Three Proposals and a Scandal: A Sons of Sin Novella by Anna Campbell
Authors: Anna Campbell
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clothing, he’d been gentle. Now he revealed unabashed hunger. And a possessiveness that should send her scrambling for safety, but instead set her blood rushing. With sudden impatience, he tossed her skirts up and cupped her between the legs where need pounded most insistently.
Her body turned liquid. She bucked under this invasion and made a wordless complaint. This was like suffering a deathly fever. She shook with excitement and fear.
“Trust me,” he said in a guttural whisper, stroking her through her thin drawers.
“I can’t…” She hardly knew what she said. His hand felt hot and dangerous, even as her secret muscles clamped painfully on emptiness.
“I promised you’ll keep your virtue.”
Frantically she pressed back on his arm until her gaze met his. His face was flushed and his lips full from their kisses. But his eyes remained steady.
“Marianne?” he asked as if the pause had contained an entire conversation.
She managed a nod. “I don’t feel very virtuous.”
Elias smiled and pressed his lips to hers. His hardness jutted into her hip, but his kiss was sweet. When he was forceful, the fire stirred her caution. She had no defenses against tenderness. On a surge of crushing emotion, she answered his kiss with every drop of unspoken love in her heart.
Because that emotional surrender was so much more significant than physical need, she didn’t close her legs when he began a slow exploration. She shook as he gently traced her delicate folds. His long fingers found a place that sent unfamiliar sensation ripping through her.
She cried out and her hands clenched against his shoulders. “Elias?”
“This is for you, my love.” His voice soothed while his hand played fiendish music on her body.
Lost in a fog of carnal pleasure, she closed her eyes and twisted to bury her face in his chest. He was breathing harshly and his heart thumped hard beneath her ear. He stroked her again and a tremor shook her. She’d never felt like this before. She liked what he did, but every touch set her thirsting for some mysterious end.
She wriggled against his hand in a futile quest for ease, then muffled another cry when she felt a subtle pressure. He’d slid a finger into her body. That should seem bizarre. Instead it felt like an invitation to heaven.
When he stroked deeper, a liquid surge greeted him and she whimpered into his shirt. She felt hot and restless and needy. This was like torture.
He continued until she wanted to curse him. Then through frustration, something new started to spiral inside her and she quaked in his hold. On and on he went, tormenting her with cruel pleasure.
She felt stretched on a rack. If he didn’t stop, she’d shatter into a thousand pieces. If he stopped, she’d die.
Higher and higher. The end perpetually out of reach.
In the space between one searing breath and the next, she pitched forward and toppled over some invisible cliff. All that exquisite heat flashed into a peak so clean and pure and transcendent, she flung free to fly through the burning stars.
Chapter Ten
----
The foul weather persisted the next day. When Elias arrived early for breakfast, Jonas sat alone over a plate of sirloin and eggs. He grunted to his host and bypassed the steaming chafing dishes on the sideboard, heading straight for the coffee. When sleep had proven elusive, he’d sought refuge in the brandy bottle. Not enough to deaden physical or emotional frustration, damn it, but enough to give him a sour stomach this morning.
He was relieved that Jonas was his sole companion. Richard would expect some attempt at conversation and Elias was in no mood for Baildon or Tranter or Desborough. Jonas was usually disinclined to small talk. This morning, he seemed disinclined to any talk at all. Which suited Elias down to the muddy ground.
Elias brooded over his steaming coffee, sifting last night’s astonishing events, trying to decide what the devil he did now. Was his encounter with
Her body turned liquid. She bucked under this invasion and made a wordless complaint. This was like suffering a deathly fever. She shook with excitement and fear.
“Trust me,” he said in a guttural whisper, stroking her through her thin drawers.
“I can’t…” She hardly knew what she said. His hand felt hot and dangerous, even as her secret muscles clamped painfully on emptiness.
“I promised you’ll keep your virtue.”
Frantically she pressed back on his arm until her gaze met his. His face was flushed and his lips full from their kisses. But his eyes remained steady.
“Marianne?” he asked as if the pause had contained an entire conversation.
She managed a nod. “I don’t feel very virtuous.”
Elias smiled and pressed his lips to hers. His hardness jutted into her hip, but his kiss was sweet. When he was forceful, the fire stirred her caution. She had no defenses against tenderness. On a surge of crushing emotion, she answered his kiss with every drop of unspoken love in her heart.
Because that emotional surrender was so much more significant than physical need, she didn’t close her legs when he began a slow exploration. She shook as he gently traced her delicate folds. His long fingers found a place that sent unfamiliar sensation ripping through her.
She cried out and her hands clenched against his shoulders. “Elias?”
“This is for you, my love.” His voice soothed while his hand played fiendish music on her body.
Lost in a fog of carnal pleasure, she closed her eyes and twisted to bury her face in his chest. He was breathing harshly and his heart thumped hard beneath her ear. He stroked her again and a tremor shook her. She’d never felt like this before. She liked what he did, but every touch set her thirsting for some mysterious end.
She wriggled against his hand in a futile quest for ease, then muffled another cry when she felt a subtle pressure. He’d slid a finger into her body. That should seem bizarre. Instead it felt like an invitation to heaven.
When he stroked deeper, a liquid surge greeted him and she whimpered into his shirt. She felt hot and restless and needy. This was like torture.
He continued until she wanted to curse him. Then through frustration, something new started to spiral inside her and she quaked in his hold. On and on he went, tormenting her with cruel pleasure.
She felt stretched on a rack. If he didn’t stop, she’d shatter into a thousand pieces. If he stopped, she’d die.
Higher and higher. The end perpetually out of reach.
In the space between one searing breath and the next, she pitched forward and toppled over some invisible cliff. All that exquisite heat flashed into a peak so clean and pure and transcendent, she flung free to fly through the burning stars.
Chapter Ten
----
The foul weather persisted the next day. When Elias arrived early for breakfast, Jonas sat alone over a plate of sirloin and eggs. He grunted to his host and bypassed the steaming chafing dishes on the sideboard, heading straight for the coffee. When sleep had proven elusive, he’d sought refuge in the brandy bottle. Not enough to deaden physical or emotional frustration, damn it, but enough to give him a sour stomach this morning.
He was relieved that Jonas was his sole companion. Richard would expect some attempt at conversation and Elias was in no mood for Baildon or Tranter or Desborough. Jonas was usually disinclined to small talk. This morning, he seemed disinclined to any talk at all. Which suited Elias down to the muddy ground.
Elias brooded over his steaming coffee, sifting last night’s astonishing events, trying to decide what the devil he did now. Was his encounter with
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