Pleasure and Purpose Read Online Free PDF Page A

restraints allowed. Edward gave himself up to the desire. He slid two fingers into her slick channel, his thumb rubbing her clit with every stroke. Breathing hard, his prick as hard as the ironwood bar to which she was bound, Edward stroked her to climax while Cillian brought the flogger down again and again on her skin. The woman sagged, muscles leaping and jerking as she came.
    "The way we used to." Cillian's voice had gone hoarse with his exertions. "Do you remember?"
    "I remember."
    "You. Me." Cillian's lash came down again, and the woman cried out, hips leaping forward against Edward's hand. "We rutted our way through every whore who'd have us .
    . . and they all would have us, aye?"
    Edward didn't look at Cillian. His gaze stayed fixed upon the woman. Cillian struck her again, and she writhed. Cillian let the tails of his flogger trail over her back, then leaned forward to blow a breath along the welts.
    "Do you want to know what they tried to tell me when I was in the asylum?" Cillian moved closer to the woman, his voice soft as he caressed her hair. "A good man's cock didn't get stiff at the sight of dainty wrists bound with leather cord, or the sweetness of curving buttocks marked with the shape of his palm."
    Edward's prick was still stiff, but now his throat went dry. Cillian moved his hand over the girl's skin, and before Edward could pull away, the prince had reached forward and grabbed his wrists, moving Edward's fingers over the pattern of welts while the girl moaned.
    "You remember what it was like to do this." Cillian's whisper floated like spidersilk in the lust-scented air between them. His fingers guided Edward's over the girl's skin, so deliciously hot. Over her hip, the unmarked smoothness of her ass, lower to stroke her thighs. "Where is the Edward I knew? The one who made the cunnas beg him to tie them? Why have you abandoned me, my dear one?"
    Cillian lifted Edward's hand from the girl's warm skin and pressed the sweat-slick handle of the flogger into it.
    "This time," he said, "you flog her while I make her come." Edward jerked his hand away so fast the flogger fell at his feet, and he stepped away like it was a snake poised to bite.
    "You go too far, Cillian." The words hurt his throat and sounded strangled, not detached as he'd meant them to.
    Cillian's eyes flashed as he bent to retrieve the flogger. "You of all people, my dear one, should understand how I would know when to stop. I know how far to go. It's you who—"
    "Good day, my prince." Edward cut off Cillian with an exaggeratedly polite half bow.
    Cillian turned back to his pet. "Do you believe what they told me? About what good men don't do?"
    Edward paused at the door. "Yes."
    Cillian's laugh was harsh. "And what of lying, Edward? Do good men do that?" To that, Edward had no answer. As he left, he heard the smack of leather on flesh, and the girl cried out again. He didn't look back.
    Nessa had spent the day making Edward's quarters as soothing as possible, an easy enough task as he'd furnished them already with taste and comfort. She'd added little, straightened and dusted much, then contented herself with reading one of his books while she awaited his arrival.
    At the sight of him tearing up the lane, his horse galloping full-out, Nessa tucked away the book. The kettle was warm and would need no more than a few moments on the fire to boil, but judging from the way her patron strode out of the stable and toward the house, he'd need something stronger than tea.
    She had the whiskey poured and waiting in the crystal glass when he slammed into the room. The door opened so hard it struck the wall before bouncing back, and a book fell from the overcrowded shelves. Edward strode into the room, his dark hair disheveled and clothes askew.
    Nessa held out the glass to him without speaking, and whatever he'd been about to say cut off without more than the smallest noise. He took the glass and tossed back the contents, grimacing at the sting. His