eyes widened as he moved restlessly, and the evidence of his reaction momentarily disturbed the sheet around his hips. “Show me how firmly I can pinch them, tug on them, bite them.”
A roaring thunder built in the back of Gloria’s mind, and hot flashes of pleasure shivered down her spine at his words, even as her lips opened to deny his claim. She slid her fingers beneath the swelling tissue as she followed his directions and pinched, then rolled the peaks. Instinctively she did as Eynon had done in the first weeks and grasped the base of the nipple at the areole, tugging it hard until it lengthened, the colour a brighter pink to attract him. Streaks of pleasure shot through her torso, and her lips closed after a mere moan of desire slipped from her.
“Yes,” he growled, starting to sit up. The desire on his face was beautiful, Gloria thought wildly, tugging harder as a tingling fever spread over her, demanding more . More what? she wondered frantically, her fingers tightening.
“Tomorrow you will take off your skirts too, Gloria,” he breathed, and at those words Gloria knew what was missing, what she needed.
“Yes,” she agreed, the thunder building to a dark cacophony. She licked her lips and shifted her hips restlessly against the footboard. In desperation, she pinched and pulled even harder, until pain rushed those same nerve endings and the tingling fever exploded in pleasure.
Gloria’s mind was filled with beautiful white heat and went curiously blank.
She felt herself moving, then sliding to the floor beside the bed, even as Clare sat up painfully and reached for her. His fingers found her head and stroked soothingly and she rocked herself a bit, reality gradually returning.
With reality came an unwelcome realisation of her wantonness. What must he think of her, to be so shameless as to not only bare herself for him but to find such wicked pleasure in it?
Gloria’s cheeks burned as she laid her head against the side of the bed. The soothing motion of his palm over her scalp made her skin tingle in anticipation. She wanted to stay there, his hand in her hair, and absorb the curious comfort and thrill it gave her.
Suddenly afraid, Gloria knew she had to escape. Immediately. Her movements jerky, she pulled up the chemise.
“Don’t—” Clare began.
Gloria shook her head violently, stopping him even as she shoved her arms into the dress sleeves and stood. She buttoned the bodice as she spoke and moved towards her pelisse and velvet wraps. “I-I-I don’t know what came over me,” she stammered, refusing to look in his direction.
“Nothing wrong—” Clare tried again to speak, but she interrupted him.
“I trust you’ll be as relieved to put this behind you as I will be,” she choked out, holding onto the edges of her composure so that she could escape his presence.
“Tomorrow—” Clare growled.
“I’m very sorry you were injured. I-I-I promise not to disturb your recovery,” she choked out, and fled the room, pulling the chamber door closed behind her.
In the empty gallery, she paused and drew two deep breaths. No one but Clare would know what had passed between them, Gloria reminded herself. She did not need to be embarrassed or ashamed, but could simply inform them she was leaving. Surely the entire staff knew she was there.
By the time Gloria met Jamie Seton in the front hall, she had rediscovered her impenetrable mask and smiled coolly at him. “I believe my footman is waiting at the main gates,” she informed him.
“Aye, milady. He’s keeping warm in the guardhouse. Allow me to escort you to him.” Jamie bowed, and Gloria readily agreed.
Her panic and fear and shame could wait until she was alone.
Chapter Seven
She had enjoyed it, baring herself for him. The knowledge ate at her soul over the following two days, kept her awake at night as she relived each and every damning move of her hands and every disgraceful second of her wanton display.
For all
A roaring thunder built in the back of Gloria’s mind, and hot flashes of pleasure shivered down her spine at his words, even as her lips opened to deny his claim. She slid her fingers beneath the swelling tissue as she followed his directions and pinched, then rolled the peaks. Instinctively she did as Eynon had done in the first weeks and grasped the base of the nipple at the areole, tugging it hard until it lengthened, the colour a brighter pink to attract him. Streaks of pleasure shot through her torso, and her lips closed after a mere moan of desire slipped from her.
“Yes,” he growled, starting to sit up. The desire on his face was beautiful, Gloria thought wildly, tugging harder as a tingling fever spread over her, demanding more . More what? she wondered frantically, her fingers tightening.
“Tomorrow you will take off your skirts too, Gloria,” he breathed, and at those words Gloria knew what was missing, what she needed.
“Yes,” she agreed, the thunder building to a dark cacophony. She licked her lips and shifted her hips restlessly against the footboard. In desperation, she pinched and pulled even harder, until pain rushed those same nerve endings and the tingling fever exploded in pleasure.
Gloria’s mind was filled with beautiful white heat and went curiously blank.
She felt herself moving, then sliding to the floor beside the bed, even as Clare sat up painfully and reached for her. His fingers found her head and stroked soothingly and she rocked herself a bit, reality gradually returning.
With reality came an unwelcome realisation of her wantonness. What must he think of her, to be so shameless as to not only bare herself for him but to find such wicked pleasure in it?
Gloria’s cheeks burned as she laid her head against the side of the bed. The soothing motion of his palm over her scalp made her skin tingle in anticipation. She wanted to stay there, his hand in her hair, and absorb the curious comfort and thrill it gave her.
Suddenly afraid, Gloria knew she had to escape. Immediately. Her movements jerky, she pulled up the chemise.
“Don’t—” Clare began.
Gloria shook her head violently, stopping him even as she shoved her arms into the dress sleeves and stood. She buttoned the bodice as she spoke and moved towards her pelisse and velvet wraps. “I-I-I don’t know what came over me,” she stammered, refusing to look in his direction.
“Nothing wrong—” Clare tried again to speak, but she interrupted him.
“I trust you’ll be as relieved to put this behind you as I will be,” she choked out, holding onto the edges of her composure so that she could escape his presence.
“Tomorrow—” Clare growled.
“I’m very sorry you were injured. I-I-I promise not to disturb your recovery,” she choked out, and fled the room, pulling the chamber door closed behind her.
In the empty gallery, she paused and drew two deep breaths. No one but Clare would know what had passed between them, Gloria reminded herself. She did not need to be embarrassed or ashamed, but could simply inform them she was leaving. Surely the entire staff knew she was there.
By the time Gloria met Jamie Seton in the front hall, she had rediscovered her impenetrable mask and smiled coolly at him. “I believe my footman is waiting at the main gates,” she informed him.
“Aye, milady. He’s keeping warm in the guardhouse. Allow me to escort you to him.” Jamie bowed, and Gloria readily agreed.
Her panic and fear and shame could wait until she was alone.
Chapter Seven
She had enjoyed it, baring herself for him. The knowledge ate at her soul over the following two days, kept her awake at night as she relived each and every damning move of her hands and every disgraceful second of her wanton display.
For all
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