Read Online Invitation to Ruin by Ann Vremont - Free Book Online Page B

and
filled me with a wanton abandon.
    “Mine?” He grabbed my bottom roughly and
pulled me deeper onto his shaft.
    “Yes,” I moaned, squirming on his manhood as
the tension coiled like a snake in my belly.
    He reached up and cupped my breast, squeezing
it hard. “Mine?”
    “All of it,” I panted, my vision blurring
with the first wave of my climax. “All of me.”
    Ever so gently, he put his hand between my
breasts, covering my heart while his hips continued driving his rod
into me in sweet torture. “Mine?”
    The question was issued in a choked cry and I
wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling myself to him, kissing the
hard line of his jaw and answering before pleasure robbed me of all
speech.
    “Yours, Ambroise!”
    ...
    Now I wait in my rooms, deliciously sore once
again. True to his word, we shall be married within two weeks. I
return to the Sacred Heart tomorrow…to remove temptation from him
beforehand—so he had joked—and to gather my girlish belongings and
say goodbye to my true friends. (Even now, my mind goes over how I
shall take my revenge on Veronique for her duplicity. Is that fair,
when I have what I did not know I wanted? Still, her intentions
were far removed from the nurturing of love!)
    And I must burn this journal, even though it
nearly kills me to destroy a testament to the passion Ambroise and
I have shared thus far. But I would not risk its discovery to the
world, or even his discovery of it. I would not have him read of my
silly devotion to Sebastian when I knew no better or of my unkind
words. Nor would I have Ambroise know the full power he wields over
me. I can only hope he is a benign (but dominant!) master.
    I must trust that he is, for my body and
heart can deny him nothing.

    LUCILLE

    Philipe,
    I cannot tell you what a furor Beatrice’s
story caused here at the convent. Now everyone goes around with
suspicion in their eyes, tightly guarding their secrets (but not
from me—I pass among them much as a servant does, invisible). Some
of the sisters have even pulled burning diaries and letters from
the fire. Ah, what I would give to read those charred, confiscated
pages!
    I fear, however, that it will become more
difficult to find and record the stories. They have given me a
roommate, so crowded have we become here at Sacred Heart. I did not
know what to expect, she is of a very notable family. I thought I
would come back to my room to find everything I own shoved into a
corner or her endlessly complaining at being in no more than a
broom closet (truly, it is that small). But she has been most
gracious, although I sometimes wonder if it is not a subtle
manipulation that she uses to ensure that she will always get the
larger prize when the time comes.
    But that is enough about AnneMarie. On to
Lucille! I have moved beyond spying in diaries and journals to
delivering a young lady’s love letters and intercepting their
content!
    Ah, I cannot tell you how hard my heart
pounds as I prepare to post this to you. For, you see, I have not
hidden the identity of Lucille’s roommate. It is Beatrice! And
Lucy’s complaints of Beatrice tell us all too well that something
dreadful has come to pass in Beatrice’s household. Yet, surely the
pairing of the two stories will confirm the suspicions of the
sisters and girls here at the convent. I write of them!
    But please, dear cousin, you need not worry
that Lucille will expose me, as you shall see at the end of this
letter.
    As ever,
    Candacis

    May 5, 1787
    My dearest André,
    It is night and I write this by candlelight.
I should be sleeping but thoughts (most wicked) of you keep me
awake. I know it is wrong, that I should feel this way for a man of
the cloth—for any man I do not call husband. But my soul and body
burn for you. Tomorrow, when I kneel before you, will you tremble
as you place the wafer in my mouth? Well you should, for I do not
imagine that it is some offering of our Lord’s body that I devour,
but your manhood!
    Will you