Lady Varney's Risqué Business Read Online Free PDF Page A

then, Lady Varney, allow me.”
    He sank his fingers up into her hair and flowed nearer. His nose slid along hers, his mouth brushed hers. His arms came around her, and he ravished her lips.
    She gasped and clutched him closer. His body was iron and heat and heaven. His tongue opened her lips, touched inside, sank deeply and drank her into him.
    “God! Justin!” She broke for air.
    His mouth, wet and fierce, trailed down her jaw to her throat. With his teeth, he opened her wrapper wider, slid her negligee lower and suddenly, his lips were on her nipple. Sucking her inside the cavern of his mouth, he drew on her with such ferocity she groaned. One arm held her at the waist, supporting her as he bent her back over his arm, opening her to him. One hand skimmed her other breast and slid along her torso, her belly, to her mons and beneath the silken robe, he delved and cupped her mound.
    “Christ, my darling, you are bare.” He sank a finger between her sleek, pulsing labia. He stroked her, the sound of her juices, her readiness for him, a sweet beckon to his seduction. He bent and caught her up in his arms, then strode through the copse.
    She wrapped her arms around his neck and wanted to shriek in delight. She was his. Would be soon.
    He strode through the copse avoiding branches with speed and dexterity. If in her heated mind she thought she smelled roses, she took it as a sign of her freedom from anxiety. This tryst, despite its forbidden flavor, held for her the fragrance of release from so many of her past torments.
    In a clearing, she spied his cottage. Candles blazed inside. He had planned this. Just as he had planned so carefully for their first encounter, he had prepared well for this.
    He pushed the door ajar and stepped into the tiny house. The fireplace was aglow, the candles’ flames low. The aroma of roses seductive. He let her slide to the floor and turned her to him, his fingers twined in her close-cropped curls. “What do you think of it?”
    She stood on tiptoe and reached up to peck him sweetly on the lips. Somehow, someway, he had destroyed her fear of this and summoned from deep within her an enjoyment of the moment. This. And him. “You have done very well. This is our nest for the next day, I presume?”
    “You are correct.” He beamed, proud of himself.
    Her eyes went wide, teasing him. “What of our clothes?”
    His hazel eyes narrowed. “We need none.”
    “Your hair brush? Mine?” she teased.
    He planted his lips in her curls. “I have a new one here for you.”
    “A bath?”
    His mouth descended to her cheekbone, her collarbone, the tip of one begging breast. “I am at your service as your manservant, my lady.”
    She would have giggled, but he sank to his knees, kissing his way from her navel to her pelvic bone. When she had wits enough about her to form a few words, she could merely whisper, “Perfume? I like perfume.”
    “And I,” he ground out as his mouth found her smoothly polished cunny and his tongue slipped inside her seam, “love yours, my darling Puss.”
    He knew her secret name. What else? What else? But her mind blanked as he probed inside her with a demanding tongue. He stroked her swelling labia. Licked her. Flicked his tongue at the entrance to her cunny and then, with two deft fingers, spread her lips apart.
    “Sweet Puss, open wider. I am suddenly ravenous.”
    “Oh, yes,” she murmured, grabbing his shoulders to steady herself. “So am I.”
    At her invitation, he darted his tongue inside and somehow found an absolutely wonderful spot to suck and tickle.
    She felt mindless. Boneless. “You will undo me with this, Justin.”
    “No, my sweet.” He paused, looked up at her, met her gaze and grinned, then sent two probing fingers deep inside her cunt. “I am eating you. And loving every morsel.”
    “I had no idea a man would want such—”
    “A treat?” His face was alight with ribald joy. “I will have you this way every hour.”
    Her knees shook at