t gonna crash in. The world ain’t comin’ to an end. We’re just two men.”
“Two men sinnin’.” Zach’s fingers curled around Jake’s cock, reveling in the rush of heat pooling in his own groin. He backed away, his hand falling to his side. “We best get back to the shack. We got work to do before we can make that trip to Idaho Springs. Never know how long this good weather’s gonna hold out.”
Jake sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “Not yet. I want more.” He stared across at Zach. The way his gray-eyed gaze locked on him made Zach’s cock swell even larger.
If he didn’t find some relief soon, he’d explode. “You’re killin’ me, Jake,” Zach said. “If we weren’t such good friends, I’d punch you.”
Jake glanced down at Zach’s engorged member. “I just know I can help you there.”
Zach shook his head, the horror of what would happen if the men of the hills found out making him resist when all he wanted was Jake’s hands on him again.
“Let me.” Jake reached out again and this time Zach didn’t back away. Seeing Jake naked made him hornier than a boy with his first whore.
As Jake’s fingers closed around his cock, Zach shut his eyes. “We really need to get to Idaho Springs and find us some women.”
“We will. Soon enough. But for now…” Jake smoothed his hand over the length of Zach’s shaft.
A passionate education leads to dangerous love…
Breaking Free
© 2010 Anya Richards
For Claire Montjoye, widowhood is no release from scandal. Used as sexual currency by her notoriously libertine husband, she longs for a life of quiet respectability. But the ton’s disapproval ensures she will never be truly accepted—and any man openly seeking her company will be tainted.
When Xavier Westbourne pulls her away from peril, his touch fills her with yearning for unattainable dreams. Accepting his invitation to the opera is not only unwise for him, it’s dangerous to her lonely heart. Perhaps taking him as a lover will be enough.
Scion of one of Society’s most upright families, Xavier knows propriety as a cold, brutal master. Having endured one loveless marriage, he refuses to repeat the mistake, even for his motherless son. Yet Claire easily breaks through his wall of reserve, and her offer of private instruction in the sexual arts is irresistible.
Consumed by passion, overwhelmed by ecstasy, they discover something neither thought existed—the freedom to open their hearts. Yet not all the horrors of the past are content to remain hidden by the mists of time. And suddenly their very survival depends on trusting that love really can conquer all.
Warning: A Regency hero who can’t keep his hands to himself and a heroine who encourages him in the most shocking, explicit manner. If con
flicted heroes, heroines with a past, velvet, mirrors, self-love or the occasional extra pair of feminine legs in the bed offend, this book is not for you.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Breaking Free:
“What is this room, Claire?”
He did not know why it was important for him to ask, but suddenly it was. He recognized his transience in her life, realized the gift she offered him, yet felt a strange reluctance to share her with the ghosts of her past.
Claire’s chin rose at an almost combative angle, her eyes shuttered against his intrusion, and he thought she would refuse to answer, or ask him to leave. Then her face softened and one shoulder shrugged in a self-conscious motion.
“It is a play room, a place where fantasies can come to life. It was here I began to truly understand myself, to learn what I was, and what I could be when necessary.”
She looked around, as if seeing it for the first time, and smiled.
“There is nothing to fear here, for it is a different world from that which exists outside the doors. Once it was my world, and now…” she turned in a circle, arms flung wide, “…I give it to you.”
There was a forced note to her explanation, which did little to soothe the final misgivings he harboured. But somehow they faded when she spoke again, an odd mixture of confidence and hesitancy in her voice.
“I promise, if you decide to return after tonight, this room will be completely ready for you. I will see to it tomorrow, but tonight…” she shrugged and smiled, “…tonight the bed cannot be slept in and I am not in the mood to wait. There is something I long to do, something perhaps selfish, although I hope it will be pleasurable for you. Will you indulge me, Xavier?”
Her low voice, flushed cheeks and gleaming eyes begged for his trust. Wordless, rooted to the spot, he found the strength to nod, once, and her smile lit up the room.
Time fractured, stretched and contracted in turns, each movement of her approach taking a year, but each touch of her fingers far too fleeting.
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