Legendary Lover Read Online Free PDF

"No," he softly drawled, "definitely not little."
    There was a conspicuous silence, while both struggled with their principles and lust, neither sure they were actually talking about rutting as though they were negotiating for a leasehold . But the marquis was less familiar with delaying satisfaction—the lady's year-long celibacy a case in point—so he cast aside principle first and said, "So, then ... do we agree?"
    "On a condom?"
    "On that."
    She nodded. He tipped his head and swiftly rose from the sofa.
    "Wait here," he said, reaching for his trousers.
    "You'll need these." She picked up his silk drawers from the floor.
    "I won't be gone that long."
    She took a deep breath. "Maybe I won't want to go through with this by the time you come back."
    He glanced at her sideways, swiftly buttoning his trousers. "I'll change your mind."
    "I don't know . . ."
    He was beside her before her words died away, and lifting her arms before she could protest, he slid her chemise off, swept her up into his arms and, walking to the couch in front of the fire, placed her on the cushions.
    "Now think of me fucking you here," he murmured, slipping his fingers inside her heated dampness, "a dozen times. And then after that," he whispered, bending his head to lick her nipple, "I'll fuck you a dozen times more . . ." He stroked her sleek tissue delicately, deftly, with infinite skill and patience, and before long, Venus had forgotten her uncertainties, all her doubts dissolving in the heat of her arousal. He left her just short of orgasm, easing away from her heated embrace with whispered promises of satisfaction once he returned. "Lock the door behind me," he whispered. "I'll knock twice." And he dressed with such speed, she didn't know if she should be charmed or offended by his expertise in leaving.
    But ultimately she wanted what he could give her, and disregarding his reputation and past, she sensibly decided there was time enough to take offense after her climax. Her smile elicited a brief query from the marquis ,, but she only said, "Hurry back and I'll tell you." Locking the door behind him, she poured herself a glass of sherry from a tray of liquors, returned to the warmth of the fire and, lying on the sofa, sipped on her drink while she waited for her sexual salvation.
    She wasn't a novice to amorous pleasure. She'd had lovers, but none who brought her to this frenzied heat.
    And if she was in a speculative mood—which she wasn't at the moment, physical pleasure of more import—she might have questioned the reasons for the marquis's significant appeal. Other than the obvious. She smiled faintly. While women always politely said size didn't matter when talking of their lover's prowess, size did matter, of course. And in that regard, Jack Fitz-James couldn't be faulted.
     
     
    Chapter 3
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    AT A HALL MIRROR, THE MARQUIS CHECKED
    the degree of disarray in his appearance before entering the ballroom, decided he was presentable if not too closely inspected, and entered through one of the lesser-used doorways. Moving around the perimeter of the dance floor, he avoided conversation with cool politeness, his focus the card room in the adjoining chamber. Once he'd passed through the gauntlet of female attention, he allowed himself a small sigh and, standing on the threshold of the card room, surveyed the paneled interior looking for the likeliest prospects.
    Most of the men of his class were relatively unconcerned with other than their personal pleasure in making love. Their position and wealth allowed them that prerogative and most took full advantage of it. But he knew one or two peers who were concerned with protection for reasons of health, and he searched them out in the busy room.
    There was no manner in which this could handled discreetly. He knew his peers too well; gossip was the lifeblood of the ton. His only hope, he decided, was that Miss Duras was unconventional enough to ignore