Silent Surrender Read Online Free PDF

though Jude was horrified at the crude talk, Honoria could not help her own laughter. She wiped tears of mirth from her cheeks, her face and stomach aching from the ridiculous picture Esau’s words had painted.
    Then, from the corner of her eye, she caught Jude signing. “He. You want man like this?” Jude’s stern expression and pointed question took all the joy out of her. She felt suddenly foolish, like a naughty child who’d expected to tell a convincing lie, only to be caught out by someone more clever. She pushed her plate back and made to stand, but Esau rose before she did and pulled out her chair for her. He caught her wrist and drew her close to him, mouthing one word for her, and for her alone. “Bedroom.”
    It seemed almost too easy to follow him out, giggling and blushing, leaving Jude alone in the dining room. No doubt a lecture would await her in the morning, but she couldn’t force herself to care about that when Esau held her hand and led her through the house and up the stairs. She was breathless and excited by the time they reached her door, and he pushed her against the wall beside it, trapping her with his arms on either side of her.
    She thought he would kiss her, but his gray eyes scanned over her face, eyebrows knit together with regret. “You can speak, you know? To me. I won’t mock you.”
    The breath she took was more dagger than air, piercing her chest with a tenderness so keen she wondered if she would ever breathe again. She couldn’t remember an instance where anyone had apologized, truly apologized to her for the way they had treated her. They might have said sorry, and Esau had not, but none of them had shown such sweet earnestness. She rose on her toes and kissed him, and he pulled her away from the wall, into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.
    It had occurred to her that she could have him again that night. She hadn’t worked out the delicacies of asking him. It seemed strange, to feel more shy with him now than she had before they’d made love. Before she’d had to ask him, he’d volunteered. Did that mean he’d enjoyed her so much that afternoon that he’d looked forward to being with her again?
    She opened her mouth, the words frozen in her throat. His hands cradled her buttocks and he lifted her, smiling and saying, “Up you go.” He pushed her dress around her thighs, the long skirt and layers of stiff petticoats trapped between them as she wound her legs around his back. His hands slipped, and he nearly dropped her before he could deposit her on the bed.
    Motioning frantically through her giggles, she tried to convince him to pull the rope and bring her maid, but he shook his head, trapping one of her ankles in his big hand. He made surprisingly quick work of her shoes, then swept those rough, square hands over her calves, behind her knees, up to untie the ribbons of her garters. He took great care rolling the silk down her leg, until she no longer laughed, but trembled. When he cupped her heel in his hand and bent his head to suck her toe into his mouth, she positively quivered.
    When she had selected him for this task, it had been expressly for this reason. His dark glare had hinted at this type of depravity, but she’d been certain he would display more roughness. She longed to be taken, thrown and held down by the sheer physical power of him. Of course, she’d feared that desire the first time, and he’d been so gentle, as if he’d known that was what she’d needed.
    She didn’t need it any longer. His tongue swirled over the pad of her toe and she twisted on the bed, almost losing her resolve to sheer pleasure for just a moment. She wrenched her foot from his grasp, clambering to her knees to grip the front of his shirt. He looked down at her in a moment of confusion, and she ripped the shirt open, buttons landing on the bedclothes around them. Looking for a moment as though he were torn between disappointment at the ruination of his new