Free The Harlot by Saskia Walker Page B

inside.
    â€œWill I do, do you think? If you tutor me some more?” Her eyelids fluttered.
    Was this genuine submission, or a ruse to make him rest easy? He gave a wry smile and cupped the back of her head. “You’ll do.”
    Her expression grew even more serious. “You think your enemy’s attention will be secured, if I act that way and do it well enough?”
    Her comment reminded him most firmly of his purpose, that which had driven him these past eleven years. For a moment there, he’d forgotten it. That reassured him she was a good choice for the task. She would lure Ivor Wallace’s attention completely. That was what Gregor needed to know, after all. He reassured himself that the lesson had been valuable.
    Still she gazed up at him, her lips parted as she awaited his answer. Unable to resist, he inhaled her sweet nectar from his fingers, and licked them. She tasted good. He would allow himself to enjoy more of that. Not yet, but before his enemy had her.
    Jessie watched what he did, and then her teeth bit into her lower lip, her eyes darkening once more as she observed his actions. Her breasts lifted and lowered more quickly, and he knew she was already growing ready for coupling.
    â€œYou are undoubtedly suitable for the task,” he eventually replied. “With practice.”

FIVE
    MISTER RAMSAY WENT OUT ONTO THE LANDING to call for service, and after he returned, Mistress Muir appeared at the door. He ordered food for one.
    Jessie observed the exchange with curiosity. Wasn’t he going to feed her? She was not overly concerned, for she’d had a good meal that morning and her mind was still on what she considered the unfinished business of earlier. While she had been over his lap, the heavy bough of his erection pressing against her had made her dizzy with lust.
    Jessie was surprised he had not used her to satisfy his own needs, those that were so readily obvious. The bulge in his breeches barely subsided for several long minutes afterward, and not until he set about studying papers he pulled from his trunk. Why did he resist?
    When he’d had her across his lap, she’d been willing him to turn her so that she was splayed and ready to be probed with that sturdy length. The hiding he had given her only seemed to arouse them both to a state of frenzy. Yet now his wholeattention was given over to the papers from his trunk. Were they so important, and what else had he in there?
    When he caught sight of her eyeing the trunk, he got up and shut the lid. “Tidy yourself up,” he instructed, with a frown.
    That interested her. He did not want her to see what was inside his precious chest. Languidly, she laced the bodice of her borrowed dress while she speculated about what he might have in there. Patience had never been within Jessie’s grasp for any length of time, but she attempted to sit by quietly, waiting for him to resume instructions. She was sure that when he continued to order her about, as seemed to be his wont, things would move forward to a mutually satisfying result.
    However, when the alewife brought a plate of pigeon pie and a mug of ale on a tray, Mister Ramsay gestured at Jessie, indicating it was for her. The look of the baked pigeon and pastry lid made her appetite grow. There was easily enough for two, and she would enjoy feeding it to him. But he was busying himself, as if preparing to leave. He had strapped a sheathed dagger to his belt and was now putting on his frock coat and hat. Confused, she stood by the table, picking at the pastry crust with her fingers.
    â€œYou are not hungry, sire?” she asked as she lifted a morsel to her mouth.
    He did not look at her when he made his reply. “I have business to attend to this afternoon. Take the food and go to your room.”
    He gestured at the small room in which she had slept. She thought it rather odd, but the food was now her main concern. It was by far the best meal she had