“I’m afraid I don’t know him,” she said sincerely.
“He was…” Sandhurst shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn’tmatter any longer. Fine. I agree to your terms. But I have one of my own.”
Good heavens. She should have anticipated as much. “Go on.”
He pulled another of her buttons from its mooring. “Duringthis month, your body belongs to me. I’m free to take you as often as I wish,in whatever manner I wish.”
Your body belongs to me.
She thought of all the deliciously naughty things he hadsaid and done to her. A sweet, hot burst of desire hit her anew. Oh, what thisman did to her. She was helpless to defend herself. An image of the two of themnude and entwined rose in her mind. She recalled all too well how he had usedhis tongue on her to bring her to the heights of pleasure. How she longed forhim to once again send her careening into that heady world of desire.
“I agree,” she said quietly, lest she change her mind.
After all, she had come to Lady Needham’s country houseweekend in search of wild and wicked adventure. She’d been seeking a lover,someone to awaken her body to the bliss her dear friend Victoria had told herabout. And she had found that, albeit with the very last person in the worldshe’d ever expected.
Her own husband.
Chapter Four
He had just secured himself a new mistress, albeit the verylast woman in the world he’d ever expected. His bloody wife. He stared at her,wondering if he’d gone utterly mad.
Yes, by God, he had. Why else would he be about to embark onthe most preposterousaffairein the history of bed sport? His wife, whohe had neither wanted nor cared for since the their wedding day, was somehowmaking his skin go hot as a tea kettle set to boil and his cock hard enough tohang a bucket of coal from it. He wanted to be inside her again, pounding hersweet, wet cunny until he filled her with his seed. The mere thought was enoughto make him groan.
She looked unbearably luscious in her black silk gown. Herbreasts were a creamy temptation popping out of her bodice. He wanted to suckone of her perfect pink nipples into his mouth. Madness had never seemed morecompelling. Damn. She’d bewitched him.
He kissed her then before he said something mutton-headedlike she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. Because somehow, she was.He’d been so busy keeping his distance that he’d failed to notice. Caught up ashe’d been in Eleanor, he hadn’t allowed himself to notice.
Her soft lips were as eager as his, every bit as hungry. Hehad to have her. And he could have her as many times as he wished for the nextmonth. It should have appalled him, the bargain he’d just struck with her.Instead, it sent a fresh wave of urgency to his already engorged cock.
Simon dragged his lips from hers. He cupped her lovely facein his hands, mesmerized for a moment by the pure beauty she was. He had missedher, looked through her, had seen her as a means to an end. He supposed he’dbeen too caught up in his resentment to pay attention to the gem that hadfallen into his lap. He would not make the mistake again.
“I want you naked,” he said, reveling in their newfoundpeace. He was free to do whatever he wished, to want her. And what he wantednow more than ever was to fill her with his cock, to lose control, spendhimself inside her cunny. All the years he’d been careful with avoiding siringa bastard fell away. It didn’t matter any longer. He’d already fallen off thebloody ledge the night he’d taken his wife to bed. There was somethinganimalistic about the way she made him feel, as if he wanted to brand her ashis, fuck her so hard and so deep that she could never think of another managain. Yes, his conscience could bloody well go to hell.
Her luscious mouth was swollen with his kiss. He’d neverbefore felt so possessive, so proud of making a woman his, not even withEleanor. And Maggie was his in a way Eleanor had never been, would never be.He’d been the first man to take her. He slid a hand down to her tiny waist,anchoring her to him. The hectares of fabric between them had to be done awaywith, of that much he was certain.
“Do you want me?” He had to know, and he also had to admitthat he loved hearing naughty admissions from her innocent lips.
“Of course I want you,” she whispered, her eyes searing his,“even though I should not.”
He wanted to remove her garments. He wanted to pull away hertrappings and get to the lush woman hiding beneath. With Eleanor, she had oftenbeen prepared in some sort of naughty creation, or completely nude and waitingfor him. She’d been well aware of what she was doing. With other women, it hadbeen the same. But he found there was something incredibly arousing aboutMaggie, who little knew how to employ the expected. He preferred her innocence,actually, as it prolonged the anticipation and heightened the pleasure.
His fingers unerringly found the buttons on her bodice. Hetore open several more before he grew tired of the lengthy process and begantearing.
“Sandhurst,” Maggie protested, her hands staying his, “thisis a very expensive gown.”
For a spoiled American heiress, she was certainly cautious.He frowned at her, his cock raging to be inside her. “Call me by my givenname.”
She worried her lower lip, looking utterly adorable. Hewanted to tear her gown from her in shreds and carry her nude to her bed. “I’veforgotten what it is.”
Christ. She didn’t know his name. He supposed he couldn’tfault her. They’d been strangers for the entirety of their union, but somehowhe had never forgotten hers. “Simon.” His hands seized the separation in herbodice and yanked, successfully rending the remaining buttons from theirmoorings. Several of them popped to the floor. He pushed the fabric down overher shoulders and she shucked it even as her expression became pinched.
“You are a dress murderer,” she murmured. “First my trainand now my bodice.”
Yes, when she put it that way, it quite seemed he was bentupon destroying her wardrobe. But the truth of it was that her wardrobe wasmerely an innocent barrier keeping him from what he wanted. Her.
“Apologies,” he said with patent insincerity. “Your dresseshave too damn many buttons.”
“Fashion decrees it,” she returned, her hands busy at workon his coat.
