Her Lord's Table Read Online Free PDF Page B

would secure her a position, even if only as a scullery maid.
    There would be no more delight in her life, no luxury at all—born a gentlewoman but forced to become a servant. Since nothing would induce her to follow a life of prostitution, only tonight could she experience what happened between a man and a woman. The only chance she would have.
    “Teach me,” she whispered. “Teach me all you know.”
    He laughed. “That would take a very long time.” He cupped her breasts, weighing them. “But there’s no reason not to start.”
    He leaned back and plucked a sliver of chicken from one of the plates, holding it above her mouth. “Open.”
    She parted her lips willingly. He lowered the morsel, without letting go. “Now close your lips,” he directed. “Let the form and taste fill your mouth. Explore it with your tongue.”
    She followed his every order. The simple act of eating became erotic.
    “Now swallow.”
    Again she obeyed. His face softened with approval. “Good girl.”
    He took her hand and carried it to the front of his satin breeches. “I think you are ready to learn to apply the lesson to something—more satisfying.”
    Her eyes widened as she realized what he intended her to do. Her surprise lasted only a moment. Excitement flooded in to take its place. Why shouldn’t she do it? Had he not just driven her to ecstasy by taking her with his mouth? She wanted to see if she could give him the same pleasure. A sensualist like Anthony, Lord Winslade, would not do anything from which he failed to derive enjoyment.
    “You want me to touch your…” The paucity of her experience failed her. She had no words for the action she contemplated.
    “My cock,” he supplied. With a quick manipulation of his wrist, his pants opened and the thing he spoke of fell into her hand, hard but soft at the same time, warm and throbbing with a life beat of its own. He closed her fingers around it. He leaned back, spreading his legs wide apart.
    Then he slid his hands beneath her, cupping her bottom, encouraging her to move off the edge of the sofa. “Kneel.”
    For a moment she failed to understand, but she obeyed the pressure he exerted and dropped to her knees on the floor. She turned to face him, his thighs still clad in his evening clothes clasped on either side of her, his cock still held loosely in her hand. She looked down at the thick, rigid shaft, the round head divided by a crease with a small slit in the center. From the slit, a bead of moisture welled up, reflecting the flickering light of the candles.
    “Open,” he said, as he had when he had offered her the food. He cupped the back of her head and drew her forward. “Now close your lips.”
    Again his words were an exact echo of his previous instruction. Again she obeyed. But this was not some tiny sample of an everyday meal. This was an experience unlike any she had ever imagined. The soft skin lured her tongue and she wrapped it around the head. Her lips closed on the rigid shaft. Without conscious volition, her tongue slid across the slit at the top, scooping up the droplet of his juices. The sweet, salty taste intrigued her. She closed her fist tighter, holding him steady so she could lap up more. Above her he stiffened and groaned. The sound made the place between her legs clench.
    She looked up at him, although she didn’t release the pressure of her mouth. His cheeks were flushed, his teeth clamped onto his bottom lip, his eyelids almost completely lowered. She had discovered a power she hadn’t known she possessed. By letting Anthony control her, by doing everything he instructed, she found freedom. For this one night, she rejected the restraints of her upbringing, longing to be free to learn things she would never experience again.
    Anthony’s fingers curled into her hair, thumbs pushing against her jaw. He pulled her head back, releasing himself with a wet pop. She frowned. Why had he stopped her? Had she failed, in her ignorance, to please