A Gentlewoman's Ravishment Read Online Free PDF Page A

in this strange, sensual environment.
    We turn a corner and I sense fate looming ahead.
    “Now, come along, don’t keep him waiting.” She chivvies me along, then opens a door, pushing me through, with a warm hand on my back that sweeps downward, cupping my bottom before propelling me forward. “Be a good girl, Mrs. Enderby, and do as he bids you… Good luck!”
    Another push, and I’m inside the room and the door’s closed again behind me. The scent in here is delicious as the last room, but there’s a different note, a sharper tang. Something fine and familiar…citrus, perhaps? Bergamot, or something a little green, all blended with sweet exotic spices.
    What do I do? I sense I’m not alone, and my heart beats a tattoo in my bosom. The wash of scrutiny across my skin is like the sunshine in the corridor, heating me, caressing me.
    There’s a man here. My ravisher from the carriage. I can’t see him, but I know he’s just feet away from me. Boldly, I reach up and unfasten the knot of my blindfold, then I snatch it from around my head and fling it away.
    He’s reclining on another daybed. A much wider, more opulent one, piled high with velvet, silk and satin cushions in deep, rich hues. His naked chest gleams like honeyed cream in the light of half a dozen lamps. He’s wearing loose, heavy silk trousers, in form not unlike the ones the boys were wearing, and a brocade robe in peacock blue, open at the front.
    He’s also wearing a mask. It’s one of those black satin domino affairs, such as might be chosen for a harlequinade, tied at the back of his head with a thin, leather thong. His hair is short, dark and crisp, and gleams with pomade. Within their black frame his eyes gleam too. A deep dark blue, like a midnight ocean, glittering yet mysterious.
    Reaching out to me, he compels me forward with an imperious gesture.
    I could run. I should run. I should get myself away from here as fast as I can, snatch up that embroidered shawl thrown across the chest at the foot of the bed, and run out into the street and hail a cab. The door isn’t locked, I’m sure, and some kindly cabbie will take pity on me and trust my promise of payment when I get home to my residence.
    But I can only move toward the bed. My mind knows I’m being a little fool, but my body is primed and lusty, yearning for his touch, and for the pleasure he gave me a little while ago, and which he can easily give me again. It seems to me as if my husband is ten thousand miles away at this moment, perhaps in another world. In this realm, only my masked abductor has real sway over me.
    I hesitate by the side of the bed, and those dark, indigo eyes sweep over me, heating my breasts and my belly with their scrutiny. I feel full of seismic energy, too much to contain. I shift from foot to foot, aware of my silky wetness welling and flowing between my thighs. A little trail of it seeps down, trickling over my skin, heading for my knee. His sharp gaze follows its track, and his mouth curves in a small, contained smile.
    He knows my desire for him.
    A hand shoots out, grabs me, pulls me onto the bed. It’s not quite the brawny mitt of a buccaneer, in fact his hands are well kept and fine, but there’s an implacable strength in his grip I could never fight. He hauls me naked onto the bed and pushes me back against the pillows. Almost immediately, he’s half on top of me, subduing me with his weight and his mouth, and with his cock that’s hard as a poker inside his silken pantaloons.
    He rocks against me, raiding my mouth as he did in the carriage. I’m in no doubt that it was he who snatched me. His shaving lotion is most particular and instantly recognizable.
    Instead of fighting him, I revel in the fact that my hands are free this time, clutching at his back and his buttocks through his exotic finery. The muscles beneath the silk are hard and toned, working as he slides his body against me.
    My blood is on fire. Desire catapults around me, bouncing