Seven Nights Of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors

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Sensing her qualms, fearing she would change her mind and flee, Ludovic had let her blather on about the races, but all the while deftly and relentlessly guiding her back to the truth and compelling her to face her motives. She wanted him too. He could see it in the rapid rise of her breasts. He could smell her budding arousal and would relish bringing her to full bloom. God, how he loved this dance! She had taken the first tentative steps, yet she still fought her desire, refused to give in to it, but he would lead her now. He was a master…and a ruthless bastard.

He moved behind her, taking possession of her waist, his fingers riffled gently through her hair. He closed his eyes to inhale her faint rose scent mixed with womanly musk. He dipped his head, letting his breath tickle her ear. She shivered. He whispered low and sultry. “Do you wish me to name the ways I can please you? I am delighted to comply if that excites you…although it would please me far more to demonstrate.”

She swallowed hard. His lip twitched.

His hand skirted up her waist to the outside of her breast, his thumb stroking, teasing but not quite touching her nipple. He sought with his tongue that most sensitive spot behind her ear. He licked, and she trembled. “I never make idle boasts, Diana. I have long studied the secrets of a woman’s body and know many ways to bring you mindless rapture.”

She tensed, her breathing quickening to a shallow rasp. “Is such a thing possible for every woman? In ten years I’ve never…” She flushed with the confession. “Not by my husband’s hand.”

He laughed. “Never by his hand? Then what of his cock? His mouth?”

“M-mouth?” She turned her head, her gaze shooting to his with another convulsive swallow.

He awarded her a wicked smile. “The mouth and tongue are but one exquisite gateway to heaven. Do you wish to know them all, Diana? You need only say the word. Confess your need, and I will be a slave to your desire.”

“Yes.” The word escaped from her throat, a nearly soundless whisper. “Yes,” she repeated on a sob. “It is why I came to you. But then I was afraid. But I’m not anymore. I want to know what I’ve missed. My life has been nothing but sacrifice and thankless duty. I want to know passion and pleasure. Please, Ludovic, show me what can be between a man and a woman.”

At last. He closed his eyes on a smile, briefly basking in his victory. It was the sweetest surrender. He pulled her around and into his arms. “If it is truly your wish to discover paradise…” He dipped his head to her throat. “I am enchanted to be your guide.”





CHAPTER NINE





SHE LIFTED HER CHIN, her watery gaze meeting relentless, fathomless blue, his lovely mouth curving in a way that promised illicit delights. He found her throat in a bone-melting kiss and then drew her into his arms to claim her mouth. His lips were at once firm and soft, giving and demanding, nibbling and sucking, and Diana almost cried out in sheer bliss.

She parted her own to him, opening freely. His tongue entered her mouth, hot and wet and delicious, tasting of warm brandy and virile male. She was soon lightheaded with the combination, the intoxicating mix. She moaned into his mouth, abandoning herself to desire. Locking and releasing, nipping and gliding, their tongues met again, tangling in a jolt of sublime sensation that plummeted to a place low in her belly.

He pulled her deeper into the kiss, his tongue sliding over hers in sweet wet friction, plundering her mouth. His teeth found her earlobe, his warm breath in her ear sending rapturous ripples down her spine. He teased and traced a blazing trail along the pulse of her throat, kissing, licking, and heating her blood into a raging torrent. He lingered at the juncture between neck and shoulder, moving to the sensitive spot between her collarbones while he disengaged the sash at her waist.

In seconds, the smooth silk slithered from her shoulders to pool at her feet. Holding her arms at her side, Diana resisted the miss-ish urge to cover herself. Instead she fixed on his face, on the visibly throbbing pulse in his neck, the subtle flare of his nostrils, the pupils burning into her with dark desire. He raked over her with an appreciation that seared her flesh in its wake.

“You are nothing short of magnificent,” he murmured deep and husky.

Her gaze slid over him, taking in his breadth of shoulder, the broad expanse of chest, the tapering waist and hips. She reached the generous, telltale bulge in his breeches and liquid warmth suffused the place between her thighs. As if reading her thoughts, he took her hand in his, guiding it between his legs. He pressed it firmly against the rock-hard protrusion. She sucked in a breath at the feel of him. Large. Thick. Rigid. Her insides convulsed.

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