Seven Nights of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors Read online

  She thrust out a lip. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Bringing you pleasure.”

  “It is not pleasurable in the least!”

  His face fell. Tragically, he removed his hand. “It is not?”

  “No! You are driving me mad!”

  She had no idea why he beamed. “So you do like this?” He resumed his evil torture. With his mouth, he tormented her nipples as well.

  A storm took her. It was wild and windy and buffeted her around, twined in pleasure and some form of insanity. She cared about nothing but this. His hands, his mouth on her. The scrape of his beard over her skin, his breath, his scent, his whispered urgings.

  Her tension grew and shifted, sank deep to the core of her being. It was unbearable and tantalizing at the same time.

  She writhed beneath his touch, sloshing water onto the floor and not caring in the least. It was manic and mad, delightful and daring. She felt free and confined at the same time.

  And then, something claimed her. Some bliss she had never imagined, some rapture no one had dared tell her about, because if they had, she would have done this before, and often.

  And when she thought the pleasure could not be more exquisite, he did something. Something that burned a bit, but only in the most dazzling way. He thrust two fingers into her. Deep.

  He touched her there, some sacred spot. Some arcane confluence of all that was holy and profane. And she imploded. Her body moved of its own accord, closing on him and arching into him and dancing in a delirium all of its own.

  As for her mind, she seemed to have lost it for that instant, that eternity.

  She floated on the water and on the ether, wreathed in pleasure as he stroked her gently and brought her back to earth.

  She probably would have sunk beneath the bathwater, had he not held her up. With those two fingers. Still buried in her.

  She blinked the tears from her eyes and stared at him. He stared back, his eyes reddened, a muscle working in his cheek.

  “That was lovely,” he said.

  Her laugh was nearly a wail. “It was for me. Why was it for you?”

  “It was a delight for me to watch.”

  She did not know how to respond, so she asked, “What was that?”

  “A climax.” He winked. “That is what you get when your partner takes his time.”

  “Oooh. I enjoyed that very much.”

  “I noticed.” He moved his fingers, those deep inside her, once more and new ribbons of excitement danced along every nerve.

  “Oooh. There’s more?”

  He grinned. “Most definitely more. Are you ready to come out of the water?”

  She pouted. “No. I want to do that again.”

  “You’re starting to wrinkle.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers which were, in point of fact, a little wrinkly. “Besides, we can do this again…in the bed.” His voice cracked a little.

  “Oh, all right.” She huffed a sigh and lifted herself from the water. He was there with a towel and, after taking a minute to study her form, he wrapped her in it and lifted her against his chest.

  She curled her arms around his neck and nestled her nose there. Unable to resist his scent, she licked him and then nibbled.

  He almost tripped.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHAT ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH had he been thinking, promising to take it slow?

  Oh certainly, she had been perfection in her passion. He had enjoyed watching and teasing her very much.

  But his cock was stiff as a pike and aching beyond bearing.

  He wanted nothing more than to toss her on the bed and take her. Savagely.

  He knew he could not. Should he become a rutting beast at this point, it would ruin all he had done before to reassure her. And, even though he had prepared her for his entry, if he were mad with lust, he could not ensure she would not still feel pain.

  He was rather large and she was a tiny thing. He’d noticed how tight she was when he’d breached her maidenhead. Oh, yeah. He’d noticed. It had nearly killed him, feeling the manic clenches of her body on him, her feral passion. Her responses…each and every one of them.

  Yes, he was close to losing control, but he could not. He not only needed to make this wonderful for her, he wanted to.

  He’d expected this to be a one-time seduction. One night, doing her a favor by relieving her of her chastity while gaining some measure of satisfaction by denying her brother the betrothal he sought.

  But one night didn’t seem like enough anymore.

  Maybe he would keep her for longer.

  Yes. That was an excellent idea.

  He glanced down at her lovely face, glowing with contentment, and he kissed her. He couldn’t not.

  And, as he had come to expect, her response was immediate and warm. She threaded her fingers in his hair and held him tightly as she returned his passion kiss by kiss.

  Gently, he laid her on the bed and eased down beside her, running his hand over her silken skin and reveling in the touch, the form of her.

  “You are beautiful,” he whispered, as he bent his head to sup on a nipple. He loved the way it swelled, incited him, and he toyed with it with his tongue. He tasted her everywhere, in fact, or nearly so, nibbling on her neck, her belly, her breasts, enjoying her response—even when she fisted her fingers in his hair and cursed him.

  At this, he lifted his head and grinned. “You are a demanding wench,” he said.

  “And you are a selfish lover.”

  He lurched back. “I am not.”

  “You keep things to yourself.”

  “Such as?”

  She gestured to his breeches, which were still fastened, though rather snug.

  “I was saving that for last.”

  “Hardly fair.”

  “Trust me, dearest. Once that beast is unleashed, it will all be over far too soon.”

  “Will it?” Her eyes danced.

  “You have me aroused beyond sanity.”

  “Well, I think I should be able to explore it, just as you explored me.” She batted her lashes. “It seems only fair.”

  It was not fair in the slightest. “Darling, if you so much as blow on me at this point, I am undone.”

  There was no reason for her eyes to brighten, for her to coo, “Oooh. I want to see you undone.”

  He should have said nothing.

  But it was too late. His enthusiastic partner, who was not selfish in the slightest, dove for the fastening of his breeches, opened it and stared.

  It was, he had to admit, a magnificent sight. His cock was hard and thick and angry.

  She reached out a finger, and though he dreaded her touch, he allowed it.

  But then, he’d had no idea how heinous she was.

  She began to do to him exactly what he had done to her in the bath. Teasing the tip, circling the engorged head and exploring him at length until his toes curled.

  At the moment, he was unsure exactly who was getting revenge of any sort.

  He had to grab her hand, holding it in—what he hoped was—a gentle cuff.

  “Tildy. You’re driving me mad.”

  She tipped her head to the side. “Mad enough to beg?”

  He narrowed his eyes and growled at her, though it was a playful offering. Well, sort of. “It doesn’t take much for you to make me beg, so don’t torment me.”

  “Does this torment you?”

  Egads. She wriggled free and gave him a squeeze.

  “Tildy.” Surely his warning glare was enough to make it clear to her that he was near the end of his tether.

  It was not.

  “Why is it so hard?”

  “Tildy…”

  “And what is this?” She traced the vein throbbing along his length. “And why is it wet? Can I taste it?”

  Enough. E-bloody-nough.

  He pushed her back onto the towel and levered over her, forcing her legs wide, and positioning himself at her entrance. As he slid in, he said, “I’m
sorry, Tildy, I wanted to go slow. Really I did. But I simply cannot—”Ah God. She was tight.

  He stared down at her as he eased deeper. Her features froze and he felt a sudden stinging guilt but damn it all, she had driven him over the edge.

  But then, the tightness changed into something else, something dazed and delighted. “Oh,” she murmured. “Oh.”

  And he knew.

  He knew he’d done his job well. She was ready for this.

  In fact, she wanted more. Craved it.

  And, by God, so did he.

  * * *

  It was beyond anything she had ever experienced, this strange fullness, the heat of him, the surge of his pulse—inside her. He seemed to touch her everywhere, stroke newly awakened nerves that wanted only more and more of him.

  Tildy wrapped her legs around his hips and attempted to ride him as he rode her. She didn’t know if she was doing it right, but then again, a part of her simply didn’t care. Pleasure did that, she supposed. Made one selfish.

  But it didn’t feel selfish, not when he groaned and whispered her name each time she closed on him.

  His slow strokes, in and out, picked up speed, and with that, her delirium rose. He held on to her, pinning her in place as he began to move faster, plunge deeper, as his control—his damnable control—began to slip.

  And she loved it.

  His pace increased, a wild tumult as he worked her, sucking and nipping on her nipples, thumbing that nub between her legs, driving her higher and higher into that glory she’d known before…but this was more. So much more.

  “Yes,” she cried in time to his lunges. “Yes, yes.”

  “God,” he growled. “God, Tildy. God.”

  And then, even as the cataclysm claimed her, flinging her back into that glorious whirlwind of bliss, his cock swelled, filling her further.

  With a harsh huff, he pulled out and sank deep, hard, kissing the core of her soul, it seemed, and sending her spinning into the well of rapture even as heat flooded her body.

  It was, she was certain, what heaven would be like.

  It took some time for her to recover. When she did, he was at her side, holding her, stroking her gently and panting. A sheen of sweat dotted his brow. He was so handsome, so vulnerable looking, she had to kiss him. And he kissed her back, but there was little passion in the exchange, because they were both drained…but in a lovely way.

  “Is that it?” she asked.

  An expression of horror crossed his face. “Did you not enjoy it?” he squawked, although he would have denied squawking.

  “Of course I did, Dev, darling. I was just checking to see if we were finished.”

  “Ho,” he said, grabbing her and holding her close. “We are far from finished, my little one.”

  Which was, all things considered, a wonderful thing to hear.

  “Really?” She snuggled in.

  He laughed. “I enjoy your enthusiasm, but I am going to need a minute to recuperate.”

  For some reason, her expression made him laugh even harder and he ended it with a kiss. It was a delicious kiss, tasting of his humor as it did, but she was far too curious to let him distract her.

  “Why do you need time to recuperate?”

  “Because you have drained me.”

  “I thought men were insatiable.”

  “Whoever told you that?”

  “My aunt.”

  “The one with all the lovers?”

  “The very one. She should know.”

  “Yes. All right. Men are insatiable, especially with a woman as beautiful as you are, but—”

  “I am hardly beautiful.”

  “You are. Exceedingly. However, you have drained me dry and I require recuperation. Come here and cuddle.”

  “Cuddle?”

  “Come on.” He pulled her down and wrapped her in his arms. Despite her interest in more…exploring, she had to admit it was pleasant.

  It seemed odd to chat as they did—he telling her of his sanitized adventures on the Continent and she telling him about growing up in Cornwall—naked as the day they were born and twined together, but she liked it.

  She especially loved learning more about him.

  Even though she had no intention of staying longer than this one night, she wanted to know him better. He was an only child, his father the second son of a peer, but he had loved his parents very much and mourned them when they died. He’d grown up with little, but made a place for himself in the world. She could hear the tinge of pride in his voice at that.

  Next to his tale, hers was dull. She was simply Tildy. Her greatest adventure had been at the age of seven when she’d been convinced she’d discovered a pirate’s lair in a cave in the cliffs. She’d been mortified to find it was nothing more than her brother’s treasure trove, and boy treasures at that.

  Still, Dev laughed.

  She told him about her brother and their years growing up, dealing with constant upheaval when their parents had died, and then their grandmother, leaving them to the care of an abusive and cold uncle. She told how she’d pined for her brother when he’d been shuttled off to school, and then about how he’d become terribly overbearing when their uncle died and he’d become the man of the house.

  She missed the old Charles, the one with whom she could laugh and joke. He was stern now. And bossy. And some of the light he’d once had in his eyes had dimmed.

  He’d become a man she needed to run from, and that broke her heart.

  Dev closed his hold on her when she began to cry. He petted her hair and soothed her, which was very pleasant.

  And then, when she was finished with her weeping, they lay there and held each other.

  She liked that too.

  ”I think I was wrong,” she said after a long, long silence.

  “Hmm?” he said in a tone that made her suspect he’d started to drift off.

  “I think I was wrong.”

  “Wrong?” He tugged her closer and kissed her lips. “About what?”

  “It does change people. This one act. It does.”

  “Does it?” His lips quirked.

  “Yes. But only in the best possible way.” It had certainly changed her. In many ways. She felt very different. As though she had been invited into a world of secrets, a world of pleasure, a world only mature women could enter.

  And she liked it.

  She liked the confidence it gave her.

  He gave her.

  “Thank you, Dev,” she said, placing a soft kiss on his chin, despite the beard.

  He blinked. “For what?”

  “For making this so lovely. For helping me.”

  “Ah, little one,” he purred. “It was completely my pleasure.”

  He was wrong about that, but she didn’t correct him. She nestled deeper and closed her eyes and allowed the cloud of satisfaction and well-being to blanket her in a warm cocoon.

  And she drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  DEV STARED AT THE CEILING as he held Tildy, his mind awhirl.

  One part of him reveled in the peace he felt with her in his arms, suffused with a desire to stay like this all night. Another part was planning his next incursion, considering how he might take her again. She’d been so incredibly responsive, he was certain she would agree to anything.

  And yes, another part of him was thinking about her brother, Charles, of all the times as a boy he had teased and tormented Dev, making his life a living hell. Paddington stood out in his memory as one of the worst of the lot but now, with the things Tildy had told him about their childhood, it was clear he had been acting from a deep sense of insecurity.

  Not that this fact absolved him.

  Nothing could.

  But Dev did feel a tiny prick of guilt for his desire for revenge.

  Not for what he’d done though. He could never regret that.

  He crooked his neck so he could look down on her as she slept, with her cheek resting against his shoulder. Her huffs
of breath skated over his chest and her fingers worked idly on his skin as she dreamed about…what?

  He hoped it was something wonderful.

  Maybe she was dreaming about him.

  He longed to wake her, but knew she needed her rest, so he tightened his hold, closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

  And he must have slept—and he dreamed of her—for he awoke in the clutch of the most exquisite sensation. It was centered in his groin, a velvet suction.

  At once he realized what it was and his eyes flew open.

  And good God in heaven above.

  It was Tildy, with her head in his lap.

  Exploring him.

  With her mouth.

  Savage passion whipped through his veins. All his muscles locked. His heart stuttered.

  Ah God. She was so untrained. Her licks and laps, her nibbles and strokes drove him to distraction…but they certainly had the effect she was seeking…if she was, indeed, seeking to drive him mad with lust.

  She realized he was awake and stopped to peer at him. It was a mischievous glance, one that sent a lance of predatory lust through him. He was struck again at her beauty, her raw allure, the perfection of her.

  “You were sleeping,” she said, by way of an excuse.

  “So you started without me?” The words were difficult to force out because his throat had closed in on itself.

  “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Mind?

  No. No. He did not mind.

  “Come here.”

  She shook her head; her curls danced. “I like this.” She fisted his cock and lifted it off his belly and lapped at the tip.

  His eyes crossed.

  “Why is it wet?” She’d asked that before and he hadn’t answered. He realized he’d better or she would only find more ways to drive him insane.

  “It’s preparing for you.”

  “For me?” Her grin was enormous. “I enjoyed watching it grow. Why did it grow?”

  Oh, she would be the death of him. He was certain of it. “Tildy, come here.”

  “Why did it grow?”

  “Because,” he growled. “It was preparing for you.”

  She sighed and gave him another brain-melting suckle. “That’s no answer and you know it.”

  “Tildy. Please.”