Free Sweet Torture (Fated for Love) by Ella J. Quince

was saying a lot.
    Lydia pulled away , looking flushed and deliciously rumpled. They both sat up on the settee and began to straighten their appearance in silence.
    “I daresay , you got more than a kiss,” Lydia quipped after she had refastened her robe and began to re-braid her hair.
    “I think we both did , sweet.” Devon watched her in fascination. Lydia in disarray was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
    “I should go before we tempt fate any longer.” She stood. She looked bashful, and a little bit hesitant to meet his gaze.
    Devon walked her to the door , but before he opened it, he took her in his arms again and kissed her senseless. “Now go to bed before we get caught, and you ruin my reputation.”
    Lydia smiled dazedly and slipped out of the Library. Devon watched her fade into the darkness before closing the door and leaning against it. He looked down at his trousers. How was he going to explain this to his valet? Bother it; he paid the man well enough to earn his silence.

Chapter 8
     
     
    The days flew by in a dream like whirl of social gatherings and hidden trysts. Lydia felt positively wicked, but longed for those moments when Devon would catch her off guard and sweep her into some hidden cove, dark parlor, or steamy conservatory fragrant with exotic flowers and fruit. Her behavior was reprehensible, but she loved it. Never had she defied the social norms or broken the sacred doctrine of propriety that had been preached to her from her earliest memories. Lydia didn’t care. When she was with Devon, none of it mattered. The cocoon of his embrace was a place of pleasurable warmth, kisses, and caresses that brought Lydia a completely new awareness of herself. She was a desirable woman with wants and needs of her own.
    She was not the icy façade she pretended to be for the ton , but a living breathing creature of passion, and that’s exactly what Devon gave her. Each kiss, each caress, led her further down a road of which she could not return. She was becoming startling aware of her body, and all the ways Devon could make her feel pleasure. He was peeling away her modesty little by little until she panted for more, and ached for the brush of his tongue against her nipple or the thrust of his arousal against her.
    They had resumed their normal banter in the public arena , and no longer did Olivia cast them curious glances. Lydia enjoyed tossing barbs back and forth with Devon, knowing that at some point later in the evening he would make her pay dearly, and she awaited it with delicious anticipation.
    As t he morning waned into early afternoon, Lydia was sitting in the family parlor with Olivia and Lady Ellsley. She yawned discreetly as she worked her needle over a delicate hummingbird suspended over a flower. Embroidery wasn’t her strong suite, but it was one of the mindless tasks drilled into her as a suitable past time for a young lady. A knock sounded on the door and a maid entered with tea and scones. She stopped before Lydia and Olivia, who shared a settee, and curtsied.
    “I have a note for Lady Olivia, and a letter for Lady Lydia.”
    Both women looked up curiously, as they were each handed their items. Lady Ellsley looked up and raised a brow in question as Olivia hurriedly opened the sealed parchment.
    “Oh , it’s from Chance! He has visited with Lilly, and she is well. He will see us at the Stillwort ball, and will give us the details then. What a relief!” Olivia smiled brightly.
    Lady Ellsley frowned deeply. “Olivia, need I remind you how unseemly it is to receive notes from gentlemen?”
    “Oh , Mama, it’s just Chance, Lord Armstrong. He is a dear friend of ours, isn’t that right, Lydia?”
    Lydia nodded absently as she read her letter. It was from her mother . Her aunt was on the mend and she would be arriving home tomorrow. She went on to say, that Lord Caverly had sent the loveliest bouquet, and offered to escort them to the Stillwort ball. It seemed they had been