Read Online Blood Rose by Sharon Page - Free Book Online Page B

wands was buried up her bottom. Her companion, a man who stood almost as tall as Sommersby also wore the domino and a mask of black silk.
    Why hadn’t Mr. Swift warned them the couple was coming?
    “Oh!” The blond jade saw them and gasped in surprise.
    Before Serena could think, Lord Sommersby’s broad shoulders and wide chest filled her view.
    He bent, until his mouth hovered just an inch over hers. It was part of the disguise. He would not kiss her—or if he did he would not mean it.
    Had he known she had climaxed? She had foolishly cried out—and had been mortified. It had been so unexpected, so astonishing. She’d prayed both men had no idea what had happened to her.
    Lord Sommersby’s lips grazed her cheek, through the veil. How sensual his mouth was. The firm brush set her skin tingling, made her gasp. “You must know how much I desire you.”
    His hand cupped her chin and turned her lips to his. “No, my lord. I had no idea.”
    A smile. His lips quirked up in a smile. A brief one that vanished quickly.
    Out of the corner of her eye she saw the dark-haired vampire bend the blonde over the railing.
    His legs spread, and he thrust his hips forward. A frantic womanly squeal followed—obviously he’d penetrated. The man began to grunt, hoarse, fierce grunts. And the woman cried, “Yes! Yes!”
    and “Deeper! Deeper!”

    Blood Rose ©Sharon Page 2007 Email: [email protected] 30

    Serena swayed—Sommersby settled his hands on her hips. Held her steady. “Start moving back, my dear. We’ll slip away without them noticing.”
    “No kiss?”
    “No. Now take a step back.”
    For one mad moment, Serena wanted to press forward, push her lips to the earl’s, but she obeyed him. She let him guide her backward until the velvet drape brushed against her back. She thought of Mr. Swift, and fear began to throb around her heart. Where was he?

    Christ Jesus, his hands were shaking.
    Drake Swift looked down and dispassionately watched his fingers tremble. The signs always began this way. First, he’d slowly lose control of his limbs. Then his speech. Blackness would creep in on the edge of his vision.
    Bloody solange was killing him.
    Drake reached into the slim pocket sewn in his coat lining. One vial left. He needed more—
    this would be enough for tonight. A few minutes away from Miss Lark and Sommersby was all the time he needed. He’d ducked into this unused room, while Miss Lark and his partner waited on the gallery.
    Hell, hiding in a brothel’s bedroom to drink a potion that would kill him. Christ. He’d fought hard to be better than this.
    Beneath the pad of Drake’s thumb, the glass was smooth. Fragile. His thumb toyed with the stopper, easing it up.
    As much as he hated leaving Miss Lark with his partner, he didn’t think for an instant Sommersby would take advantage of his time alone. Miss Lark was a beauty, but Sommersby wouldn’t try to seduce her. Sommersby seemed to like to punish himself by denying himself sex.
    Hell. Women were like drink. Like solange. Guilt, regrets, fear, anger—all vanished when you had a woman’s heels hooked around your neck and you were pounding your cock deep in her wet, welcoming pussy. A mind-shattering climax was a good as a drunk any day.
    There was something about Miss Lark that commanded Drake to stay near her.
    All it had taken was the touch of his mouth to her satin-soft neck and she’d climaxed…he knew female ecstasy when he saw it. And she was a deliciously noisy woman when she came. Inside the studious governess there lurked a seductive woman.
    Bloody stopper was stuck. With a snap of his thumb, Drake flicked the rubber wedge so savagely he snapped off the top of the vial. It tinkled as it struck the floor.
    He knew the warnings about solange. He’d heard the other hunters speak of it. None touched the drug. All knew it destroyed faster than opium.
    Drake didn’t have a choice anymore. He tipped up the vial.
    It would make him forget. Forget Mary,