Free Claiming Her Innocence by Ava Sinclair Page B

wanted you, m’lady.”
    When the door opened, she startled.
    “Are you well?” he asked, when he saw her sitting by the fire.
    “I am,” she said. “I was just waiting.”
    “The wait is over,” he said, and swept her up into his arms.
    “Whatever are you doing?” she asked.
    “Carrying you to my room before you change your mind,” he said. Outside the door, he nearly ran into Betsy. “Whatever are you doing here, girl? It’s Christmas Eve and your lady is in good hands. Go home, Betsy. Enjoy the holiday. I’ll tend to your lady for the next few days.”
    Betsy gave a knowing grin followed by a giggle, and Penelope realized she’d probably never seen the master of the house in just his nightshirt. “Thank you. And Merry Christmas, Lord and Lady Westcott.”
    Penelope wrapped her arms around his neck as he bore her down the hall. She’d never been in Alton’s bedchamber. It was masculine, like its inhabitant. The heavy carved mahogany bed was hung with velvet drapes. A blaze crackled in the fireplace.
    At long last, they were alone as a married couple. The only thing that had kept him from taking her—his promise—had been fulfilled. They were married, and she came to her wedding night as a virgin. Now he would make her a woman.
    “You’re the loveliest little thing I’ve ever seen,” he said. “And the most exciting.”
    She flushed, for that excitement was evident. The mighty cock she’d touched two nights earlier was standing straight out, tenting the front of her husband’s nightshirt.
    He stepped toward her and undid the ties on the shoulders of her gown, and then stood back as it slid off her body in a hiss of silk.
    Lifting her again, Alton deposited Penelope on the bed. She lay back, looking at him as her hair fanned around her, and watched from beneath hooded lids as he pulled his nightshirt off. He was beautiful, like a sculpted statue, she thought. His muscles reminded her of his strength, and her own helplessness before it. The thought should have scared her, but instead it sent a surge of wetness from between the lips of her throbbing pussy. Penelope squirmed on the bed.
    Alton knelt over her. He ran the tip of one finger from her jawline down to her breast, circling her nipple, before lowering his head to take the peak in his mouth. Penelope arched her back; the sensation of his mouth drawing on her breast sent a corresponding jolt of pleasure to a pussy aching to be filled.
    His hands were roaming her curves, cupping her bottom. He’d moved between her legs; his cock was hard where it pressed against her thigh. She strained against him, spreading her legs, not caring that she was playing the wanton.
    “Please,” she said.
    “Please what?” Alton slid up her body and was face to face with her.
    “I want… I’m ready.”
    “Ready for what?”
    “I want you to put your cock inside my pussy,” she said.
    “Oh, what a naughty girl,” he said. “And I will. But first I have a gift for you.”
    Leaning over, he picked up a small box from the bedside table.
    “A gift, now?” She sat up with him, feeling confused and a bit frustrated. Arousal coated her thighs and her nipples were firm, tingling peaks. Still, she wanted to please him, so she tore away the wrapper and opened the box.
    “What is it?” she asked, examining the object in her hand. It was a smooth tapered dowel with a circular disc at the end.
    “It’s a trainer,” he said. “Tonight I’ll take your first virginity. Over the next few weeks, you’ll get one of these, each slightly larger, to prepare you for the night I take your second virginity.”
    “You mean my bottom?”
    “You are a quick study,” he said. “But first things first.”
    Alton took the trainer from her and put it back on the table. Then he lay down, lifted Penelope, and positioned her to sit on his chest.
    “Raise up on your knees,” he said.
    “Why?” she asked, uncertainty in her voice.
    “Because your husband commands