Free Hot Silk by Sharon Page

make me yearn.”
    He couldn’t help the surge of pride. The bloody grin that came to his lips.
    She glanced up. “You would smirk, wouldn’t you?”
    “I like to hear that I pleased you, Grace.” Her curls fell about her neck, and he brushed them aside to put his lips to her damp throat. He had not had enough time with Grace.
    He wanted days with her. Weeks with her.
    With a shudder that went to his soul, he remembered the last time he had been unable to live without a woman. What a bloody mistake that had been.
    Grace pulled away, stealing her luscious vanilla-scented skin from his hungry mouth. “You did,” she muttered. “How you must know that you did.”
    “I am your champion, Grace, and my world is about sexual pleasure. Free, unfettered carnal exploration. Anything you desire, any way you wish—no judgment, no pain.”
    “For you perhaps. It would never be that way for me.” She shut her eyes and groaned. “And my coach was waiting to leave! What will they think?”
    Skimming his hand up, he pushed up heavy skirts and lace-trimmed petticoats. Grazing his thumb lazily around her quim, he said, “With me as your champion, Grace, you do not have to worry.”
    “But you cannot be my champion, Mr. Sharpe. I can never see you again.”

5
    August 1820, Near Brighton
    “W ake up, Devlin, darlin’, I’m feeling randy.”
    Devlin grunted, rolled over, and tried to ignore the pouting female purr and get back to his dream—he had been at a picnic, laid out on his stomach on a plaid rug, devouring Grace Hamilton’s juicy pussy under her frothy skirts. But even pulling the pillow over his head did not help. His dream was gone, so he shoved the pillow aside and cracked open an eye to be greeted by plump breasts and doe-brown nipples.
    Lucy leaned over him, bosom swaying, and gave a wriggle of frustration. “Hurry up, Dev. I’m about to pop, and then ye’ll miss all the fun.”
    “If he won’t wake up,” cried another feminine voice, “we could tie him up and take advantage of him. With our clever mouths, he couldn’t resist for long.”
    Lucy twisted on his bed and the morning light cast a gold sheen along the sloping profile of her breast. “Hush, Bess, why should he want to resist?”
    Beneath his lashes, Devlin saw Bess sashay into his bedchamber. Her dark curls were loose and fell over her bare breasts, but she quickly pushed back her demure hair and thrust her lush tits forward. As usual her nipples were rouged and he wondered which of his men had done that for her.
    Bess shrugged. “He’s still obsessed with that hoity-toity girl he can’t have, of course. But I’ve got a few lengths of rope with me, and I think we could finally make him forget her.”
    “I’ve no need of rope to capture a man’s interest.”
    Lucy’s tone was playful, but he heard the winsome note behind it. Devlin knew she no longer went to the beds of the other men—she waited for him. And that was a bloody bad sign.
    She yanked down his sheets before he could catch them. She bent her head and he sucked in a harsh breath as her auburn hair cascaded across his naked stomach. Rigid from his dream, his cock bounced up for attention and his moistening juices leaked out into the hair around his navel.
    It was physical need, and he’d buried himself in purely physical lust for two years. That and taking a few mad risks that had resulted in bullet wounds to both shoulders. The bullet that almost hit him in the thigh had proved too damned close for comfort, though. A reminder he was a fool to take risks while his thoughts centered on Grace Hamilton.
    Lucy’s tongue flicked skillfully over the head of his cock, and his juice bubbled out in response. Devlin groaned as his balls clenched tight and arousal shot hot and harsh through his body. His cock wanted to get slick and plunge into a willing woman, but his head and heart didn’t want to join in the fun.
    Her mouth opened wide, and, before his eyes, his rigid prick vanished