Muttering an oath, he tossed the letter into the fire and lit a cheroot. He inhaled the cigar’s smoke with satisfaction and pondered how to reply to the viscount’s missive. Should he have the fool roughed up a bit, scare him into compliance? Or, should he chalk up the loss as a lesson learned? Never gamble with wastrels possessing little funds to back their blusters--in short, he should have known better.

He had a large fortune and did not need Easterly’s ill-used money. And he had women aplenty, so the prospect of some painted harlot arriving on his doorstep did little to whet his appetite for sex-play.

Lord Ashton sighed wearily. Lately, he had grown tired of his lifestyle. Endless parties--endless shapes and shades of women passing in and out of his bed. The spark was gone. No longer a young buck, at six and thirty, he had lost his penchant for skirt-chasing and games of chance.

A niggling in his gut told him time was running out. If he was to find a wife and produce an heir it would have to be soon, or he’d attend his nuptials holding a cane and squinting through spectacles. He laughed aloud at the thought and the wolfhounds lounging at his feet began barking.

"Rufus! Apollo! Cease and desist this instant," he ordered without menace. The hounds beat their tails on the hardwood floor and returned their chins to their front paws. "Good fellows," he said, dropping down on a brocade chaise and propping his booted feet on the low table in front of it.

He picked up a drink he’d poured earlier and stared into the glass. He turned to the bottle more often these days, he thought idly, and at this hour he was usually well on his way to being drunk. Today was no exception.

"What would we do with only one lady underfoot, boys?" he questioned the dogs, swirling the amber liquid.

Before he could conjure up an answer to his question, his man, Perkins, coughed discreetly at the open door. "My lord, a young woman is here requesting an audience with you, sir." Perkins looked quite put out by this turn of events.

Damn it to Hell! Could the mail coach have been so delayed that he received the notice of the chit’s arrival in a week’s time on the actual day she appeared? Lord Ashton was furious with Easterly now, denied the chance to respond and put the other man in his place. It wasn’t a matter of money, it was a matter of pride. Ashton never lost in the arena of besting lesser men.

"Send her in, Perkins," he hissed. Not bothering to stand, he put his drink down, clamped his cheroot between his teeth, and braced his arms across his chest to await trouble. And trouble she would be, of this he was certain.

Only one type of woman would allow herself to be bartered as debt payment from one man to another? No lady. And most probably an opportunist, out for some trinkets and a good time at his expense.

He expected red satin, pink feathers, and gaudy paste jewelry to flounce in through his study door, adorning the body of a practiced whore. What he got was the shock of all his jaded adult days.

A girl, less than twenty to be sure, as pure of face and complexion as ever he’d laid eyes on, glided into the room and stood regally before him as if she were the Queen herself. Her slim waist and sumptuous breasts revealed their lovely curves beneath the thin fabric of her pale green frock. Her honey-colored hair hung in long ringlets, framing an oval face.

And her lips, full and berry-red without artificial enhancements, parted slightly while she awaited his acknowledgment. Lord Ashton found he had quite literally quit breathing. He choked on the smoke from his cheroot, stood abruptly, and threw the cigar into the fire.

"Miss--uh--Lady . . ." He could not find the words to address her properly. He cursed his drink-addled brain.

"Lord Ashton, I’m Lady Blanchard, the late duke of Blanchard’s daughter. Pleased to make your acquaintance," she said, offering her hand.

A duke’s daughter? And Blanchard’s no less. Her family had been peers of the realm for centuries. Lord Ashton swallowed and recovered his composure. "Lady Blanchard," he said, bending low over her hand and brushing his lips gently on her perfumed glove . . . very sweet. Rising, he said, "I am puzzled by your visit. To my knowledge, we have never been introduced." He didn’t want to say the wrong thing on the chance she had come for a perfectly sane reason.

She averted her pretty green eyes for a moment and he found he couldn’t stop staring at her lovely countenance. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. But she was a genteel, well bred young lady. He had no business staring at her pert nipples, tantalizingly visible through the gauzy fabric of her gown.

He shifted, in what he hoped was a casual manner, to reposition the sudden erection growing in his tight-fitting riding breeches. Damn! Well into his cups and the mere sight of her--fully clothed--got a rise of out him.

When her feathery eyelashes fluttered to reveal those alluring, sea-green eyes again, he hid his flagrant arousal by walking behind the high-backed settee.

"Please, won’t you sit," he said, indicating the small couch in front of him.

"Thank you," she murmured. After she settled and arranged her skirts, it was her turn to look puzzled. "Did you not receive Lord Easterly’s letter?" she asked.

Devil take it, she was the girl after all. But how could it be? "Ah, yes, the letter," he said, searching for the best way to proceed. "To be perfectly frank, Lady Blanchard, I had not expected a woman of your social standing to present herself at my home. May I be bold enough to ask how you found yourself in this--er--predicament?"

Her manner, thusfar, had been straightforward, and she didn’t play coy now. "If I may be direct, Lord Ashton, my sister and I are orphans and our only living relative is Lord Easterly. I have no choice, until I come into my money, but to abide by his wishes. He has sent my sister to a convent, and me to you."

She folded her gloved hands in her lap, as composed as you please, then offered a slight rub to Apollo’s belly with her slippered toe when the dog whined and wagged at her feet.

Her small foot, peeking from beneath the folds of her gown, brought about unbidden thoughts of drawing her tender toes into his mouth. What in Hell was the matter with him? He pressed his groin into the back of the settee to relieve the tightening pressure.

"I admire your direct manner, Lady Blanchard," he said as calmly as possible, but he was unable to suppress the steady stream of fantasies her nearness created in his befuddled mind. He took a steadying breath. "I’m not certain what you’ve heard about me or what you expect to find here, but I assure you I am very pleased with this development."

Thea twisted her body and looked up at him. He smiled down at her and she swallowed against the knot of tension in her throat. He was truly glorious. She had been hard-pressed not to gawk at him from the moment she entered his study.

She had determined on the carriage ride here that she would do anything for Lord Ashton to gain his assistance in freeing her sister from the convent. But she hadn’t dared hope he’d be tall, muscular, and darkly handsome.

There was no reason, none at all, to be shy or mince words to satisfy his curiosity about what she knew of him. "As to what I’ve been told of you, my lord . . . I’ve been told you are a man who values a woman’s company as much as five thousand," she said.

Nervousness threatened to dissolve Thea’s fragile composure. She was not practiced in the sensual arts. She did not know what in hell she was going to do to satisfy her cousin’s debt!

Lord Ashton tried to gauge her experience with men. Her bold tone surprised him. "I would have laid bets you were a virgin, but I see I would have lost--"

"I am a virgin, Lord Ashton," she said quickly, all at once overwhelmed with the need to be truthful in the midst of this absurdity. He would be furious with her now and send her packing. But Thea could not, would not, go back to Lord Easterly under any circumstances. She sighed unhappily and stared at her lap.

Lord Ashton let her admission filter into his aching, sobering head. She was a virgin. The bastard, Easterly, had sent an innocent--a lamb to the slaughter.

He weighed his options. He could do the honorable thing and send her on her way, writing off Easterly’s damned debt. Or, he could behave like all the lowly dogs of his gender and offer her freedom at a price--a small taste of her woman’s charms.

Knowing full well he’d never be able to keep his hands off Lady Blanchard unless he shoved her out the door right now, he gave into his baser needs with only a split-second of remorse. After all, when was the last time a woman had aroused him so? She was too tempting to resist. All he wanted was a little sample of her sweetness . . .

Ashton moved around from behind the settee and let her see for herself the full effect she had on him. "You will find that some men are guided by their appetites, opting to bypass higher moral ground whenever possible."

Thea jerked back on the couch, shying away from brashness and obvious arousal. Were all men brutes?

"As you can plainly see," he said huskily, shifting one hand to the top button of his trousers to force her gaze, "I hunger for you."

He watched her study the hard bulge between his legs and prayed her curiosity would lead her. He didn’t want to hurt or frighten her--Lud! He hadn’t had a virgin in his home in ten years at best.

But this tasty little morsel Easterly had foolishly let slip away had his heart racing and blood pounding in a way he’d never experienced with a woman before. And he was an unreformed rogue, after all. He simply could not resist her.

"Could you show me to my room?" she asked, hoping to delay the inevitable. "I’m very tired--"

"Later," he hissed.

Fear danced in her eyes and he cursed fate for allowing a gently bred lady to cross his jaded path. Lady Blanchard should be stitching flowers on her petticoats and having romantic poetry read to her by equally romantic swains. But by simple chance, she’d been delivered to his lair--served up on a silver platter.

Before he could think better of it, Ashton lifted her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her sumptuous, sweet-smelling body. She gasped, and struggled to free herself, but the feel and texture of her ripe curves had already sealed her fate. She was perfection. He lowered his head and tasted her soft lips.

She moaned and wiggled in his arms, inadvertently pressing her mound against his cock until he thought he would lose his mind.

"Relax," he murmured into her honeyed mouth. "I won’t hurt you, my lady, but I mean to satisfy my cravings before I let you go."

"Please," Thea said breathlessly, wanting to regain some control of the situation, but inexplicably exhilarated by the feel and taste of Lord Ashton’s mouth, and by his hard male body pressed against hers.

When he dropped his head and blazed a trail of hot kisses on her neck and over the tops of her breasts, Thea arched into him, unable to understand or stop what was happening to her. Pure physical sensation took over and her knees buckled.

Lord Ashton caught her up in his arms. "Let us dispense with formalities of any kind, my lady," he whispered in her ear, then turned his attention to nibbling her tender lobe and neck.

"I don’t know--I’m not sure," she pleaded, unable to stop the mounting pleasure from spiraling out of control. He smelled of whiskey and sweet tobacco. His powerful body wrapped her in a tempest of sensation. He spoke roughly, but his touch was gentle, tempting her to succumb to his will.

Her body responded of its own volition, and soon she felt the seeping wetness of her desire between her legs. She pressed her body closer and instinctively shifted her hips against his rock-hard groin.

"You don’t need to be sure," he said. "I am sure enough for both of us." Christ! If she pressed her sweet mound against him one more time he would humiliate himself like a green lad. "Let me give you pleasure. Tell me your name, my sweet."

"Thea."

"Thea . . . a lovely name for a lovely woman. You will call me Jordan," he murmured, stroking her lushness with eager hands. He wanted to rip the stifling clothing from her body and free her beauty for a visual feast. But he forced himself to slow down. Initiating a virgin properly took time and patience.

"Lord Ashton--Jordan! I can’t," Thea insisted, pushing against him, blindly trying to harness the tempest within her.

Jordan held her away from him a bit and tried to steady his breathing. "I want to make something clear from the start, Thea. You are not a paid prostitute. You are here as my guest, no matter how odd the circumstances that brought you to me. But I am no gentleman. The sooner you realize that I intend on having my way, the better it will be for you."

His arrogance rankled, but Thea was too unsure of the feelings he aroused in her, and the precariousness of her situation, to fight him. She looked into his ebony gaze and searched for a monster, but found none. He smiled and her resolve shattered.

His heavy-lidded gaze seared her with heat, and the throbbing ache between her legs became unbearable. Her cousin had taken advantage of her--used her--and she’d despised him. Lord Ashton would do the same, and yet she longed for another kiss. Thea was frightened by her sudden need.

Jordan savored the view of her flawless, flushed skin. "I would forego a fortune in reneged debts to share your bed, but I have no desire to force you. I have never raped a woman in my life and I don’t plan on starting now. You need not fear me." He hoped his words would relax her. He could see her warring passions reflecting in her beautiful eyes.

Thea faced him, trembling, but determined to make the best of an impossible situation. He’d said he wouldn’t rape her and for some reason she believed him. He did not need to use his superior male strength to force her--he cajoled her instead with glimpses of his desire. Her own passionate nature responded recklessly.

"I have nowhere else to go," she said, "and no means with which to secure my sister’s freedom from the convent as yet. I would be obliged if you would shelter me in my time of . . . of need."

The tip of her pink, wet tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Immediately, visions of her lovely mouth and tongue roaming over his cock filled Jordan’s head. But, dammit, what was this about her sister needing to be rescued from the convent?

"Your sister did not choose that life?" he asked.

"Lord Easterly banished her to a convent rather than see her married to the man with whom she was engaged."

"Whatever for?" Jordan demanded.

"My cousin is not the beneficiary of my father’s estate as custom would dictate. I am. Lord Easterly feels . . ." Thea searched for the right words, "the need to punish me and my sister, Tess, for the insult." She stared at the floor, remembering Rueben Granville’s cold disregard for their welfare. "Our happiness is not his priority, my lord."

"What rubbish. That sniveling fop will not bother you again, I can assure you of that!"

"I will gladly repay your kindness with anything you deem appropriate," Thea said, knowing she had no choice, but hoping he would find it in his heart to be gentle with her.

Jordan was lost in her green eyes, lost in the lull of her husky voice. All the effects of the alcohol he’d swallowed dissipated in her presence. He was stone-cold sober.

And still, if she’d asked him, he’d probably hand over everything he owned to her, lock, stock and barrel. Thank God she didn’t realize her full power over him. He was being driven by the loss of blood from his brain, rushing to fill his shaft to a straining beyond endurance.

His groin was on fire, but that wasn’t all. His heart--that organ he’d spent a lifetime ignoring--swelled in his chest at her honest, tender innocence. At her complete acceptance of her fate at his hands.

"If you would grant me the honor of showing you the ways of lust, Thea, I will give you more pleasure than you can fathom." He wanted nothing more than to have her moaning and bucking in his bed night after night. How could he make it happen?

Then an idea struck him, brilliant in its simplicity. "If you favor me with your company for a month, I will consider Easterly’s debt repaid in full. I will attain your sister’s freedom and see you both established until you come of age."

He surprised himself with this extravagant promise, but he barely acknowledged what it meant. He didn’t give a damn at the moment. All that mattered was getting her to agree to stay with him.

Thea was shocked by his offer. A month. He wanted one month of carnal pleasure, and then he would save Tess from the confines of convent life so they would be free at last. The quickening in her belly told her a month with the handsome lord might not be so bad. She was afraid of her wanton thoughts, wondered if she was truly amoral for the desire he sparked in her--a man she’d only just met. Well, it mattered little. She would have to repent her sins later.

"You are most generous, Jordan. I place myself in your hands. Please," she whispered, "show me what to do."

He smiled again, his beautiful looks staggering in their intensity. His feral eyes undressed her before he even touched her with his hands.

"Sit," he directed.

She did as she was told, then he surprised her by kneeling in front of her. A picture of Mavis kneeling between Lord Easterly’s legs flashed in Thea’s mind.

"You are to enjoy this, Thea, and tell me if anything I do upsets you in the least and I will stop." He rested his large, warm hands on her thighs. "I am not such a villain to neglect your pleasure."

His heated touch sent jolts of energy through her body. Thea waited, her anticipation mounting my the second.

"I want to undress you now," he said softly.

Thea knew it was wrong to want him so much, a virtual stranger, and yet she sensed the good in him--so unlike her cousin. What harm could it do? What other options did she have? He was not married. He obviously lived to follow his whims.

Her reputation would be in tatters if anyone found out where her cousin had sent her--and why. Should she resign herself to spinsterhood without having sampled the bounty of a well-endowed male? The answer to that was a definitive No.

The warmth from his palms sizzled up her thighs straight to her most sensitive spot. "Yes, Jordan . . ."

He started with her gloves, peeling them slowly off her arms and trailing his mouth over the tender underside of her elbows and wrists in the process. The sensation of his hot breath on her skin sent shivers down her spine.

Then he startled her by ripping the delicate seams on her bodice. Buttons flew in all directions.

"Oh," she exclaimed, excited by his need.

Heat flooded her face when she remembered what she had on. She was wearing a risqué corset given to her by the well-meaning Mavis, and it stopped short of covering her nipples. They lay exposed to his view, pert and aching. Thea could hardly sit still in her seat. Moisture dampened the fabric of her drawers.

"Such exquisite breasts. They lure a man to suckle," he said before his lips came down to claim her nipples, pulling them deeply into his mouth. His hot tongue laved her buds until they hardened like tiny pebbles in his talented mouth.

Thea stared down at his dark head in amazement and watched his lips work their magic at her breasts. Sighing with pleasure, she ran her fingers through his thick, wavy hair and yearned for a way to respond, but wasn’t sure what to do.

Hesitantly, she dropped little kisses on his brow and he acknowledged her effort by grinning up at her with a nipple clamped audaciously between his teeth. His masculine scent filled the air around her and she pulled him closer. Never had she felt anything so profound before. The sight of this virile man, feasting on her body, was more than she could bear.

But he was by no means done. He gave her nipples one last delicious laving, then pulled back. "Stand and we’ll divest you of this gown. I would take in all your beauty." By this time Thea was breathless and could barely manage to gain her feet without his help. When her dress, corset, and chemise lay tossed in a puddle at their feet, sending the dogs to the other side of the room, he pushed her gently back down on the couch and resumed his position between her knees. "Can you spread your lovely legs for me?" he asked intently, branding her with his gaze, waiting for her acquiescence.

Thea shivered at the implication of his words. Her full breasts, naked and tingling, blocked her view of her lower body. But she knew he would see how wet she’d become if she did as he asked.

He was so gentle, so patient with her. She was dying for some relief from the constant throbbing of her swollen cleft. Taking a measured breath, she spread her legs, knowing somehow he would appease her need.

When she inched her legs apart, Jordan had to fight the urge to bury his face between her silky thighs. "You are so beautiful," he said with a ragged breath.

He ran his fingers slowly along Thea’s inner thighs until he touched the lace-edged opening of her drawers. When he pulled the thin fabric farther apart and gazed at her creamy, pink folds for the first time, he sucked in a harsh breath.

Her sweet pussy, swollen and tender, aching, he knew, to be probed and touched, was surrounded by a soft nest of dark-blonde curls. Her heightened state of readiness surprised him, but it would make his entry easier for her, maybe even pleasurable this first time. He had no notion of her refusing him now.

"I want to be inside you--fuck you," he said hoarsely. "Do you understand what that means, Thea?"

Thea tilted her hips forward, hoping her actions weren’t too bold, hoping beyond anything she’d ever experienced that fucking would alleviate the mounting, unbearable tension building inside her. "I want to know, Jordan," she said breathlessly. "Do it. Do it now, please!"

When she spread her legs wider and shifted her hips impatiently, Jordan thought he would explode. He stood and removed all his clothing. He stood still for a moment, his rigid cock pulsating right in front of her face, allowing her to become accustomed to his nakedness. "Do you want me, sweetheart?"

Thea was paralyzed by desire. Jordan’s body was the embodiment of male strength and power. His penis was so engorged, so thick and stiff, she could barely believe her eyes. And the rest of his body was hardened planes and angular lines where she was soft and curved.

He had an abundance of black curly hair on his muscular chest, and it tapered down his taut stomach to meet the thatch of hair surrounding his jutting manhood. Her mouth watered in anticipation of experiencing the texture of him with her hands and lips.

Instead of answering his question, she used her God-given instincts to spur him on. She rubbed her aching nipples with one hand and let her other hand drop between her legs to fondle the core of her pleasure. Her fingers wove their way through her damp curls and she spread the engorged lips of her pussy so he could see her clit clearly while she stroked herself.

That was all it took. Her underdrawers were ripped off in a heartbeat. Thea froze at his show of male possessiveness--his shear force--but the sizzling desire in his eyes encouraged her to keep rubbing herself.

With a ragged groan, Jordan pushed her on her back and lay fully on top of her, their bodies rubbing together, slick now, with perspiration and her own creamy essence.

"Will you take me into your body?" he asked. He would die in agony if she refused. His question had sounded more like a plea. God, what she did to him!

Thea looked at the man braced on strong arms above her. She wanted him like she’d never wanted anything else. "Yes," she whispered.

His relief was overwhelming. "This will only hurt a moment," he said right before the crown of his pulsating shaft breached her virgin slit and thrust home in one sure stroke.

Miraculously, her tight hole stretched to accommodate him, and when he rocked his hips, pinioning her to the cushions beneath, Thea’s instincts took over and she answered his need thrust for thrust.

She buried her face in the mat of hair covering his chest and rubbed her nose and mouth against his hot, damp skin. With each powerful stroke, his cock filled her, stretched her. Thea was so overcome with desire, she licked his salty, sweat-skimmed skin and nipped his chest with her lips and teeth.

When he felt her mouth on him, felt her reckless abandon, Jordan flung his head back, straining over her luscious body. Sweat trickled down his temples, and he pumped furiously into her sweet wetness, closing in on release. Had he ever felt like this? Had he ever wanted a woman more?

When Thea’s untried body quickly clenched around him in a spiraling climax, the earth spun out from under her and she cried out in disbelief. "Jordan . . . Jordan, yes, yes!"

Jordan exploded within her, shooting his hot seed deep inside her tight, slick pussy, as lost in the tumult of desire as she. "Christ!" Paradise. "Thea, my love . . ."

Thea arched her back and wrapped her long legs around Jordan’s waist. Had she heard the endearment, or was it all part of the insensible afternoon of being fucked so deliciously for the first time?

She didn’t care. Her body felt languid and loose, her mind free and open. This man had shown her what her heart and mind had only fantasized about. Thea felt lost on a sea of overwhelming emotion. "I love you," she whispered into his silky black hair. Her soul had been touched by this man. There was no going back now.

Jordan exhaled sharply. No woman had ever said those words to him and meant it. The courtesans and mistresses he’d bedded said anything to get him to perform. But Thea was innocent. He’d felt her virgin's membrane give way when he’d buried himself inside her. But surely she hadn’t taken his love words, professed in the heat of the moment, seriously?

Then something happened to Lord Ashton that had never happened before. As he lay breathless, still dazed by the experience, absorbing the warmth of Thea’s naked body, he inhaled the sweet scent of her silken hair and lost himself in her fresh vitality.

He felt at home with a woman for the first time in his life. And she’d proclaimed her love. This terrified him and filled him with joy at the same time. He did not know how to react.

"Thea. What miracle has brought you to me?"

Tears streamed down her heated cheeks and slipped over her smiling lips, moistening them, inviting another kiss. Jordan couldn’t resist. He tugged gently on her lips, nibbling them like plump, succulent fruit with his teeth. Her salty tears flavored his mouth and pierced his heart. When he dipped his tongue to mate intimately with hers, he lost his composure and lapped up her warm, wet essence in a frenzy of desire.

Finally, he tore himself away. "I don’t know what you’ve done to me, Thea," he rasped out. He was afraid to acknowledge the new feelings she inspired, and her declaration of love only served to jumble his emotions further. But he knew he had to have her. "I doubt I will ever be able to let you go."

Thea’s heart swelled with love and devotion in that instant. He wanted her. She was desired by this man, a man who could have any woman he wanted. He hadn’t said he loved her, but it hardly mattered because Thea had found love for him in her heart and it would sustain her.

But how could she possibly show her passion for him as expertly as he had shown his for her? He was experienced, used to experienced women. Thea wanted to learn everything the highly paid courtesans knew--wanted the knowledge to keep him lusting for her in bed every night.

"Jordan, how can I learn to please you like you’ve pleasured me? I want to be the best you’ve ever had, yet I have no experience."

Jordan rolled off Thea and slowly sat up on the edge of the couch. He let his gaze linger over every delectable inch of her naked body. He couldn’t resist reaching out and rubbing the soft, damp triangle of curls between her legs with his fingers.

The coiled hair was slick, still sticky with their mingled juices, and the smell of sex hung heavily in the air around them. She had no idea how much he burned for her, how much she had already given him.

God, he had tried it all, had fucked in every possible position with every type of woman, sometimes more than one at a time. He had even attended debauched orgies where men and women changed partners as often as champagne flutes.

But he hadn’t always been so jaded. His early initiation into the realm of carnal lust had been wondrous. He had learned from the Mistress of Seduction. A woman known only as Miss Rose, whose establishment catered exclusively to the most elite nobility.

It cost a king’s ransom for a week’s tutorial in the arts of lovemaking, but it had been well worth it. And for the first time in his life, he wanted a woman’s pleasure to come before his own.

Could he even entertain the idea of sending Thea to Miss Rose? Something told him that her immediate climax and reckless abandon today bode well for her future pleasure as well as his own.

"I would be pleased to teach you the endless possibilities of lovemaking, Thea. But if you are open to trying new things, I would offer you an adventure into the province of the forbidden. A journey I took once myself."

"An adventure?" Thea asked, puzzled. "Would you go with me?"

Her innocent eyes searched his for guidance. She could hypnotize him with her gaze if he stared too long. "I would not accompany you, my sweet, but it would only be for a week. At the end of such time I would come to collect you and bring you back here. I couldn’t bear to share you with anyone a moment longer."

He smiled at her, hoping she would have spirit enough to accept his challenge and fulfill her full sexual potential. Her body was made for loving and her mouth made for pleasure. His cock came to life again at these decadent thoughts, and he shifted his position on the couch next to her so she could see his need.

"Where--what kind of place is this?" she asked.

"A palace of extreme sensual awakening, a safe haven to give and receive sexual pleasure in all its glorious forms."

Her eyes focused on his huge, rigid penis. The sight of his powerful erection and the sound of his deep, husky voice acted on her over-sensitized nerve endings like a brand of hot iron.

"If this adventure will help me learn to give you pleasure, then I will go willingly." She reached for his stiff cock and pulled, guiding him back to her wet, aching slit. "I want you again . . . Jordan, please."

He didn’t need to be asked twice. In one powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt in her tight, hot sheath. Then he lost total control of himself like an untried youth, crying out in exquisite torture when his cum spurt forth in fast, searing gushes.

He vowed then and there, while gasping for air, to get Thea on the next coach to Miss Rose’s establishment on the morrow.