A hot, steamy historical romance!
Dashing aristocrat Evan Blake has seduced some of London's most beautiful women, but he has one ironclad rule: never touch a servant, because she must say 'yes' or risk losing her livelihood.
That rule is sorely tested the day Marian Willows comes to work at Blakewood Manor. Mischievous, smart, and independent, Marian challenges everything Evan thought he knew about women, life, and love.
But reality cannot be ignored. Master and servant, aristocrat and commoner...even as passion unites them, society's rules and the couple's own prideful natures tear them apart.
When Marian's life is in danger, will Evan risk everything he has - his money, his title, his life - to save the woman he loves?
Steamy excerpt (Mature content):
She peered hard into his eyes, and her voice lowered. “Did you turn around immediately as soon as you saw me…or did you watch for a short time?”
His mouth quivered, and she could see the struggle in his face not to look at her body again. “I…I must confess…I did not turn away as soon as I should have.”
She allowed the faintest smile to turn up the corner of her lips. “That was very naughty of you,” she whispered, her heart beating fast in her chest.
His face was scarlet. His lips twitched, but no sound came out as he stared into her eyes.
“But since you rescued me…I forgive you,” she murmured, and leaned forward.
She had meant to kiss his cheek. She had been overly forward with him before, and he had not reacted the way she wanted. So though she desperately wanted to kiss him again as she had in the garden that night, she decided she would keep this instance as chaste as possible.
But he moved his face the slightest, and instead of his cheek, her mouth touched the corner of his soft, sensual lips.
She drew back in surprise and stared at him.
He stared back.
And then he leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth.
She closed her eyes and drank him in. His taste was different than before, a sweetness that had been disguised by the wine, mixed with the salt from his sweat.
His mouth pressed firmer against hers, his skin sliding sensuously over hers, as his tongue gently parted her lips and sought to softly penetrate her. She drew him in and felt him enter her, and she could barely contain the pleasure that coursed through her body.
The blood was rushing in her head. She was glad that he still held her in his arms – not just because the pressure of his body excited her, but because that kiss left her so weak that she might have collapsed otherwise.
Then he broke off the kiss, and slowly let her body droop until she was lying fully on the grass.
Panic began to rise in her. No! Don’t stop! she wailed silently.
Her prayers were answered.
His eyes never left her face as he gently lay down beside her, his body pressed against her side, and leaned in again for another kiss.
This time he was more urgent. Passion seemed to flow out of him and into her, and the heat of his lips on her skin was feverish and intense as he penetrated her once again, his soft tongue ravishing her own.
She could feel the weight of his body against her, and she wanted badly to feel it fully atop her.
Between her legs she could feel a wetness that had nothing to do with her damp clothes.
She ran her hands over his neck, across his muscular chest, around his side and clutched at his broad, strong back.
He lowered his head, kissing from her chin to her throat, then licked his tongue softly but firmly down past her collarbones until he was stopped by the collar of her shift.
He pulled back, and again the panic welled inside her.
Please, for the love of God, don’t stop!
Once again her prayers were answered.
He took her cotton undergarment in both hands. With a ferocity that both thrilled and frightened her the tiniest bit, he tore it apart from the collar to her belly.
Then lowered his mouth, cupped her left breast in his hand, and sucked greedily at her nipple.
Desire flooded through her in a wave, and she moaned. He moved to her other breast, and lightly circled the stiff nipple with his velvety tongue.
Her thighs throbbed with an aching heat.
She clutched at his shirt and tugged at it. He grinned and helped her pull it over his head so that his entire upper body was exposed.
She took in every detail of him – the pink, vibrant skin, the sculpted muscles, the light thatch of dark hair across his chest, the firm, flat stomach –
And her eyes traveled lower to the front of his trousers, where a very sizable bulge pressed against the cloth.
She had never wanted anything more in her entire life than to see what lay beneath those trousers.
Her hands fumbled at his belt, and again he grinned and drew back. First he kicked off his boots, then he unlatched the buckle, and he let her pull away the pants to expose his entire nakedness.
She had slept with one other man – the event that had precipitated her coming here to Blakewood. She had seen paintings, she had seen statues. None of that had prepared her for the long, thick, gorgeous member that strained from the dark curls between his muscular thighs.
She held out one trembling hand to touch it – hesitated – and then softly, softly traced her fingers over its surface.
The skin was like silk to the touch, but hot as a feverish brow.
She closed her hand around it, so thick that her fingers did not meet on the other side. Despite the softness of the skin, the flesh beneath was hard as iron, and she could feel it throb in her hand.
Evan groaned with pleasure.
She ran her fingers up the length of his staff, and a hunger awoke in her, a lustfulness she had never felt before. If she did not feel his manhood inside her soon, she knew she would surely die.
Evan got to his knees and frantically ripped the shift the rest of the way and pulled the pieces back like a robe. Her entire body lay naked and exposed to him.
He gently parted her legs with his own, and she opened them wide. He positioned himself over her, and her body shivered as that thick, glorious shaft touched her belly.
He leaned in and kissed her again, suckled her lip, and grazed her with his tongue.
She could feel him repositioning himself atop her as he braced most of his weight on his forearms.
She thought of that glorious, massive shaft and ached to have it inside her. She did not feel it yet – she wanted to feel it so badly, the anticipation was killing her –
And then, slowly, slowly, he began to enter her.
The soft head parted her nether lips and she gasped with joy. The head alone was thicker than anything she had felt before. A sweet bliss as hot as fire coursed through her lower parts.
Slowly, slowly, the head eased into her, and she could feel the shaft sliding across her drenched lips, enslaving her with pleasure.
Slowly, slowly, he kept going.
He pulled back the tiniest bit, and she was afraid that he was pulling out – but no, then he slowly began penetrating her once again.
She could not believe it – how long it was, how thick it was, how thoroughly it filled her.
There was the tiniest bit of pain, but it was washed away by the indescribable (and growing) ecstasy that flooded her from head to toe.
Once he was entirely inside her, when his hips pressed tight to hers, he sought her mouth and penetrated her again with his tongue, so that he was deep inside her twice over.
Then he began to slowly withdraw…and slowly, slowly move back inside her.
Her breath came in jagged gasps. She could not believe the waves of delight that receded the slightest as he slid a few inches out of her, then doubled as he reentered her.
He pulled his lips away from hers and began to kiss at her neck.
Blood sang in her ears. Her skin flushed as his lips tickled her.
She had died and gone to heaven.
If only Paradise were like this!
And then it got even better.
PASSION AND PRIDE
Copyright 2012-2016 Olivia Thorne
No part of this excerpt may be reprinted or reused without author's permission.