The Redemption of Julian Price(36)

––––––––

HENRIETTA LAY IN HER NIGHT RAIL snug beneath the covers, nose buried in a book, when Julian pounced onto the bed beside her. “It’s barely a sennight into our marriage, Hen. What the devil are you doing in bed with a book?”

“I’m reading it, Julian. It’s a highly engaging story.”

His brows rose. “Is it indeed?”

“Shall I read a few passages to you?”

He exhaled a petulant sound and threw himself onto his back, hands thrust behind his head. “Reading is hardly what I had in mind when I came to bed.”

Henrietta stole a glance at him before licking her finger and turning the page. She then read aloud, “He is now in bed with me the first time. Thrusting up his shirt and my shift, he laid his naked glowing body to mine . . . Oh, insupportable delight! Oh! Superhuman rapture! What pain could stand before a pleasure so transporting? I felt no more the smart of my wounds below; but, curling round him like the tendril of a vine, as if I feared any part of him should be untouched or unpressed by me, I returned his strenuous embraces and kisses with a fervor and gust only known to true love, and which mere lust never rises to.”

He sat up abruptly and scowled at the cover. “What the devil kind of book is that?”

Ignoring the question, she licked her finger and turned another page. “My beauteous youth was now glued to me in all the folds and twists that we could make our bodies meet in; when, no longer able to rein in the fierceness of refreshed desires, he gives his steed the head, and gently insinuating his thighs between mine, stopping my mouth with kisses of humid fire, makes a fresh eruption, and renewing his thrusts, pierces, tears, and forces his way up the torn, tender folds that yielded him admission. Soon his thrusts, more and more furious, cheeks flushed with a deeper scarlet, his eyes turned up in the fervent fit, some dying sighs, and an agonizing shudder, announced the approaches of that ecstatic pleasure when the warm gush darts through all the ravished inwards; what floods of bliss! What melting transports! What agonies of delight! Too fierce, too mighty for nature to sustain . . .” Henrietta gasped as he snatched the book from her hands.

Julian’s brows rose as he read the spine. “Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure? You are reading Fanny Hill? Where the devil did you get this?”

“Lady Cheswick gave it to me.”

“This obscene work has been banned for decades.”

“Obscene?” Henrietta laughed. “I find it well written and most enlightening.”

“You do understand that this is a work of prurient fantasy, specifically designed to incite sexual arousal?”

“Yes. I quite comprehend that part, Julian.” She glanced up at him, unable to suppress the curve in her lips. “And I am not unaffected by it. Are you?”

Tossing the book down, he threw his head back in raucous laughter. “My God, Hen! What have I gotten myself into?”

“Why are you laughing? I told you I wanted to learn how to please you. It is my greatest desire to inspire your love and passion, Julian.”

“My love and my passion?” He rolled her beneath him and kissed her deeply. “My dear, dear, girl,” he murmured between the kisses he rained all over her face. “You should be very careful what you wish for . . . because you just may get it.”

END

––––––––

If you enjoyed this story, please sign up for my new release newsletter.





PREVIEW: A PLEDGE OF PASSION


(The Rules of Engagement #2) Victoria Vane –––––––– Only a madman makes a promise in the heat of passion... During a midnight tryst in a moonlit garden, Nicolas Needham fell in love—only to walk away. As a younger son with few connections, his pride demanded that he better his circumstances before paying his suit to Lady Mariah. When Nicolas is finally given the opportunity he needs to advance—by negotiating a contract of matrimony on the British Envoy’s behalf—he is shocked to learn that the intended bride is the same woman to whom he once pledged himself.

And only a fool believes him.... Lady Mariah Morehaven has lived a quiet, almost reclusive life in the country. While she accepts that marriage is her unavoidable destiny, as a baroness in her own right, and heir to one of the oldest and land-rich estates in England, she fears becoming the target of fortune hunters. Entrusting her cousin’s well-connected godmother to help her find a suitable match, Mariah is devastated to discover that the man sent to negotiate for her hand is the very same who broke her heart.





PROLOGUE


––––––––

Love is a passion which kindles honor into noble acts.

John Dryden

––––––––

My Dearest Mariah, Twelve long and agonizing months have passed since that fateful night I claimed a kiss and a promise from your sweet lips—the kiss meant to seal a pact that I have failed to uphold.

I strongly wish for what I faintly hope; like the daydreams of melancholy men, I think and think in things impossible, yet have now lost my way wandering in that golden maze.

That night was the loveliest dream, but the future we spoke of is naught but a fantasy that can never be. Thus, it is with a heart burdened with the greatest regret that I release you from your vow.