Free Pleasuring the Lady (The Pleasure Wars) by Jess Michaels Page B

was already wet and his cock swelled against the uncomfortable tightness of his trousers.
    “Miles,” she whispered as he ground his palm down against her body, creating pressure against just the right spot. Her breath caught, and she turned her face into his neck, shuddering as he increased the stroke of his hand. When she was trembling he slid a finger into her sheath and held back a low, possessive groan.
    She was slick and hot and oh, so very tight around him. He pressed a thumb to her clitoris and began to circle the nub as he rocked his finger in and out, in and out. Her back arched and she gave a little squeal as her body began to convulse from release. He continued to stroke her through the crisis and only stopped when she went limp against the carriage seat.
    He pressed another kiss to her parted lips before he glided her skirts back into place and moved to his original position in the carriage, just as the vehicle came to a stop at her doorstep.
    She stared at him in disbelief. “I never imagined it could be so powerful.”  
    He arched a brow at that unexpected observation and could not help wondering how much she knew about the pleasures of the flesh. But he did not ask as his footman opened the door and held it for their exit. Miles stepped from the carriage and held out a hand to her. The same hand that had touched her so intimately not a moment before. She stared at the outstretched fingers for too long before she took them and allowed his assistance.
    Mrs. Potts opened the door and her face reflected surprise at Miles being there. “Good afternoon, my lady, my lord.”
    “Potts, isn’t it?” Miles asked, handing over his greatcoat to the blinking housekeeper.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Excellent. Will you bring us tea in that little parlor? And then Lady Portia and I will require a bit of privacy.” He looked at his apparent fiancée closely. “We have a great deal to discuss.”
     
    Portia trembled as Potts poured the tea and then stepped to the door. “Will you require anything further?”
    “No,” Miles answered for her. “Close the door.”
    Potts shot Portia a look but did as she was told. As the click of the door shutting all but echoed in the room, Portia shifted with discomfort.  
    “You should not be ordering my servants about.”
    He arched a brow. “That is what you are worried about in this moment?”
    She stared at him. “What am I worried about in this moment could fill a room in itself, one far bigger than this one.”
    He motioned to the settee and took his own place on the chair. She tried not to think about what her twinge of disappointment meant, not when her body still tingled from his intimate touch in the carriage.
    What he had done to her body was far more intense than any pleasure she had ever brought to herself.  
    “I think we have established that this marriage is not something either of us would have chosen. Certainly not in this matter that is thrust upon us?” Miles said.
    Her warmer thoughts faded. “I thought you wished to accuse me of entrapping you.”
    He frowned, and the lingering doubt on his face made her turn her gaze from him. He didn’t trust her, and she supposed she deserved it. But she had little choice but to trust him .
    “Miles, I realize I don’t deserve it, but I need your help,” she whispered. She looked up and he was staring at her intently.  
    “My help?” he repeated. “With what?”
    She drew in a breath. The idea of explaining the full horror of her life was so painful she could hardly take it. More to the point, she wasn’t sure she could fully explain her plight.
    “Will you come with me?” she asked, getting to her feet. “Please.”
    He hesitated, then motioned toward the door. “Lead the way.”
    As she exited, Potts poked her head out of the dining room. When she saw Portia going upstairs, she stumbled into the foyer. “Where are you going, miss?”
    “Is my mother…is my mother dressed?” Portia whispered.
    Potts