Lady Waverly's Lovers Read Online Free Page A

“At supper tomorrow, perhaps.”
    “Yes, yes!” I cried. “I will do anything.”
    “Come,” he growled.
    The moment the word rasped from his lips, my body exploded with pleasure and I bucked endlessly against him.
    He growled in pleasure and as my orgasm subsided, he yanked free of my quaking body and sprayed his seed across my sore ass and back. Leaning forward, he rubbed fluids into my skin, branding me, marking me with his scent.
    I practically purred as I collapsed against the back of the settee and as I looked at him over my shoulder again, he smiled.
    “I will see you at supper tomorrow, my lady.”
    Without another word, he strutted from the room, only pausing to gather his abandoned clothing. He left me weak, trembling and ready to do as he asked. Tomorrow night cannot come fast enough.

 
 
 
Three

     
    June 16, 1812
    I have been watching Quinton Uppington for years. It is virtually impossible not to watch him. In a world of pampered dandies, he is a well-muscled self-made man who declares the rail is the future. Though he is ridiculously rich, he still has the scars and the feel of the street to recommend him. When I began to hear rumors about his… proclivities , I was skeptical. But the more people of my sphere whispered, the more I began to wonder.
    Could it truly be that handsome, virile Quinton Uppington enjoyed men and women in equal measure?
    Titillated, I invited him to our country party with Christopher’s orders to find out the truth.
    I watched him the first few days, marking his attentions and trying to guess his needs. I saw him play quite vigorously with Lady Luna, who he had in the hallway against the wall one bright morning as I watched and from a parlor. But I also saw him cast glances at some of my more handsome footmen.
    I dared to begin to believe the rumors and tonight I put my plan into action. After supper, when the pleasures began, I placed myself near Mr. Uppington and asked him about his well-known interest in art. Uppington’s eyebrows lifted and he tore his gaze away from the lusty passions of some of our couples.
    “You ask me about art, my lady?” he said with a sardonic smile. “With such things before you?”
    “Isn’t some of this art?” I asked, taking his hand. He glanced at our intertwined fingers and his smile widened as I believe he guessed my intent. “Would you liked to see my husband’s favorite…piece?”
    “Indeed, for I have heard much about it,” Uppington said, placing a hand on my back. “Lead the way.”
    I did, sending Christopher a wink as we left the room. He smiled, though it was labored. After all, at that very moment he was being stroked by one lady while another rubbed herself against him and nibbled his ears.
    I took Quinton to the exhibition hall that was lined with portraits and landscapes from fine artists. But as we entered the hallway and I shut the door behind us, Uppington didn’t look at the art. He shoved me roughly against the door and his mouth found mine.
    I surrendered to his kiss, which was fiery and passionate. He leaned against me and his hardness drove into my belly, making me wild with wanting.
    “Your husband has fine taste,” he growled before his mouth moved to my neck. “By God, you are as intoxicating as wine.”
    I laughed. “As are you. But when you mention Christopher’s tastes, it makes me wonder…have rumors of yours been true?”
    He hesitated and drew back, his pupils dilated but his expression cautious. “My tastes?” he repeated.
    I nodded and turned him slowly to face the other end of the hallway. From the shadows our stable master Andrew rose. He stepped forward, his gaze first fixed on me with interest, then Uppington, then me again.
    “Ah,” Quinton drawled. “But what will you say or do if my answer is yes? Some do not approve of such things.”
    I understood his hesitations. In the marriage mart, in most of the prudish boring ton , he might be punished for his desires.
    “Pleasure is