RulingPassion Read Online Free PDF

her inner thigh, the
pleasure grew into a demanding tension. She needed, wanted something without
knowing exactly what it was.
    One thing she did know she wanted: the feel of his skin. She
had to work her hands down and under the shirt he wore, then let them travel
upwards to revel in the feel of his hair-roughened chest. Solid muscles
responded with gentle quivers to her exploration. He jumped and exclaimed when
her fingers brushed over one of his nipples.
    He stood up abruptly, turned, and lowered her gently to the
bed, setting her on her side. Before he lay down next to her, he pulled tunic
and shirt over his head. She sucked in a hard breath at the sight of his fine,
broad shoulders and the strong, elegant muscles of his chest.
    “Roll over on your stomach,” he said.
    She hesitated for a second, then did as he asked. His hands
were gentle on her back, rubbing just hard enough to relax her, kneading the
skin. When they moved down over her sore, welted buttocks, his fingers gentled
more and caressed just enough to relieve some of the remaining ache.
    “Am I bleeding?” she asked.
    “Nay, lady,” he said, “Though you’ll have some mild
bruises.”
    “I’m amazed. It felt as though the rod cut me to ribbons.”
    “It feels that way,” he agreed. “But it’s not the case.”
    His hands slid lower, brushing down along the backs of her
thighs and coming up inside them. She gasped and tensed as his fingers left
trails of fire along the super-sensitive skin. When they approached the apex of
the triangle, they stilled for a moment, then one finger hesitantly brushed her
mound.
    She squealed as the touch went through her like a charge of
energy, leaving her jerking and quivering. He continued stroking the insides of
her thighs, his fingers occasionally straying to the magic area where each
contact was a revelation of new pleasure. A tension of need and wanting was
building within her.
    Something cool and a little damp touched her derriere at one
of the sore spots. His lips stroked over the welt and then his tongue ran along
it. The touch rasped, but the icy burn of it made her suck in air so hard she
could only breathe in sharp pants.
    “My lord!” she gasped, a little shocked, entirely grateful.
    He licked along each line of fire the birch had raised,
soothing the pain, building her need and yearning until she was sure she
couldn’t contain it much longer.
    “Can you roll over?” he asked.
    She nodded. Her sore bottom protested the contact with the
bed linen for a moment then subsided. Oddly, the remaining sting actually fed
the yearning tension and seemed to magnify the pleasure of each touch of his
hand on her skin.
    Lying on her back had the added benefit of letting her see
him as he paid homage to her body. Watching the pleasure light his face, it
suddenly struck her what an enormous change had happened in her life in the
space of twenty-four hours. At the same time the previous day she’d been languishing
in Sir William’s dungeon, wondering if she would eventually accede to his
demand. Now here she was, freely offering her body to a man she’d barely known
existed before he took her out of the cell.
    Though she did so in payment of her debt to him, she
nonetheless found it hard to resist the appeal of him. The attractive exterior
drew her, but she admired also his honor, kindness, fairness, and sense of
humor. This might be the most right and possibly the most perfect thing she’d
ever experienced.
    Tomorrow she’d have to consider her future, and without
question this night would have a huge influence on it, probably in a negative
way. She’d be a used woman, ruined in the eyes of many. But she’d also have
known a pleasure she’d never guessed could exist, at the hands of a man unlike
any she’d ever known. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t regret this night’s work,
couldn’t regret what she’d learned.
    He stood upright by the side of the bed, and she ran her
eyes up and down his body while