Free Seducing the Master (An Erotic Historical in the Red Chrysanthemum Series) by Em Brown Page B

him.
    “Now that you’ve seen my private, I think it
only fair…”
    She knelt before him and began to unbutton
his fall, freeing his quaint little erection. It was even smaller
than Sir Fairchild’s, who had not length but some girth. Sir Arthur
held his breath as she gazed upon his cock.
    “A lovely Thomas you have,” she purred,
stroking it with a finger.
    His breath became shallow. She wrapped her
fingers about him and leisurely moved up his length, dragging the
tips of her fingers over its crown. She put her forefinger to the
underside of his cock and gently caressed an area just below the
flare of the head. He groaned and closed his eyes. Wrapping her
hand about him once more, she rubbed, twisted, and pulled his
member.
    Sensing that he was near his peak, she
grabbed him more forcefully and pumped her hand up and down his
shaft. Within minutes, groaning and grunting, he spent, shooting
his seed a surprising distance. Some of his mettle dribbled onto
her hand, and she spread it about his quickly softening cock. He
quivered and, exhaling a long breath, slumped into the chair.
Rising to her feet, she found linen to wipe her hand, then went to
untie him. He shuddered once more before attempting to stand.
    “I shall call a valet for you,” she
said.
    He grabbed her arm before she could move. “A
lovely ‘performance’, Miss Terrell, but was it necessary to tie me
to the chair?”
    Once more she was struck by the menacing
quality of his tone, but she did not let it affect her. “If you
will allow it again, Sir Arthur, I will enlist my mouth for the
encore.”
    His eyes widened. She smiled prettily at him
before liberating her arm from his grasp.
    She refused to be daunted by this man. He
could prove of use to her. While she would have felt safer as the
mistress of someone with a more jovial nature, as Sir Fairchild’s
had been, she believed Sir Arthur to be genuinely flush in the
purse. Her youth and beauty would not last forever, and men like
Sir Arthur were the only means of securing her future.
     

 
    CHAPTER NINE
     
     
    “M y sister could not find
employment as a housemaid on account of them teapots,” said Sophia,
a member of the Red Chrysanthemum, who, like Terrell and Sarah,
relied on Madame Devereux for room and board.
    “The town is overrun with blackamoors,”
Sophia continued as Tippy dressed her hair.
    Sitting at a vanity nearby, Terrell watched
as the maid brushed long, soft locks. They reminded her of Master
Gallant’s, though lighter in color. After Sir Arthur had left, she
had dressed herself. Not surprisingly, the man had shown no
awareness that she might require release as well, but Terrell was
accustomed to such neglect. Moreover, she fully intended for Master
Gallant to address her needs.
    “I would sooner brush against a Jew than a
Negro,” continued Sophia, who was fully aware that Terrell occupied
the dressing chambers.
    The young woman, a few years senior, had
made no effort to conceal her contempt since the day Terrell first
arrived at the Red Chrysanthemum. Terrell had sought to fill the
position now held by Tippy, but the proprietress saw that Terrell
could best be of service in other capacities.
    “There won’t be a decent wage to be had on
account of them,” said Sophia. “I wonder that some of them don’t
work for scraps.”
    “For certain they work much harder, though
they be compensated less,” Terrell said with calm.
    Sophia glanced over, dainty nose wrinkled in
disdain. “ If they are possessed of a work ethic, and perhaps
they must, for even mules and oxen can be made to work. Their
coarse natures and inferior minds must put them at a
disadvantage.”
    Terrell said nothing, though she wanted to
respond, “If your kind were given to hard work, there would be no
need to enslave my kind to toil the fields.”
    Instead, she replied, “Lucky for me, the men
do prefer my coarse nature and inferior mind.”
    Sophia colored, no doubt remembering the one
gentleman who