Read Online The Stanhope Challenge - Regency Quartet - Four Regency Romances by Cerise DeLand - Free Book Online Page B

pleased with breakfast. Do give my compliments to the cook.”
    He took the opportunity to look into her eyes. Whatever he saw, he did not register in his expression. “Will that be all, my lady?”
    She was returning, wasn’t she? As Adam’s wife. With full privileges and duties here to run this household. “Yes, Roberts. Good morning,” she bid him, authority in her tone.
    As he left, Adam returned. His face was somber, the lines around his mouth etched with concern.
    “Did you finish?” he asked her, his gloom dissolving as he came to put his arm around her and hug her close. “Sorry, darling. Couldn’t be helped. Ulsmly demands his prerogatives.”
    “I’m certain.”
    “Come sit with me and talk while I finish my breakfast.” He took her hand and led her to her chair. A light came to his dark eyes. “Did you replenish your energy?”
    “I think I did,” she said, believing it to be true. “Enormous amounts of it, too.”
    He took a bit of toast into his mouth. “Mmm. Chi .”
    “What?”
    “Energy you need. What anyone needs. The Mandarin word for it is chi. One must have tons of it to enjoy good sex.”
    Her cheeks flamed.
    He gave her a lopsided grin. “After all we’ve done, you blush so red you match your gown?”
    “Pray, good man. Give a woman an opportunity to become accustomed to such conversation,” she justified herself with a gay taunt.
    He used his napkin, reached over and pulled her to his lap. “Don’t be shy.”
    She flicked a button on his waist coast. “I’m not. It is just the light of day, you realize. And we are in the breakfast room.”
    His fingers etched swirls on her thighs. “Anywhere you are is where I wish to have you.”
    She met the challenge in his gaze. “Here?”
    With one arm, he swept the breakfast dishes, cloth and all, toward the center of the long table. “Here.”
    He nodded toward the edge. “Sit there.”
    She hooted. “You cannot mean to do it now?”
    He raised her chin. “Anytime. Do you doubt we can do it at this angle?”
    She threw back her head to laugh. “I do not doubt you can do it backwards!”
    “Mmm.” He nodded. “That I will show you this evening.” He helped her slide back on the polished wood.
    “You are a satyr.”
    At that, he paused for a moment, definitely unhappy with the pronouncement. But then he leaned forward to thumb her nipples and reach inside her bodice to bring forth one breast then the other.
    She looked down at herself. A total wanton. Scandalous Miss Proper.
    A smile played about his mouth while he gathered up her hem and lifted it above her thighs.
    “I want to see you prepare yourself for me. As I taught you last night.”
    She was drawn, mesmerized, thrilled to obey him. She touched her nipples, stroked them, pinched them. She sent them over the wrinkled froth of her gown and down to the pouf of her pussy. Her pussy. Adam’s term for her nether hair, decadent, delicious. She combed her fingers through it. Stroked it. Tugged it. The friction made her moan in need and cry out for him.
    “More,” he told her in a guttural sound. He opened the placket of his breeches, grasping his rigid cock and caressing it, thumbing moisture from his hard red tip. “Show me that you are eager for me, pet.”
    “I am,” she cried, as she parted her folds.
    “A flowing fountain.” He smiled into her eyes, his own dark with wicked lust. “See how well we fit together here.” He inserted his shaft inside her, halted then pulled out.
    She objected.
    He ground his teeth. “I know, my sweet. But anticipation is so good for you.”
    “You will drive me to Bedlam.”
    He kissed her like a madman. “I intend to go with you.” He entered her again and held, forging a rhythm that had him enter, hold and retreat. Enter, hold. Retreat. Enter, hold. Retreat. “This is Two Seagulls Soaring.”
    Two lovers dancing, meeting, fucking. “I understand,” she said with difficulty as he continued, seemingly disciplined as a monk,