to fail in his first commission, he grunted and nodded.
“All right, this should do us handsomely. Let’s be off.” She hefted a jug of wine that had been sitting under the table. Speaking in a hushed voice, almost a whisper, she lifted a lamp in her free hand. “Follow me.”
He did, mouth watering as he watched the vague outline of her bottom swaying under her shapeless gown as she climbed the stairs in front of him. If he hadn’t been carrying the tray he would have grabbed her hips and pulled her tight against him, rubbing his swollen sex against her round backside. His hands itched and his cock twitched in anticipation.
“One more flight,” she whispered, as they reached the first floor.
One more flight. It had been far too long since he’d had a woman. He felt a brief flicker of regret to be breaking Huntington’s trust so soon after it was given, but the man deserved it. He was a fool to let a jaded whore anywhere near his sister, and a bigger fool if he couldn’t see that she was far from being the innocent she appeared.
“Here we are.” A door opened, spilling soft light into the dark hall.
Gabriel followed her in, looking curiously about him. A fire blazed cheerfully in the hearth, dispelling the chill and adding light to the room. There wereseveral lamps and candles, some of them lit. There were bookcases and a fiddle, a small black statue of what looked to be some ancient goddess, shells, and stones, and feathers, and oddly shaped pieces of dry wood. He noted a writing table, and several curio cabinets he would have liked to explore if he hadn’t had other things on his mind.
The furniture was solid, sturdy, and exuded comfort. Soft carpet and colorful tapestries blended it all together, creating an impression of warmth and welcome. It was the kind of room where a man might relax and stay a while. A large bed on the far wall, parallel to a recessed window seat, captured his attention. Strewn with pillows, books, and discarded clothes, its velvet coverlet was thrown back, exposing what appeared to be silk sheets. It looked comfortable and inviting. He imagined he could still see the imprint of her body in the sheets, and his body tightened in expectation.
Sarah motioned him to place the tray on a low table. “There will be fine, for now.” Stretching to reach, she opened the doors to a large armoire, pulling out a soft wool blanket.
His nerve endings hummed with expectation as his body came exquisitely alive. His nostrils flared, capturing her scent, clean, musky, with hints of smoke, salt, and spice. He was intensely aware of his clothing, caressing and constraining, his erection heavy and turgid, twitching and swollen against his breeches. Without conscious awareness he changed,metamorphosed, his manner becoming languid, seductive, his eyes hooded and heavy with sensuality, his lips parted, full and inviting.
Sarah was trying to open the doors to the balcony, struggling with the blanket and almost tripping over her shapeless nightgown, somewhat annoyed that he was standing there, doltish, rather than aiding her. “Bring the tray if you please, Gabriel.” Goodness, what was wrong with him? Couldn’t he see she needed help?
Distracted, he did as he was told. He’d been hoping for the bed, but he would service her anywhere, and any way, she pleased, standing, sitting, or lying on cold stone. Stepping out onto the balcony, he stopped suddenly, turning his head in amazement. He’d read somewhere of how homeowners in Arabic lands would turn their rooftops into delightful gardens, fantastical, private oases, open to the sky. He imagined they might look something like this.
The balcony was wide and solid and ran the length of her room. It seemed to float out over the ocean, like the prow of a ship, and he imagined he could feel the swell and pitch of the waves beneath them. An ancient oak loomed in the darkness on the northern edge to his left, its branches shading the second floor and
“All right, this should do us handsomely. Let’s be off.” She hefted a jug of wine that had been sitting under the table. Speaking in a hushed voice, almost a whisper, she lifted a lamp in her free hand. “Follow me.”
He did, mouth watering as he watched the vague outline of her bottom swaying under her shapeless gown as she climbed the stairs in front of him. If he hadn’t been carrying the tray he would have grabbed her hips and pulled her tight against him, rubbing his swollen sex against her round backside. His hands itched and his cock twitched in anticipation.
“One more flight,” she whispered, as they reached the first floor.
One more flight. It had been far too long since he’d had a woman. He felt a brief flicker of regret to be breaking Huntington’s trust so soon after it was given, but the man deserved it. He was a fool to let a jaded whore anywhere near his sister, and a bigger fool if he couldn’t see that she was far from being the innocent she appeared.
“Here we are.” A door opened, spilling soft light into the dark hall.
Gabriel followed her in, looking curiously about him. A fire blazed cheerfully in the hearth, dispelling the chill and adding light to the room. There wereseveral lamps and candles, some of them lit. There were bookcases and a fiddle, a small black statue of what looked to be some ancient goddess, shells, and stones, and feathers, and oddly shaped pieces of dry wood. He noted a writing table, and several curio cabinets he would have liked to explore if he hadn’t had other things on his mind.
The furniture was solid, sturdy, and exuded comfort. Soft carpet and colorful tapestries blended it all together, creating an impression of warmth and welcome. It was the kind of room where a man might relax and stay a while. A large bed on the far wall, parallel to a recessed window seat, captured his attention. Strewn with pillows, books, and discarded clothes, its velvet coverlet was thrown back, exposing what appeared to be silk sheets. It looked comfortable and inviting. He imagined he could still see the imprint of her body in the sheets, and his body tightened in expectation.
Sarah motioned him to place the tray on a low table. “There will be fine, for now.” Stretching to reach, she opened the doors to a large armoire, pulling out a soft wool blanket.
His nerve endings hummed with expectation as his body came exquisitely alive. His nostrils flared, capturing her scent, clean, musky, with hints of smoke, salt, and spice. He was intensely aware of his clothing, caressing and constraining, his erection heavy and turgid, twitching and swollen against his breeches. Without conscious awareness he changed,metamorphosed, his manner becoming languid, seductive, his eyes hooded and heavy with sensuality, his lips parted, full and inviting.
Sarah was trying to open the doors to the balcony, struggling with the blanket and almost tripping over her shapeless nightgown, somewhat annoyed that he was standing there, doltish, rather than aiding her. “Bring the tray if you please, Gabriel.” Goodness, what was wrong with him? Couldn’t he see she needed help?
Distracted, he did as he was told. He’d been hoping for the bed, but he would service her anywhere, and any way, she pleased, standing, sitting, or lying on cold stone. Stepping out onto the balcony, he stopped suddenly, turning his head in amazement. He’d read somewhere of how homeowners in Arabic lands would turn their rooftops into delightful gardens, fantastical, private oases, open to the sky. He imagined they might look something like this.
The balcony was wide and solid and ran the length of her room. It seemed to float out over the ocean, like the prow of a ship, and he imagined he could feel the swell and pitch of the waves beneath them. An ancient oak loomed in the darkness on the northern edge to his left, its branches shading the second floor and
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