Sin Read Online Free PDF Page A

his fingertip over the painted vulva. “You must know how a man delights in parting those soft lips and finding the heat and honey within.”
    He paused. Silence stretched for many fervent heartbeats. She heard her soft, quick breaths. The tick of the mantel clock. The greedy roar of the flames.
    “Do you touch yourself like this, sweeting? Do you paint your quim with your brush until you are creamy and wet? Do you enjoy threesomes? Do you prefer two cocks at your command, or another woman’s juicy cunny?”
    Her knees felt as insubstantial as sea foam.
    He lifted her hand from the back of the chair, gave a light brush across her knuckles with his lips. Gentlemanly. Safe. But he drew her index finger into his mouth and she was shocked and thrilled. His tongue toyed with the ridge of her fingernail, soaking the thin cotton.
    How could the stroke of his tongue on her finger make her ache between her thighs?
    But it did.
    Why didn’t she pull her hand back? Stop him? She couldn’t. His words, his forbidden words, cast an irresistible spell.
    She must relax. How would the auburn-haired courtesan she’d created behave? A woman bold enough to pleasure her lover in a theatre box wouldn’t be gasping in shock at a kiss on her fingertips.
    He released her finger and reached for the hem of her glove. Goodness, she was about to lose an article of clothing. He bared her hand and her glove fluttered to the carpet.
    “In one kiss, sweetheart, I’ll know if you are innocent or not.”
    No, he wouldn’t. She would kiss him like a courtesan. She wasn’t certain how a jade kissed, but it must be with great passion. Unfortunately, she was entirely on her own. None of her father’s pictures depicted kisses.
    With a gentle tug, he drew her to take a step closer. She lost balance, fell into his embrace. Her body pressed along his and his erection nudged her stomach. So close, so intimately close.
    His lordship caught her other hand by the wrist, surprisingly quick despite the lazy grace of his movements. In a heartbeat, both her hands were captured in his.
    Fighting the urge to gulp, she stared as bold as brass into his turquoise eyes. But she felt anything but bold as his lips—his perfectly sculpted, sensual lips—lowered toward hers.
    She must behave like a wanton.
    She was wanton. His mouth was a work of art, but all she could think of was pressing her mouth to that perfection and making it yield to her. Feigning sauciness, she slid her foot up his lordship’s polished boot. Her soft slipper followed the shape of his bulging calf. The leather fit him like a second skin.
    He caught her around the waist, his large hands splayed over her hips. Her nipples ached—she needed something…some pressure against them. She arched up against him, so sinfully close her breasts pushed into his hard and solid chest.
    His lips slanted over hers and her moan vanished into his mouth. She tasted his morning coffee, a trace of smoke, and heat, delicious heat.
    She had no chance to pretend passion—he lured her lips apart and slid his tongue inside. She’d never kissed like this. She’d only had one peck, one boring, meaningless peck in her whole life! This was scandalous, luscious. His tongue filled her mouth, touched hers, and coaxed it into sensual play.
    Venetia slid her arms around his neck and dared to let her fingertips stroke his black hair, softer than the sable in her treasured brushes.
    He moaned. Hoarsely.
    She’d made him moan. A thrill of power rushed through her. She felt, wild, reckless, mad. Deep in her throat, she moaned again, too. She lifted her leg, seeking to wrap it around his hips. To hold him close. To never let him go.
    Why had she never thought to draw something as spectacular as a kiss?
    Her body burned with need. Dizzying desire swamped her. She slipped her hands up his back—the earl’s broad, hard, beautiful back. She stroked the planes she’d drawn, imagining bare skin, sculpted muscle. His hands cupped her