Free Sylvia Day - [Georgian 02] by Passion for the Game Page A

she moaned a low, plaintive sound.
    “This is how we will start the day.” Christopher’s raspy voice was a tactile caress across her fevered skin. “Don’t move. I will suck you to orgasm, and your cunt will do the same for me.”
    If she could have spoken, she would have told him that was impossible, but then he would have proven her wrong. His mouth was enchanted, tugging firmly in a timed rhythm, his tongue stroking back and forth across the underside of her nipple. First one, and then the other. His large hands with their tantalizing calluses soothed her as she became more agitated, her body writhing over his in its quest for orgasm.
    When she climaxed, he followed her, her cunt grasping at his cock, luring his seed, spasming as he flooded her with a guttural cry. Maria was held taut, suspended, caught in a grip of brutally fierce pleasure.
    He caught her close, engulfing her in warm arms, his lips pressed tightly to her forehead. He fell asleep that way.
    But even in slumber, he did not let her go.
     
    Maria entered her rooms with a sigh of relief. She had not been seen by anyone, a miracle made possible by pressing herself into recessed doorways to avoid detection by industrious maids.
    In another part of the manse, Christopher slept on. He had frowned when she pulled away from him, but he did not wake.
    Shutting the gallery door, Maria moved through the sitting room toward her bedchamber and stopped midstep, startled by the large form that filled the doorway.
    “Mhuirnín.”
    Simon leaned against the doorjamb, his body fully clothed and beautifully attired in rose-colored breeches with matching coat. One heeled foot crossed over the other, but the artless pose was unable to hide the tension of his frame.
    “You gave me a fright,” she admonished, her hand pressed over her racing heart.
    His gaze started at the top of her head and dropped all the way to her bare feet. She was drowning in Christopher’s robe, so there was not much of her to see, but she knew the night’s lascivious activities could not be disguised.
    “You slept with him,” he noted. Straightening, Simon came to her with his leisurely, seductive stride and cupped her face in his hands. “I do not trust him. Because of that, I do not trust you with him.”
    “Do not think about it.”
    “Easier said than done. Women often find their feelings tangled with sex. That concerns me.”
    “Aside from you, I have never had that problem.”
    His mouth twitched. “I’m flattered.”
    “No,” she said wryly, “you’re arrogant.”
    “That, too.” His half smile widened into a grin.
    Maria shook her head, yawning. “I need sleep. After I bathe, we will be departing. I think I will nap in the carriage.”
    “Dover. Sarah informed me.” He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her forehead. “She has nearly finished packing. My trunks are already on the coach in the drive.”
    “I will not take long.” The scent of Christopher clung to her skin and made her stomach quiver. He had killed for her, then made passionate love to her, and then held her with such tenderness . . . The multiple sides to him took her by surprise, rocking the very foundations of the image of the pirate she had once entertained.
    Simon stepped back and then moved to the sideboard to pour a glass of water. “I urge you to haste, mhuirnín . We do not want any unpleasant scenes.”
    Maria hurried to the bedroom door, then paused on the threshold. “Simon?”
    He looked at her with brows raised in silent query.
    “Do I tell you often enough how much I appreciate you?”
    “You love me,” he replied with a wicked grin. “There is no need to say it, I know you do.” He tossed back his drink and poured another. “But feel free to tell me as often as you like. My ego can bear it.”
    Laughing, Maria shut the door.

Chapter 6
    “Y ou knew she would be departing this morn,” Thompson said, his face impassive.
    “Yes, yes.” Christopher sat on a wooden chair, his body