House of Dark Delights Read Online Free PDF Page B

from Heather, Elic realized she wasn’t dozing, as he’d thought. Her submerged right hand, which rested in her lap, was moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Elic stripped off his jeans and stepped down into the pool—cautiously, so as not to betray his presence by disturbing the water. Lust quivered up his legs, settling hot and insistent in his loins; the water would have contained a lingering sensual charge from this afternoon even before Heather stepped into it, thus kindling her own sexual heat.
    He grew fully erect within a matter of seconds, his cache of
zeru
only fueling his lust. Standing in the water about two yards from Heather, Elic stroked himself in time with her own caress, very lightly, just the fingertips playing up and down the shaft as he gritted his teeth to keep himself in check. It wouldn’t do to go off in his hand, thus squandering all that precious seed, but he’d learned that it paid to be as primed as possible. The greater the discharge of seed, the more likely the
arkhutu
was to get pregnant. The position in which he took her was important, too, conception being likeliest if she was on her back, although he sometimes made them lie on their sides, or kneel facedown. And, too, it was imperative that he coax her into the most powerful orgasm possible, the contractions of which would force her cervix into contact with the ejaculate.
    If Lili were with him now, she might milk Elic’s seed, as he had milked Larsson’s, while he pumped away with measured strokes inside this
arkhutu,
trying to make it last, to make the pleasure mount and mount until he was wild with it. Lili sometimes did that for him, amid soft kisses and intimate whispers, often with a little curved steel rod she’d had forged for that purpose by the royal swordsmith to Louis XVI.
    Tonight, however, Lili was just a distant, if not quite disinterested, observer.
    Elic grasped the head of his cock to squeeze out a few thick drops of pre-come, which he rubbed over the aching instrument to facilitate penetration.
Now.
    He crossed to Heather in two strides; by the time she opened her eyes, he was upon her. She drew in a breath to scream. He clamped a hand over her mouth and willed her hearing to return.
    â€œIt’s me—Elic,” he said, but she was already kicking and struggling. She rammed a fist into his nose, sparking a bolt of pain that had Elic swearing harshly even as he thought,
Good girl.
    He tried to pin her into the corner of the pool, but she thrashed and fought like a wild thing, and she was surprisingly strong. She bit his hand to get it off her mouth, but as she was filling her lungs, he clamped a hand to her forehead and said, “
Láta…liggja…
Shh, Heather. Easy. Easy.”
    She quieted, her breath coming rapidly as she stared at him. He felt the tension ease from her muscles as her mind and body surrendered to his desire, his aching need—always a heady moment, filled with the promise of exquisite pleasures to come. Her eyes glittered darkly as she held his gaze; her legs fell open. Elic knelt on the floor of the pool and slid his cock up and down the cleft of her sex, feeling the heat and dampness of her arousal even underwater.
    Closing his hands over her breasts, he whispered against her lips, “You’re about to have the most extraordinary dream.”



One
    May 1749
    D ARIUS, CURLED up in his little box of straw in the gatehouse, awoke to Frederic, the guard on duty, barking out,
“Halte! Qui va là?”
    â€œIt’s Mrs. Hayes with the virgins,” responded a woman in English. “Sir Francis is expecting us.”
    Darius rose, quivering as he stretched the kinks out of his back, and leapt from his box. A lady stood silhouetted against the setting sun on the other side of the portcullis barring the arched entryway. She was plump and matronly, her steely hair mostly hidden beneath the hood of a long red cloak.
    â€œWhat is the