Lady Alexandra's Lover (Sex and the Season #3) - Helen Hardt Page 0,11
the rules of the game. I answer one question, and then I get to ask you one.”
“Lord… All right. Go ahead.”
“Were you in love with Rose?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”
“Very well. You shall do something. Hmm.” She rubbed her chin. “I’m thinking I should like to see what’s under that linen…”
“Alexandra!”
“Then answer, Evan.”
“Fine. No, I was not in love with Rose. Nor she with me.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“No.” He pounded the table. “Damn! That’s two questions.”
Ally laughed again. “Yes, you’re going to have to pay more attention now, aren’t you?”
He lifted his lips into a lopsided grin. Good, he was unwinding a bit. Such a beautiful man shouldn’t always be so stuffy.
“My turn, then,” he said. “Did your father strike your mother?”
Ally’s body heated, and she clenched her hands into fists. Angus MacIntyre, the Earl of Longarry, had done far more than strike her mother. “I’m not going to answer that.”
“The game was your idea, Alexandra.”
“I know. And it was a foolish one.”
“You don’t strike me as a woman who backs down from a challenge.”
“I’m not.” She stood. “Give me my action, then. What must I do?”
“You’d better watch yourself,” he said slyly. “I may actually drop my toga and force you to look.”
“You think that would deter me?” She scoffed. “I nearly made you take the dratted thing off a moment ago.”
“Yes, you did. But you were bluffing, I’d bet. I don’t think you’re nearly as experienced as you’d like me to believe you are.”
She sat down with a huff. “Yes, my father struck my mother. Now why do you want to know?”
“Fair question. I want to know because your mother, you, and your sister are part of my life now. I care about all of you.”
“What does it matter, though? The man is dead, thank God. It’s not like you can call him out.”
“No. But my father cares very deeply for your mother. He’s in love with her. He told me your father was abusive, and that it makes him sick inside to think of it. He wants to make it up to her and give her the life she deserves.”
“He seems to be doing that just fine, so why all the questions?”
He paused a moment and stroked the light night beard on his jawline. “Not your turn, Alexandra.” He gazed at her, his brown eyes ablaze, as if he could see her innermost thoughts. “No man should ever strike a woman. Any man who does is nothing but a bully and a coward.”
“Frankly, I couldn’t agree more.” That was the truth of it. “Your question, please?”
He reached forward and lightly brushed his fingers over hers. “Did your father ever strike you?”
Confessions of Lady Prudence
by Madame O
Dearest Amelia,
I’ve had my second art lesson with Monsieur Christophe Bertrand, and it was even more engaging than the first. If you’re looking to dabble in something new, might I suggest art? Perhaps there are instructors as fascinating as Christophe in the Americas. I hope so, for your sake, my dear.
My pussy is still hammering as I write this, only an hour past my lesson. Today we worked on charcoal drawing, and he gave me the most fascinating subject—his cock!
It is a work of art, dear Amelia, long and thick and perfectly marbled with two violet veins meandering around it and springing from a bush of onyx curls. He was erect when he produced it, and I couldn’t help myself. I dropped to my knees and licked the tip. The salty drop of liquid tantalized my tongue, and I so longed to take his entire length to the back of my throat.
He pulled me to my feet, however. “My lady, as much as I would love your ruby lips around my member, we must first have our lesson. I promise you may suck my cock to your heart’s content after we finish.”
He wanted me, Amelia. I could see it in his lovely dark eyes. But he is a gentleman of honor, and he must first do what he is being paid by Auntie Bea for—teach me art.
I drew several charcoal drawings of his beautiful shaft. When our hour was complete, he pushed me back down to my knees.
“And now, my lady, you may suck my cock.”
My lips were on him in a flash, and I slid my tongue up and down his thick member. He plunged into my mouth, and soon my quim began throbbing in time with his thrusts. If only I had disrobed beforehand! How