Desire

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Art of Seduction (2001)

  ishing money and gifts on her. then turned to the lady she Otero's New York debut, in October of 1890, was an astounding suc-was with— some friend, I guess— and spoke to her in cess. "Otero dances with abandon," read an article in The New York Times. English, which she thought "Her lithe and supple body looks like that of a serpent writhing in quick, I didn't understand. graceful curves." In a few short weeks she became the toast of New York However, I did. • " 'Who's the very society, performing at private parties late into the night. The tycoon Wil-handsome young man?' liam Vanderbilt courted her with expensive jewels and evenings on his Otero asked. • "The other yacht. Other millionaires vied for her attention. Meanwhile Jurgens was one answered, 'He's dipping into the company till to pay for presents for her—he would do Chevalier.' • " 'He has such beautiful eyes' ha anything to keep her, a task in which he was facing heavy competition. A Belle said, looking straight few months later, after his embezzling became public, he was a ruined man. at me, right up and down. He eventually committed suicide. • "Then she almost floored me with her frankness. • Otero went back to France, to Paris, and over the next few years rose to " 'I wonder if he'd like to become the most infamous courtesan of the Belle Epoque. Word spread go to bed with me. I think quickly: a night with La Belle Otero (as she was now known) was more ef-I'll ask him!' Only she didn't say it so delicately. fective than all the aphrodisiacs in the world. She had a temper, and was de-She was much cruder and manding, but that was to be expected. Prince Albert of Monaco, a man more to the point. • "It who had been plagued by doubts of his virility, felt like an insatiable tiger was at this moment I had after a night with Otero. She became his mistress. Other royalty followed— to make up my mind rather quickly. La Belle Prince Albert of Wales (later King Edward VII), the Shah of Persia, Grand moved toward me. Instead Duke Nicholas of Russia. Less wealthy men emptied their bank accounts, of introducing myself and and Jurgens was only the first of many whom Otero drove to suicide. succumbing to the consequences, I pretended I During World War I, a twenty-nine-year-old American soldier named didn't understand what Frederick, stationed in France, won $37,000 in a four-day crap game. On she'd said, uttered some his next leave he went to Nice and checked himself into the finest hotel. pleasantry in French and moved away to my dressing On his first night in the hotel restaurant, he recognized Otero sitting alone room. • "I could see La at a table. He had seen her perform in Paris ten years before, and had be-Belle smile in an odd

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  He watched as her chin lifted with defiance and her dark eyes met his without fear. She was tall and slender, with blonde curls tumbling down from a once-stylish arrangement. Her lovely watered-silk dress was torn at the shoulder, revealing a tempting display of creamy breast. A sooty handprint marred her flesh, and unable to help himself, Sebastian reached out and rubbed the offending mark away with gentle strokes of his thumb. She stiffened, and lifted her bound hands to knock his away. He met her gaze and held it. “Tell me your name again,” he murmured, his hand tingling just from that simple contact with her satin skin. She licked her bottom lip, and his blood heated further. “My name is Olivia Merrick, Countess of Merrick. My husband is Sebastian Blake, Earl of Merrick and future Marquess of Dunsmore.” He lifted her hands and stared at her ring finger, noting his crest etched in the simple gold band she wore. He scrubbed a hand over his face and turned away, striding to the nearest open window for a deep breath of salt-tinged air. Staring out at the water, he espied the debris from her ship bobbing in the waves. “Where is your husband, Lady Merrick?” he asked, keeping his back to her. Hope tinged her voice. “He awaits me in London.” “I see.” But he didn’t, not at all. “How long have you been married, my lady?” “I fail to see—” “How long?” he barked. “Nearly two weeks.” His chest expanded on a deep breath. “I remind you that we are in the West Indies, Lady Merrick. It is impossible that you were married only a fortnight ago. Your husband would not be able to await you in England if that were true.” She was silent behind him, and finally he turned to face her again. It was a mistake to have done so. Her beauty hit him with the force of a fist in his gut. “Would you care to explain?” he prodded, relieved he sounded so unaffected. For the first time, her bravado left her, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “We were married by proxy,” she confessed. “But I assure you, he will pay whatever ransom you desire despite the unusual circumstances of our marriage.” Sebastian moved toward her. His calloused fingers caressed the elegant curve of her cheekbone and entwined in her hair. Her breath caught, and her lips parted in response to his gentle touch. “I’m certain he would pay a king’s ransom for beauty such as yours.” Through the smoky smell that clung to her, he could detect the arousing scent of soft woman, warm and luxurious. He reached for the blade strapped to his thigh and withdrew it. She flinched away. “Easy,” he soothed. Sebastian held out his hand and waited patiently for her to step forward again. When she did, he sliced through the rope that tied her hands together, and sheathed his knife. He rubbed the marks on her delicate wrists.

• From The Art of Seduction (2001)

  mile a minute—he did not know what to expect. She finally appeared and dandy, he wants to hold it sat down behind the grating. They were alone in the room, and she said by unexpected, even that she could arrange for them to have supper together at a little villa ridiculous means. After Alcibiades, how many nearby. Casanova was delighted, but wondered what kind of nun he was apprentice dandies cut off dealing with. "And—have you no lover but me?" he asked. "I have a the tails of their dogs! The 243 244 • The Art of Seduction baron of Saint-Cricq, for friend, who is also absolutely my master," she replied. "It is to him I owe example, with his ice cream my wealth." She asked if he had a lover. Yes, he replied. She then said, in a boots: one very hot day, he mysterious tone, "I warn you that if you once allow me to take her place in ordered at Tortonis two ice creams, the vanilla served your heart, no power on earth can tear me from it." She then gave him the in his right boot, the key to the villa and told him to meet her there in two nights. He kissed her strawberry in his left through the grating and left in a daze. "I passed the next two days in a state boot. . . . The Count Saint-Germain loved to of feverish impatience," he wrote, "which prevented me from sleeping or bring his friends to the eating. Over and above birth, beauty, and wit, my new conquest possessed theater, in his voluptuous an additional charm: she was forbidden fruit. I was about to become a rival carriage lined in pink satin of the Church." He imagined her in her habit, and with her shaven head. and drawn by two black horses with enormous tails; He arrived at the villa at the appointed hour. Mathilde was waiting for he asked his friends in that him. To his surprise, she wore an elegant dress, and somehow she had inimitable tone of his: avoided having her head shaved, for her hair was in a magnificent chignon. "Which piece of entertainment did you wish Casanova began to kiss her. She resisted, but only slightly, and then pulled to see? Vaudeville, the back, saying a meal was ready for them. Over dinner she filled in a few Variety show, the Palais-more of the gaps: her money allowed her to bribe certain people, so that Royal theater? I took the liberty of purchasing a box she could escape from the convent every so often. She had mentioned for all three of them." Casanova to her friend and master, and he had approved their liaison. He Once the choice was made, must be old? Casanova asked. No, she replied, a glint in her eye, he is in his with a look of great

• From The Art of Seduction (2001)

  dress, which revealed her figure. A piece of muslin covered her breasts, let- and without paying ting him more than imagine them. Her hair, unfashionable in its slight dis- attention to my order, conjured the bedroom. And her face—he had never noticed how surroundings, although my reconnoitering glance left-expressive it was. Her features lit up when she gave alms to a beggar; she nothing unobserved— and blushed at the slightest praise. She was so natural and unself-conscious. And then my eyes fell upon her. when she talked of her husband, or religious matters, he could sense the My eyes fixed unswervingly upon her. depth of her feelings. If such a passionate nature were ever detoured into a They no longer obeyed love affair. . . . their master's will; it was Valmont extended his stay at the château, much to the delight of his impossible for me to shift my gaze and thus overlook aunt, who could not have guessed at the reason. And he wrote to the Mar- the object I wanted to quise de Merteuil, explaining his new ambition: to seduce Madame de see— I did not look, I Tourvel. The Marquise was incredulous. He wanted to seduce this prude? stared. As a fencer freezes If he succeeded, how little pleasure she would give him, and if he failed, in his lunge, so my eyes were fixed, petrified in the what a disgrace—the great libertine unable to seduce a wife whose husband direction initially taken. It was far away! She wrote a sarcastic letter, which only inflamed Valmont fur- was impossible to look 169 170 • The Art of Seduction down, impossible to ther. The conquest of this notoriously virtuous woman would prove his withdraw my glance, greatest seduction. His reputation would only be enhanced. impossible to see, because I There was an obstacle, though, that seemed to make success almost im-saw far too much. The only thing I have retained possible: everyone knew Valmont's reputation, including the Présidente. is that she had on a green She knew how dangerous it was to ever be alone with him, how people cloak, that is all—o ne would talk about the least association with him. Valmont did everything could call it capturing the cloud instead of Juno; she to belie his reputation, even going so far as to attend church services and has escaped me . . .and seem repentant of his ways. The Présidente noticed, but still kept her dis-left only her cloak tance. The challenge she presented to Valmont was irresistible, but could he behind. . . . The girl made meet it? an impression on me. • The sixteenth • . . . I feel

• From The Art of Seduction (2001)

  be played down, are quite wrong. On the contrary, it makes them more at- can you think of lovelier tractive. The virtuous Duchess de Montpensier, the Grande Mademoiselle of than water? But it flows seventeenth-century France, began by enjoying a friendship with the rake for the whole world. Is love alone then something Lauzun, but a troubling thought soon occurred to her: if a man with furtive rather than Lauzun's past did not see her as a possible lover, something had to be wrong something to be gloried in? with her. This anxiety eventually pushed her into his arms. To be part of a Exactly, that's just it— I don't want any of the good great seducer's club of conquests can be a matter of vanity and pride. We things of life unless people are happy to be in such company, to have our name broadcast as this man or are envious of them. woman's lover. Your own reputation may not be so alluring, but you must —PETRONIUS, THE SATYRICON, find a way to suggest to your victim that others, many others, have found TRANSLATED BY J. P. SULLIVAN you desirable. It is reassuring. There is nothing like a restaurant full of empty tables to persuade you not to go in. A variation on the triangle strategy is the use of contrasts: careful exploitation of people who are dull or unattractive may enhance your desirability by comparison. At a social affair, for instance, make sure that your target has to chat with the most boring person available. Come to the rescue and your target will be delighted to see you. In The Seducer's Diary, by Søren Kierkegaard, Johannes has designs on the innocent young Cordelia. Knowing that his friend Edward is hopelessly shy and dull, he encourages this man to court her; a few weeks of Edward's attentions will make her eyes wander in search of someone else, anyone else, and Johannes will make sure that they settle on him. Johannes chose to strategize and maneuver, but almost any social environment will contain contrasts you can make use of almost naturally. The seventeenth-century English actress Nell Gwyn became the main mistress of King Charles II because her humor and unaffect-edness made her that much more desirable among the many stiff and pretentious ladies of Charles's court. When the Shanghai actress Jiang Qing met Mao Zedong, in 1937, she did not have to do much to seduce him; the other women in his mountain camp in Yenan dressed like men, and were decidedly unfeminine. The sight alone of Jiang was enough to seduce Mao, who soon left his wife for her. To make use of contrasts, either develop and display those attractive attributes (humor, vivacity, and so on) that are the scarcest in your own social group, or choose a group in which your natural qualities are rare, and will shine.

• From The Art of Seduction (2001)

  Use absence only when you are sure of the target's affection, and never let it go on too long. It is most effective later in the seduction. Also, never create too much space—don't write too rarely, don't act too cold, don't show too much interest in someone else. That is the strategy of mixing pleasure with pain, detailed in chapter 20, and will create a dependent victim, or will even make him or her give up completely. Some people, too, are inveterately passive: they are waiting for you to make the bold move, and if you don't, they will think you are weak. The pleasure to be had from such a victim is less than the pleasure you will get from someone more active. But if you are involved with such a type, do what you need to if you are to have your way, then end the affair and move on. Use Physical Lures Targets with active minds are dangerous: if they see through your manipulations, they may suddenly develop doubts. Put their minds gently to rest, and waken their dormant senses, by combining a nondefen- sive attitude with a charged sexual presence. While your cool, nonchalant air is calming their minds and lowering their inhibitions, your glances, voice, and bearing— oozing sex and desire— are getting under their skin, agi- tating their senses and raising their temperature. Never force the physical; instead infect your targets with heat, lure them into lust. Lead them into the moment— an intensified present in which mo- rality, judgment, and concern for the fu- ture all melt away and the body succumbs to pleasure. Raising the Temperature In 1889, the top New York theatrical manager Ernest Jurgens visited France on one of his many scouting trips. Jurgens was known for his honesty, a rare commodity in the shady entertainment world, and for his ability to find unusual acts. He had to spend the night in Marseilles, and while wandering along the quay of the old harbor, he heard excited catcalls issuing from a working-class cabaret, and decided to go in. A twenty-one- The year was 1907 and year-old Spanish dancer named Caroline Otero was performing, and the La Belle [ Otero] , by then, minute Jurgens laid eyes on her he was a changed man. Her appearance was had been an international figure for over a dozen startling—five foot ten, fiery dark eyes, black waist-length hair, her body years. The story was told corseted into a perfect hourglass figure. But it was the way she danced that by M. Maurice Chevalier. made his heart pound—her whole body alive, writhing like an animal in • "I was a young star about to make my first heat, as she performed a fandango. Her dancing was hardly professional, but appearance at the Folies.

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  Stepping backward, she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the bed. “We have a few hours left. Why don’t you show me?” Sebastian looked out over the smelly, sooty mess that was the London wharf and, despite his best efforts, felt his stomach tie up in knots. He’d fled England the day after Edmund died and had never returned, had never wanted to, still didn’t. He sighed, taking comfort in Olivia. He would not be alone in this. His wife was thoroughly consummate in the social arts. “Good God!” she cried from behind him. Frowning, he spun on his heel. “What is it, love?” Olivia stood just outside the stairway, resplendent in a blue silk damask gown with lace-edged bodice and sleeves. A shiver of awareness flowed through him, bright and insistent. Her hand was pressed to her heart. “You . . . good grief . . .” She shook her head slowly. “Damn, you stopped my heart for a moment.” “Don’t swear,” he admonished with a roll of his eyes. His wife had spent far too many days at sea with foul-mouthed sailors, which was understandable considering her father’s trade. While he admonished her regularly, in truth he found her colorful speech rather charming. The small foible made her seem less perfect and more real, more his. After all, he was a man of overwhelmingly numerous faults. He waited patiently for her to explain the cause of her distress. Then Sebastian noted the feminine appreciation that lit her eyes and the smile that curved her lush mouth. In fact, now that he was paying attention, he had to admit she looked completely besotted. With him. He grinned. “I take it you approve of my attire.” Olivia glided toward him, all graceful elegance and luscious woman. “You look quite dashing. Magnificent, actually.” She pressed herself against him, heedless of the sailors who swarmed the deck and the pedestrians who moved along the crowded wharf. Her hands slid along the lapels of his fine wool coat, down the intricately embroidered silk of his waistcoat, over the bulge of his cock in his snug breeches, and around to the curve of his ass. Thankfully, her wandering touch was hidden from view by his long coat. “You, my gorgeous pirate, polish up beautifully.” With a firm grip on his hips, she tugged herself toward him, smiling wickedly. “Your cock is hard. Do you never tire of bedsport, Captain Phoenix?” Cupping the curve of her neck, he pressed an ardent kiss to her forehead. “Impossible with a wife as lusty as mine.” He frowned at her use of his alias, reminded of a task he had set for himself and never accomplished. “Wait for me a moment, sweet. I must speak with the captain.” She looked up at him curiously, but did as he asked without question. It took only a moment to locate the man he sought. “Captain, did you have the opportunity to speak with your crew about my identity?”

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  Julienne stared at the open portal. “Don’t you have one of these that lead out—” “No. This goes from here to my room. Nowhere else.” She shivered as his breath danced across her throat, the feeling so intimate as to have been almost a caress. “Mr. Remington, is there any way I could convince you of the impropriety of this arrangement? I’m truly sorry to have disturbed you.” His blue eyes darkened, and he opened his mouth to speak. Then he shut it and shook his head. “Go on now,” he urged in a husky whisper. “I have work to do.” Muttering under her breath, Julienne followed Janice into the secret hallway, feeling Remington’s eyes on her until she disappeared from sight. It took only moments to reach the upstairs gallery, where the courtesan ushered her into an opulent bedchamber. As soon as she stepped inside, Julienne paused, entranced. The Sapphire Room was the loveliest room she’d ever seen. The walls were covered in deep blue-and-cream stripes of silk, the massive bed was layered in lush indigo velvet, and the parquet floors were covered with rich Aubusson rugs. She spun slowly, attempting to picture Remington here. “My lady?” Julienne started in surprise at the use of her courtesy title. “How did you know?” Janice smiled. “’Tis impossible to hide good breeding. I’ll go now and fetch you something else to wear and some supper. I won’t be long.” “Thank you. I’d be very grateful to get out of these clothes.” After the courtesan left, Julienne tossed the wig into the coal bucket and sank into a chair, once again admiring the luxuriousness of her surroundings. Remington’s Gentleman’s Club was a pleasure den, a bastion of male comfort and iniquity. Hugh had steeped himself in the environment, surrounding himself with erotic novels and scandalous peep-show boxes, as well as a social circle made up entirely of debauched rakes. She’d been forced to study the enemy simply to know what she faced. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Julienne had to admit she was curious about carnal relations. She hated to be in the dark about anything, and Aunt Eugenia was no help at all, stuttering and stammering every time she was asked anything of a sexual nature. The books and contents of the boxes had answered many of Julienne’s questions, but in the process they had raised many more, and unfortunately they had told her nothing about how to remove Hugh from his path of self-destruction.

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  He snorted. In the last twenty-four hours, he’d wished he paid better attention to a lot of things. He’d always been a bit self-absorbed and rarely bothered with matters not directly pertaining to him or Julienne. Now suddenly he found himself concerned for a stranger. It was disconcerting, to say the least, and confusing. Behind him, in his bed, Charlotte slept on. He’d give her a few more minutes, and then he’d take her again. The need he felt astonished him. He’d been at her most of the morning, and still his cock was hard and throbbing to be inside her once more. Only when they were fucking did he feel even remotely like his normal dissolute self, albeit minus his usual control. Hugh couldn’t grasp why his brain refused to concentrate on the finer points of the sexual act with Charlotte. It was simply base, no finesse, all need and sweat and fierce desire. He’d been unable to pull out before spilling his seed—not once, but every damn time. It was intolerable, but he was unable to resist, assuring himself that one more encounter would sate his lust, one more spine-melting orgasm would appease his craving. “Hugh?” The soft sigh behind him made his heart race. It had taken a bit of . . . persuasion to convince her to use his given name. Hugh was inclined to think she’d initially been stubborn just to enjoy more of his fucking, a thought that filled him with masculine satisfaction. He turned and offered a smile. “Yes, sweet?” Charlotte’s eyes dropped to his erection, widened, and then lifted again to his. She licked her lips. Flushed and disheveled, sprawled out across the mess that was his bed, she was breathtakingly beautiful. “What are you doing?” “Studying your map.” He rested his hip against the escritoire and crossed his arms. “It’s unusual and cryptic.” She nodded. “There are some books and a journal that I’ve been using to decipher it.” “Where did you purchase these things?” “The elder Glenmoore gave them to me.” Hugh frowned. “Why?” She slid upward on the bed, propping herself against the pillows, caring nothing for modesty. And he was glad of that, for the sight of her creamy skin, firm breasts, and rosy nipples filled him with delight. He could gaze at her for hours, had in fact done that very thing this morning, counting her freckles and admiring her sleeping innocence. Then he’d cursed himself and the madness that had been plaguing him since he arrived. He’d donned his trousers and retrieved the map, determined to think of something other than Charlotte. “Glenmoore knew his son would give us nothing,” she said, with obvious bitterness. “His Grace grants us the use of this home only because it suits him to keep us under his thumb.” “Why not simply institutionalize the duchess?” Charlotte stiffened visibly. “She’s not mad.” She paused, and he said, “It would be best if you divulge everything without prodding.”

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  “I am not in my cups!” he growled. “But I am decidedly unwell. I’m coming undone. And damn it, the way you look at me tells me you feel the same. I’m not an honorable man, and I do not aspire to be one. I’ll take your innocence and walk away without looking back. You’ll be ruined, Julienne. I’ve been panting after you for weeks. Weeks.” He shoved away from the chair and began to pace. “I wish to God you had not come into my club.” Julienne gaped. From the moment she’d arrived in London at the start of the Season, her life had seemed to turn completely upside down. Her brother was missing, creditors hounded Montrose Hall, and Lucien Remington wanted to bed her. She couldn’t decide which event was most disturbing. Her skin grew hot and tight, her body achingly uncomfortable. “Aren’t you going to say something?” he snapped. “Shout at me. Call me a cad, or worse, if you have the coarse vocabulary to do so. Tell me to leave.” When she just stared at him, wide-eyed with incredulity, Lucien approached her and grabbed her by the shoulders. He shook her roughly. “Do something! Anything, damn it, to make me go.” His fingers kneaded restlessly against her skin, as if he couldn’t bear not to touch her. She stared mutely at the ferocious man who held her. His voice, his words, his countenance—never in her life had she seen such passion. To think she had inspired such a display shocked her to silence. And thrilled her. “Tell me to leave,” he repeated harshly. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.” “Go,” she said, her voice so soft it was less than a whisper. But it was enough. Lucien released her and walked away with angry strides. As the door closed behind him, Julienne felt an odd panic, as if once he left she would never see him again, which was partially true. She would never be allowed to speak to him, to touch him, since simply looking at him was a grave offense. Once he walked out that door, her time with him would be over. Forever. And she simply couldn’t bear it. “Lucien!” she cried in dismay, willing him to come back to her. Instantly, the door swung open, and he was in her arms. Chapter Three Julienne La Coeur smelled heavenly. Her skin was like the finest silk, her breasts full and generously swelled as they pressed against his chest. Lucien didn’t understand why she’d called him back, but he wasn’t about to ask for an explanation. “Sweet Julienne,” he murmured feverishly against her throat. “You should have allowed me to go.” Her small, delicate hands slipped inside his velvet coat and slid across the smooth satin back of his waistcoat. “I tried.” He rolled to the side and shrugged out of his coat, tossing the expensive garment carelessly to the floor. He turned back to her and then froze in place.

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  The sheet had slipped down to her waist, leaving her breasts exposed to his gaze. Firm and gently swaying from his near-frantic movements, they were more lovely than anything Lucien had seen in his life. “You are more beautiful than I imagined,” he breathed. He watched in amazement as her skin flushed right before his eyes, rosy color sweeping across her chest before rising to her cheeks. His gaze studied her face, and he saw that she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, meet his eyes. With his fingertips, he tilted the bottom of her chin upward, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Not with me.” As he searched her face, he wondered at his good fortune. Lady Julienne La Coeur. Julienne, so lovely, laying in one of his beds, bare from the waist up, her rich blonde hair spilling around her creamy shoulders, her dark eyes staring at him with such desire. He was so damn desperate to fuck her, he thought he would burst with it, but the small portion of his mind not presently between his legs wondered why the beautiful, socially esteemed diamond would be so eager to spread her legs for a bastard like him. With a muffled curse, Lucien leapt from the bed. He looked around wildly. “Is this a trap?” he bit out. “Is your brother hiding somewhere, waiting to jump out and catch me compromising you?” “Beg your pardon?” She looked genuinely confused. “What are you doing? Lying in bed naked? Giving yourself to me so easily?” A frown marred the smooth area between her brows. “I was sleeping,” she answered crossly. “I didn’t ask you to come in here. I didn’t even want to spend the night here. You insisted.” Julienne rubbed her forehead, pulling the sheet up once again to cover herself. “Get out,” she said coldly. His hands clenched into fists. “Leave, Mr. Remington. Before I take up your suggestion to scream.” He watched in amazement as she threw herself into the pillows and turned her back to him. It would damage her more than him to be caught, but why else would she offer herself? “This is fantastic,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. She gave a disdainful little grunt and punched the pillow. Lucien wandered around the room, looking behind the thick sapphire velvet drapes and dropping to his knees to look under the bed. Finding no one lurking in the room, Lucien strode to both doors and locked them. He shrugged out of his waistcoat. Julienne sat up again. “You’re mad if you believe I would allow you to touch me now!” Lucien yanked his shirt out of his trousers and drew it over his head. He smiled grimly when she gasped at the sight of his chest. He knew he was considered too muscled, the result of many hours spent engaged in fencing and pugilism. But the glimmer in her eyes wasn’t fear or revulsion. It was desire. “Why me?” he asked.

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  He placed one knee on the bed and then stretched out beside her, clenching his teeth as she rolled and pressed her breasts into his chest. She tilted back her head, offering up her lips, and he claimed them, his tongue sweeping into the sweet recesses of her mouth. Her response stunned him, her eagerness obvious, and he could hardly bear it. He shook with the effort to slow down, to be gentle, when the fire in his blood urged him to hurry. His hand caressed her shoulder and then moved down to her breast, finding her nipple as he ravished her mouth. He tugged gently with his fingers, loving how she melted against him, completely responsive and unreserved. Pulling her body to drape over his, Lucien caressed the curve of her derriere, kneading the firm flesh until she squirmed. “Please,” she gasped, pulling her lips from his. Her legs spread in silent invitation. Lucien buried his face in her throat to hide his smile. Julienne was so innocent and yet so wanton. So perfect. He slid his hands between her thighs, one finger finding the slick opening that betrayed her desire. He slid through the cream, testing her, before sliding just a tiny bit inside. She moaned and instinctively pressed her hips downward, away from the pressure and onto his erection. Lucien groaned along with her. This wouldn’t do. If she did that again, he wouldn’t have the presence of mind to keep from plunging his aching cock straight through her maidenhead. Julienne whimpered when he gripped her waist, pulling her higher over his body so that her breasts hung in his face and the crisp curls of her sex rested safely against his stomach. He held her slight weight easily above him, admiring the sight of her. Her eyes closed, she arched her back, presenting her breasts, while her golden hair drifted around her shoulders. Lucien was captivated. Lifting his head, he pressed a reverent kiss to a puckered nipple. Julienne’s soft cry encouraged him to go further. He teased her with licks of his tongue before suckling the taut peak into his mouth, intoxicated by the scent and taste of her skin. She arched into him, rubbing her sex along the muscled ridges of his stomach. She repeated the movement again. Then again. Julienne was riding herself against him, her nipple held firmly in his mouth, and he was on fire, every nerve ending vibrantly attuned to the woman he pleasured. “Please,” she begged. “I need . . . more . . .” He knew what she craved. To be filled with him, stretched by him, and ridden to orgasm with his cock stroking deeply inside her. But he would not do that. Could not. There was nothing about him that was honorable, but he’d make the effort. For her. “Patience, love,” he murmured, releasing her breast. “I will attend to you.”

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  She lifted hers to meet his, startling him. “It was nothing.” “It was wonderful. The way you handled James’s injuries and set his broken bone . . . I don’t know that I could have done it.” He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand and felt her shiver. “You might be surprised at the things you can accomplish when the need is dire enough.” “You sound as if you speak from experience.” “Perhaps.” Charlotte tilted her head and frowned, studying him with a far-too-perceptive gaze. “And you?” He shrugged. “I never seem to reach the dire point,” he confessed, attempting to make the words light but failing miserably. “I’m always rescued before it progresses that far.” Her grasp tightened, giving him a comforting squeeze. “I think you did well enough today, barging into the house and cornering Her Grace. There was no one to rescue you or your servants, yet you managed quite nicely on your own.” Hugh’s eyebrows rose. Charlotte touched his mouth where he was attempting to curb a smile and said softly, “I am a very good judge of character, my lord, but I misjudged you.” “Oh? In what way?” Her smile matched his. “I was very impressed with you today. Earlier, I wouldn’t have thought you’d need to hear that. But apparently you do.” And with just that simple statement, the sharp edge of Hugh’s desire honed to a burning point. Suddenly the cozy warmth of the stables was too hot, the air around them crackling with sensual energy. He’d never experienced anything like it, this itching, burning feeling coursing over his skin. That it was brought on by simple verbal praise astonished him. But, then, everything that had happened today astonished him. Charlotte recognized the change in the atmosphere. Her pupils widened, her mouth parted. Hugh stepped back a fraction, forcibly preventing himself from moving too fast and frightening her. She took a step forward, closing the distance he’d just created. Against his better judgment, Hugh tugged her nearer. When she came forward willingly, he reassessed her. Charlotte was comfortable with his touch and his bold approach. In fact, he would say her approach was just as bold, belying her innocent exterior. “Charlotte.” His free hand came up to brush across her cheek, finding her creamy skin as soft as he’d imagined it would be. “I believe you are the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.” “My lord—” “Hugh,” he corrected. He’d never been comfortable with his title, and at this moment it created a distinction between their classes of which he didn’t wish to be reminded. She leaned into his touch, her mouth curving in a wry smile. “I’m usually immune to charming rogues.” Hugh didn’t deny the obvious. Instead he ran his thumb across her lips. “Your mouth is beyond lovely. It’s simply perfect.”

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  Sebastian plucked at her erect nipples, tugging and twisting, before he lowered his mouth and licked the hard tips. “Look at me,” he ordered. Olivia forced herself to meet his gaze, warmed by the need that smoldered there. She licked her bottom lip nervously, and he groaned, his mouth swooping down to press against hers. His tongue thrust deep, hinting at what was to follow. One hand kneaded her breast, while the other grabbed her wrist and brought her hand to his cock. She gasped as the silken weight of him burned her palm. It was not what she’d expected, smoother and softer than the finest silk, yet hot and pulsing with life. She wondered how it would feel inside her. Would it burn her with heat? Stroke her with softness? Olivia shivered with anticipation. Regardless, she knew it would pleasure her. Everything about her husband pleasured her. Sebastian curled his fingers over hers and moved her hand up and down his length in a hard, fast rhythm that soon had him shaking against her. Once she had the way of it, he left her to pleasuring him and slipped his hand between her legs. He was everywhere at once—in her mouth, against her breast, in her hand, inside her sex. It was all too much, and yet it wasn’t. She wanted . . . “More,” she urged. He smiled against her mouth. “Siren. Found at sea, and luring me to matrimony.” Olivia pulled back, releasing his shaft. Another of his fingers slid upward into her heat, and she was trapped, impaled in place. “I’m not complaining,” he assured in a silky whisper. With an arm around her waist, Sebastian lifted her feet from the floor, his fingers still embedded within her as he carried her to the bed. He turned and lay down first, draping her across him, his arm trapped between them, his fingers still pumping into her. Her eyes slid closed on a moan as her body clenched around the welcome invasion. Desperate, she writhed over his hand. Her blood was thick as syrup and hot, making her sweat. Olivia dropped her head to his chest and felt his nipple brush her cheek. She turned slightly and sucked it into her mouth, as he had done to her. His breath hitched in his throat, his body hardening beneath hers. Reaching for his cock, she began stroking it again, hard and fast like he had shown her. She felt naughty and wanton, a wild woman in his arms. Her hips rocked against his hand, pushing him deeper. “No more,” he growled. Rolling her beneath him, Sebastian spread her stocking-clad legs with his own. He paused, the hairs on his chest scraping across her aching nipples. His fingers slipped out of her, and he spread the cream from them around her swollen opening. He moved higher, rubbing the slickness over her aching bud, making her squirm and beg beneath him. “Sebastian . . .”

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  “Sounds as if you had a bad dream,” she murmured, rolling up the map. “After what happened today—” “It wasn’t a dream, Charlotte.” She froze as Montrose rounded the desk and came up behind her. He smelled wonderful, an enticing scent of softly warmed cologne and aroused male. And there was no doubt he was aroused—the hard length of an impressive erection strained against the front of his trousers. She stood tense, expectant, waiting for him to make the first move. The earl blew out his taper and set it aside. His chest pressing into her back, he reached around for her hands and stilled their movements. “I’ve allowed you to be evasive, sweet, but now it’s time we discussed the answers to the obvious questions.” “I don’t know what you mean,” she breathed, her heart racing at his proximity. The heat of his skin burned through her robe. Unable to stop herself, she squirmed against him and felt the hard swell of his cock slide across her buttocks. He spread the map open, his breath hot and harsh in her ear. “Now where is the sharp wit I so admire?” Charlotte swallowed hard. He did admire her, and for more than her appearance. One of his large hands rested safely over hers on the map. The other, however, ventured away, cupping her shoulder before sliding down her back. She arched into his caress helplessly. “This is beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the heavy silk of her robe. “The green brings out the color of your eyes and sets off your hair.” “Montrose . . .” Her eyes slid closed. It had been so long since another person had touched her. Too long. “Hugh,” he corrected softly, his teeth grazing the side of her neck. Shivering, she caught her breath in an audible rush. Much taller than she was, he had no trouble looking over her shoulder. “What are you studying so intently?” “I-it’s nothing.” “Hmmm . . .” Hugh’s hand moved to her hip and kneaded the flesh gently. “It looks like a map of the West Indies to me.” Charlotte leaned heavily against the desk. “I look at it when I wish to bore myself to sleep.” His hand over hers lifted and came to rest on her stomach, pressing her back into his hard chest. His tongue, hot and moist, licked along the shell of her ear. “Are you having trouble sleeping, then?” Lord, she felt drugged, her mind working sluggishly to respond to his questions. The earl was a master seducer, she’d recognized that immediately. But to be the object of such skill was completely overwhelming. “Sometimes,” she admitted. His mouth nuzzled the sensitive skin of her neck, his erection burned into her lower back. “Explain the map to me.” She tried to remember why she didn’t want to answer his questions and failed. “I-it’s believed t-to lead to a treasure.”

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  His hips began to thrust rhythmically into her talented hands. Charlotte knew just how to hold him, how tightly to grip him, how fast to take him to the ecstasy only she could bestow. He began to pant, the heat of his lust washing over him, bringing him to the edge of reason. His cock swelled, his balls drew up, a tortured groan escaped as he prepared to come . . . Her movements stilled, and she stepped away just as he was on the verge of release. “Damn you.” He slammed his glass on the sideboard. Clenching his fists, he couldn’t stop the tremors that shook his frame. “Is your goal in life merely to torment me?” Charlotte stepped around to face him, her eyes shining like emeralds and burning with desire. “My aim is to comfort you, Hugh, to please and satisfy you, so that I may prove my love and win you back.” Her hands cupped the edge of the sideboard, and she jumped to sit upon it. Above the scoop of her bodice, the ripe swell of her breasts was flushed and covered with a spattering of reddish freckles he knew intimately, because he’d licked and worshipped every one. Gripping fistfuls of her skirt, she yanked the hem of her gown upward, the fevered haste of her movements betraying how desperately she desired him. The length of her lithe, stocking-clad legs was revealed to him first, and then she spread her thighs, displaying the deep red curls that sheltered the plump lips of her sex. Drawn to her, Hugh closed the distance between them, until her soft floral fragrance swirled through his senses with potent familiarity. Charlotte leaned back carefully until her shoulders rested against the wall, angling her hips to give him greater access. Watching his own movements with ravenous hunger and deep adoration, Hugh parted her lips with one hand while rubbing the tiny nub of her clit with the blunt fingertip of the other. She gasped, and arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him. Unable to resist, he bent and licked along her slender neck. “Yes . . .” she breathed. “I’ve hungered for the feel of your hands, the warmth of your mouth . . .” His skin was burning hot and covered with sweat. Hugh could barely think, could hardly breathe. Shifting his hips, he was there, the broad head of his cock covered in her cream. She was so ready, he slipped the first inch inside her without any effort. The tight clasp of her body welcomed him and was nearly the end of him. His breathing harsh and ragged, his fingers digging into her thighs with bruising force, he paused and locked his eyes with hers. And waited. Even though it was killing him. Charlotte’s hands moved to his shoulders and then around his neck, her calloused fingers entwining in the hair at his nape. “I belong to you, Hugh. In whatever way you’ll have me.”

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  The heavy weight of him moving so feverishly between her thighs renewed the ache within her. Wanting to experience the pleasure again, Olivia writhed beneath him, clawing at his back, as her body rushed for the precipice. She sobbed when the rapture hit her, and then Phoenix tensed, rock hard, against her. Burning dampness flooded across her stomach in pulsing jets. He cried out her name as he shuddered in her arms. [image file=image_rsrc3ZG.jpg] Sebastian buried his face in the fragrant curve of Olivia’s neck and damned himself for being a heartless cad. His control was a source of pride to him, but he’d had none of it today. From the moment he’d seen her on the deck of the Seawitch with her chin tilted defiantly and a far too heavy sword in her hand, he’d been captivated. As the day had progressed, he’d become more and more enamored with her. Her beauty alone was impossible to resist, but the fire, the passion . . . He could no more have resisted touching her than he could have chosen to stop breathing. She’d been trying to assist him, to tend to his wounds, as no one ever had. And he’d repaid her by staring lustily at her exposed breasts and stripping her of his shirt when she’d wished to cover herself. Olivia had been willing, eager, but he should have walked away for her own good. He could never be the husband she deserved. Despite this, he’d spread her out, a feast for a starving man, and debased her with his ravenous touch. And damned if he didn’t want to do it again. Immediately. Sebastian rose onto his elbows and gazed down at Olivia’s beautiful face, flushed with his passion. He almost inquired if she was well, but the dazed look in her eyes answered the unspoken question. His expression most likely mirrored hers. Placing a swift, hard kiss against her parted lips, he untangled his limbs from hers. Olivia was all heat and desire, a fiercely passionate woman who, even in her innocence, had pleasured him almost beyond bearing. Untried and unschooled, she hadn’t the guile to hide her response or to play any games. He’d felt wanted, needed, in a way no one had ever made him feel before. Staring at her taut belly, shiny with his seed, Sebastian was swept with an overwhelming wave of possessiveness. He wanted to mark her like this everywhere, brand her completely, so that no other man would ever touch her. Her drowsy eyes followed him with such warmth it took his breath away. The way she looked at him, her palpable panic when he’d slipped on the rigging—how long had it been since anyone had cared for his welfare? So long ago he could scarcely remember it. Only his gratefulness for her tender regard had prevented her complete ruination.

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  He’d been watching her all evening. She bore his mark, although only he knew it. There was a new knowledge in her dark eyes, a subtle swing to her hips, a deeper color to her lips, that said she’d experienced passion. Julienne had always been alluring, but now . . . now he could hardly restrain himself from sweeping her into his arms, carrying her away, and fucking her until neither one of them could move. He’d heard her defend his honor to Fontaine when they passed by him, and her obvious irritation with the marquess had touched him as few things in his life ever had. Lucien knew he was too bold and aggressive to be accepted in the upper tier of Society, but he was too rich to mingle anywhere else. Men envied his business acumen and enjoyed the comforts of membership in his club. Women liked him for his pretty face and sexual appetite. Somehow between the two genders he was invited everywhere, but fit in nowhere. Except for those all-too-brief hours he’d spent with Julienne. He’d fit then. Perfectly. Lucien had followed her out to the garden, wanting desperately to claim her, and instead had watched her kiss Fontaine. And now she sat dreamy-eyed on the bench, while acidic jealousy ate at him. “Yes,” she admitted. “I kissed him.” “Why?” He had no right to ask, but he was unable to stop himself. She smiled—the same sweet, open smile that said she saw things in him worth seeing. “I wanted to know if it would feel the same as when you kissed me.” He wasn’t certain what he had expected her to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. Satisfaction filled him. She’d been thinking of him, even while kissing another man. His fists unclenched. “And did it?” She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. It’s been a sennight since you kissed me. My memory may be faulty.” He reached for her hand and pulled her into the shadows. Staring down at her upturned face, his heart ached at her beauty and the trust she gave him so readily. His voice was husky when he whispered, “Allow me to remind you.” Lowering his head, Lucien kissed her deeply, making no attempt to hide his desire, determined to erase from her memory any thought of another man’s lips on hers. Only a week since he’d held her, yet it seemed like an eternity. Julienne returned his kiss with similar passion, her hands slipping inside his jacket and caressing his back. Her tongue brushed across his, and he tasted her sweetness. Nothing in the world quenched his thirst like the taste of her mouth. “Did it feel like this when he kissed you?” he asked. She moaned. “Dear God, no.” He thrust his thigh between her legs and lifted her against it. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, her lips wet and swollen from his kiss. Only a kiss, and she was melting in his arms.

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  “Who cares about proper? We’ve never done anything properly.” Hugh glanced again at the mirror, adjusting his cravat for the hundredth time, before resuming his pacing. What the devil was taking Charlotte so blasted long? He’d give her a few moments more, then he’d track her down. Who knew what had happened to her in this museum of oddities? Why, he shuddered just thinking about it! It was abominable for such a gorgeous creature to be rusticating out here, in the wilds of Derbyshire. It was a travesty he intended to rectify as soon as the cursed weather cooperated. When the long-awaited knock finally came, he threw open the portal with such haste that Charlotte stumbled backward in surprise. He was equally astonished. Dressed in a crimson silk gown of stunning simplicity, she stole his breath and his wits. With off-the-shoulder sleeves, low-cut bodice, and high waist, the dress featured no adornments of any kind. Charlotte herself wore no jewelry or gloves, and her coppery hair was piled atop her head in riotous curls. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and the scent of her, fresh and flowery, was an arousing counterpoint to the seductive look of her. It took all of the self-control Hugh possessed to keep from grabbing her and ravishing her upon his bed. Charlotte appealed to him on so many levels, he found it hard to collect them all. He watched, mesmerized, as her mouth curved in a knowing smile. She was thoroughly aware of the effect the sight of her would have on any man. “Shall we go to supper?” she asked. “Must we?” Her green eyes glowed with warm amusement. “I’m rather starved myself.” So was Hugh, but not for food. However, the thought of her company while eating his meal was somewhat pacifying. He stepped out of his room and offered his arm. The light touch of her bare fingers burned through his coat and shirt to his skin below, making him ache for her. Charlotte was tiny, the top of her head barely reached his shoulder, and from his high vantage, Hugh had an excellent view of the ripe swell of her breasts. He looked away, staring resolutely down the gallery. Unlike the demimondaines with whom he usually associated, it felt wrong to ogle Charlotte as if she were worth nothing more than a good tumble. She was intelligent and kind, as evidenced by her steadfastness in the face of today’s events. Fact was, he rather liked her, what little he knew of her, and since he had a few days to fill, he determined to discover as much about her as he could in that time. As they moved from one hallway to another and prepared to descend the main staircase, Hugh felt as if he were moving through time. The brightly lit and beautifully furnished part of the house faded into the dust-covered and rotting section as easily as they turned the corner.

• From Scandalous Liaisons (2007)

  Alistair walked over to the stool with as much aplomb as he could muster with a raging cockstand. He collected the bottle, then drank straight from it. There was little remaining. And as excellent a vintage as it was, it failed to dull the sharp edge of his hunger, which was aggravated by his new vantage—he could see every inch of the front side of her. Her head tilted back, and she looked up at him with slumberous eyes. “You are notably comfortable witnessing a lady’s toilette.” “You are notably comfortable being witnessed.” “Do you do this sort of thing often?” Discussing past lovers was never wise. He certainly was not going to begin now. “Do you?” “This is a first for me.” “I’m honored.” He moved to one of the chairs at the table and wondered how best to proceed. The territory was unfamiliar to him. Yesterday, he’d pushed too far too soon. He could not afford to make a similar mistake today, and yet he was presented with a naked, inebriated, uninhibited woman he had been lusting after for years. Even a saint would be sorely pressed for restraint, and God knew he was far from saintly. As Alistair sat, he noted the case of claret by the foot of the bed. The quantity spoke of a woman who occasionally sought oblivion. It troubled him to think she’d been so attached to Tarley. How could he compete with a specter? Especially one who had so perfectly suited her in ways Alistair never could. “Are you preparing to join us for supper?” he asked in as casual a tone as he could manage. “I shan’t be joining you.” Jessica leaned her head back against the rim and closed her eyes. “And you should not be joining me in my cabin, Mr. Caulfield.” “Alistair,” he corrected. “So ask me to leave. Although you should have someone here to assist you. Since your maid has been dismissed for the evening, I would be happy to make the substitution.” “You learned of my solitude and pounced straightaway. You are so reckless and impetuous and—” “—apologetic about the upset you experienced yesterday.” She sighed. He waited for her to explain. Instead she said, “My reputation is very important to me.” Although it wasn’t said, he understood the implication that it was not a concern they shared. “Your good name is important to me, as well.” One gray eye opened. “Why?” “Because it matters to you.” That lone, assessing eye might have been disconcerting if he hadn’t been determined to be completely honest with her. With a nod, the eye closed again. “I enjoy the feel of your gaze on me,” she said with surprising candor. “That enjoyment is quite distressing.” He hid a smile behind the rim of the bottle. She was an honest drunk. “I enjoy looking at you. I always have. I doubt I could change that. You are not alone in this attraction between us.”