Tempting a Sinner by Kate Pearce

crook of her neck. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take it off completely for you?” Even as he spoke he realized he was falling under her spell again. She arched her back, pushing her pert bottom against the swell of his cock.
    Probably quite deliberately.
    He still didn’t know whom she corresponded with at the pleasure house.
    He forced himself to let her go and watched as she sauntered over to the bed, her hips swaying in a languid invitation that perhaps only he could appreciate.
    “So if you didn’t need a prostitute, how have you satisfied your needs in the last few years?”
    She climbed onto the bed. “That is none of your business.”
    “You jest.” He closed in on her. “I’m your husband.”
    Her eyes sparked with fury. “Benedict . . .”
    He stroked her knee. “Tell me who you know at the pleasure house.” He spread his fingers wide, sliding his thumb between her thighs. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and she relaxed against him. It was impossible to miss her quick smile of satisfaction. She was beginning to believe she could lead him around by the cock. He’d given her no reason to think otherwise. He eased his hand higher until his thumb circled her clit. She made a soft sound of approval as he played with her.
    “Who, Malinda?” he whispered against her ear as he continued to stroke her.
    “Are you still asking about my lovers?”
    His thumb stilled. “No.”
    “Because I could tell you some stories about them.” She sighed and moved luxuriously against him. “The Russian count, the French émigré . . .”
    He changed the position of his hand so that he could slide a finger into her gathering wetness. “You can tell me about them when I’m inside you, tell me every filthy, little thing they did to make you come so that I can do it to you again and do it better.”
    “You are so competitive.”
    “If you want to know exactly how competitive I can be, you’ll need to oblige me first.”
    “How?” Her skin was flushed now, her body undulating beneath his fingers, seeking release.
    “By telling me whom you know at the pleasure house.”
    She went still. “Go to the devil.”
    “If that’s what you wish, my love.” He forced himself to remove his fingers and very slowly licked them clean. “Enjoy your nap. I’ll wake you in time for supper.”
    He left her sitting there in furious outrage and shut the door, leaning against it until he could breathe without inhaling the scent of her arousal. When he had composed himself, he lit the fire, sat down with the brandy decanter, and stared into the flames. Absentmindedly he brought his glass to his lips and smelled her on his fingers.
    With a soft curse, he unbuttoned his breeches, wrapped his hand around his aching cock, and pleasured himself to a quick and deeply unsatisfying climax. His cock knew better now, and found this solitary exercise as lacking as Benedict did, but he refused to go back in there and let her dictate to him. A man had to have some standards.
    When Jenny arrived with the pie and other savory items for their supper, he was sitting in his chair reading the newspaper that Jason had thoughtfully slid under the door. After thanking Jenny, he placed the food on the table and went through to his bedroom, knocking politely on the door before entering.
    Malinda lay on her back, the covers kicked away. One of her knees was bent, giving him an excellent view of her sex and the sight of her fingers pleasuring herself. Her eyes were closed and she was making those little whimpers of pleasure that meant she was close to climaxing. He was immediately as hard as stone again. With all the composure he could gather, he set his jaw, walked over to the bed, and cleared his throat.
    Her eyes flew open. “Oh my goodness, I didn’t realize you were there, I—”
    He patted her cheek. “I just wanted you to know that supper is on the table. Please feel free to join me when you’re done.”
    He bowed and went out, his