Free My Three Masters by Juniper Bell

advantage of terror, but he had the edge in
swiftness. I stumbled over a tree root and fell headlong onto the dirt. Even
though I instantly scrambled to my knees, he caught up to me. He dropped to his
knees and grabbed one of my legs to prevent my escape.
    “I didn’t know,” he panted. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
    I went still, the way a fox does when scenting the air to
decide on the best path. Then I cried out, “Let me be,” and tried to kick away
from him.
    He only tightened his grip. I sobbed and kicked again.
“Release me! Release me, you beast!”
    “I’m not going to hurt you, Miranda. I would never hurt
you.”
    Should I believe him? Did I believe him? In the next moment,
none of that mattered, because he covered my body with his and claimed my
mouth. I trembled violently at the fierce sensation of hot, invading flesh. All
thoughts melted in an inferno of desire. When he speared his tongue into my
eager mouth, my knees turned to flowing honey. I felt the pounding of his heart
under his riding jacket. It made me think of muscles and sinew and dark
possibilities. I squeezed my thighs together, feeling an eager throb animate my
woman’s parts.
    He gave a rough exclamation. “You are a witch,” he muttered.
“When I’m near you I can think of nothing but stripping the clothing from your
body and stroking you with my tongue.”
    I moaned in response. He put his hand to the modest neckline
of my pink dress. “If I could, I’d rip this right off you.” Instead he traced
the edge with his finger as shivers shot through me. Then he placed his hand on
my breast and I jumped. The tip became so hard, so immediately, I wondered if
it would thrust itself right through the cloth.
    He rubbed his palm over me and I cried out. When he filled
both hands with my bosom, my back arched off the grass.
    “That feels good, does it? Oh if I could have you stretched
out before me, your arms tied overhead, how I would feast on you.” He said that
last as if to himself, but the words scorched a pathway through my addled
brain. The hot tone of his voice, his provocative words, set off a clamor
inside of want and naked craving.
    I peeked through my lashes at him, thrilled by the way his
eyes lit with black fire. With another muffled curse, he grasped my wrists in
one hand and pinned them to the ground above my head. With the other hand,
without ceremony, he reached into my bodice and uncovered my bosom. Full and
fleshy, my breasts tumbled into the open air, their peaks tight and eager. Air
brushed across them, a mist-scented breeze mixed with the hot breath of the
Marquis. At first he merely stared at them, but even that stirred their
excitement to new heights.
    “What lovely, plump nipples you have,” he said, his voice
thick. He brushed his thumb across the very tip of one. I twisted at the wild
sensation, my wrists tugging against his iron grip.
    “Be still,” he commanded.
    Still? It seemed impossible with the way he was consuming my
body with his eyes and touch. But I clung to the authority in his voice, the
calm strength and the utter conviction that everything he did would be
sublimely pleasurable.
    He bent his head to my nipple and licked it. I let out a
shocked gasp but managed to stay still. He swirled his tongue around its
circumference, slowly, luxuriously, leaving fairy-dust sparkles of joy in his
wake. My entire being seemed to melt and expand. Every thought flew away except
those concerning him and the miraculous things he was doing to such a private
part of my anatomy. My entire world seemed to narrow to those twin pinpoints of
sensation as he tugged and teased.
    “My lord, my lord, it feels… Oh my, it feels…”
    “Shh,” he said, raising his head briefly from his work. His
lips looked moist and red, matching the nipples that still begged for his
touch.
    “No! Don’t stop.”
    He chuckled. “You are a treasure, my dear. You do know I’ll
never let you go after this? And this is just the