Her name is Lysandra Keates, and she arrived uninvited on my doorstep a few days ago. I do not know the particulars of her situation as of yet, but my impression is that she is in dire straits. She has begged me to match her with a man.” “I am not looking for a mistress!” Andrew snapped, but he couldn’t help a brief, powerful image of the girl in the garden…in his bed, her legs wrapped around him as he drove into her.
Jess MichaelsAndrew had been staring, mesmerized as Vivien recounted the details of Lysandra’s request, but now he shook off his interest. “And again, what does this have to do with me?” “I need a man who would be willing to gently introduce her to pleasure. One who would be patient with her fears and yet experienced enough to turn her into a mistress any man would desire.” Andrew opened his mouth, but found he could say nothing for a moment. Once again, images bombarded his mind. Illicit. And much more befitting the man he had once been many years before.
Jess MichaelsAndrew followed the direction of her elegant hand and was surprised to see that there was, indeed, a woman in the garden below. “Yes?” He turned toward Vivien and found she was holding out a spyglass for him. “Look a little closer, you could hardly see any detail of her from all the way up here.” He tilted his head in increasing confusion. “Vivien—” “Please,” she insisted, her tone firm.
With a grunt, Andrew took the glass from her hand and peered through the viewer to the young woman below. As he focused on her face, his breath caught. She was utterly lovely. Chestnut locks framed a face with high cheekbones and full lips, not to mention china-blue eyes that lit up with delight as she paused to sniff this flower or that. Her clothing was well-worn, but when she twisted to observe her surroundings, it accentuated soft curves. Andrew shifted as a most unfamiliar feeling began to stir his loins. Desire, hot and powerful, pumped through his veins, and he lowered the spyglass in shock. He hadn’t had such a strong reaction to a woman in years.
“I assume you like what you see,” Vivien said softly. Andrew clenched his teeth. There was no hiding the swelling of his cock through the tight breeches he wore, and Vivien was too aware of such things not to notice. “She is, obviously, very pretty,” he said coolly as he handed the glass back to Vivien and turned away. He tried to think of anything, anyone, that might force the inconvenient blood upward. “She is looking for a protector,” Vivien said from behind him. “I thought you might be the right match for her.” Andrew spun around, no longer caring if his erection was obvious. “I beg your pardon?” he barked.
How could you not tell me?” she whispered. “You were supposed to be my friend.” He jolted.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, flattening his palm against her back and molding her against him even closer. She stared up at him, eyes wide in the firelight, breath short. Everything between them shifted in that moment. She recognized that he wanted her. Better yet, he saw no resistance to that in her trembling body or wide-eyed stare. In fact, he saw a faint flicker of her own desire mirrored in there. Unexpected and glorious.
This is what you want?” he panted, pressing into her just half an inch. She squeezed her eyes shut. God help her, but the answer was yes.
Just a few weeks after the death of her lover, she wanted nothing more than to be taken, hard and fast, by his best friend. Despite the fact that it made her nothing better than a lightskirt trolling the streets. Despite the fact that John had offered her no future, nor had he offered a future to any woman in as long as she’d known him. But those troubling facts mattered little.
She wanted him inside of her. She wanted him to make her come over and over again. She wanted to feel their bodies merge just as she had always imagined they would. “Fuck me,” she said, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “Now.
He was undone. His cock throbbed against his trousers and his whole body was poised, ready to explode. “Some day the time will come when I will take my time with you,” he promised. “I’m certain at some point this madness that steals my control will cease.” Mariah’s lips parted in surprise at his statement. John was known for his restraint with lovers—how could it be that she stole that from him? She might have asked, but at that moment John stripped his shirt over his head and shucked his boots and trousers off. She could scarcely breathe, let alone speak, as she stared at him. They were naked together. She never would have dreamed that would ever happen. But here they were. He stepped forward and dragged her against him. His mouth came to hers again, rough and demanding, but utterly and sinfully pleasurable. She lost herself when he tasted her, sucking her tongue like he had laved her tingling nipple.
Jess MichaelsFor a long time, they leaned against the wall, foreheads pressed together, breathing matched. They were one body, bound by the passion they’d shared. Mariah didn’t think she’d felt so close to a lover before. As if he sensed those deeper thoughts, John kissed her cheek with such gentleness that it brought tears to her eyes and withdrew from her.
Jess MichaelsHe nodded. “From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you. It was the night of the Nethercourt gathering three years ago. You wore a green gown and your eyes seemed to be alive with color. You entered the room and I had to have you… I would have had you, except that Owen told me you were his new mistress.”
Mariah blinked in increasing disbelief at the detail John could recount of the night of their first meeting. “I—I had no idea of your feelings.”
“Of course not.” John frowned. “I made certain you did not, nor did Owen. I would not have betrayed him in such a manner. But my desire for you never decreased. Although I suppose that fact is rather clear since I have taken you not once, but twice in recent days. And without much finesse either time, for which I apologize.”
Mariah set her cup away and leaned back in the chair to stare at him. “You act as though I received no pleasure from those encounters. I assure you, I did. A great deal, both times.”
He smiled, almost in relief. “Good. I would hate to think I have left a poor impression.
He wanted her. Now. He wanted her all night. Every night for a week. A month. Maybe even a year. He sank down in a chair beside the fire and rubbed his eyes. “I’m in trouble,” he muttered. And never had he believed a statement more.
Jess MichaelsNo, I have made sure of that over the past few weeks, hell, over the past few years. But I want to correct that. I…” He hesitated. “I love you, Mariah.”
Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him. She was dreaming. Except when she pinched herself, she remained just where she was, only with a sore spot tingling her arm.
“I do want a wife,” he continued. “To protect me as much as I protect her. To be a partner. A friend. A lover. That wife is you. It could only ever be you.
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