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unbidden, the thought of how his cock would feel buried inside her began to tantalisingly dance through her already hazy and lust-filled mind. It had been a long time since any man had made her feel the way that the Comte did – far too long – and for it to be this most hateful of men who had managed to do so was deeply irritating and unsettling.
    He watched intently, studying every last detail of the conflict passing across her face as she continued to unconsciously stare at his cock with a hunger that could not be hidden. It was a hunger that convinced him entirely that she would be his. “Have you nothing to say to me, Esther?” he asked softly. “Perhaps it is simply that you wish to take advantage of my company now that we are alone once more, for words are not necessary between us to put voice to our mutual desire.”
    Her eyes widened further. “Did I not make it apparent last night how unwelcome your company is, Comte?” she demanded as a wave of heat coursed through her that left her entirely wrong-footed.
    Her shaky words amused Tristan greatly as he wedged his foot in the door. “ Oui , but the words your pretty mouth speaks are not what your body wishes to say. Darling, your desire for me is as evident as mine for you.”
    The dark circles of her breasts were all too visible through her nightgown, straining through the clinging silk; a fact it seemed she had not noticed, much to his delight. The compulsion to devote himself to the little nipples that were stiffening beneath his heated gaze was irresistible.
    As she stammered incomprehensibly, he balanced the tray on one hand and reached the other out towards her. “So, what did you dream of, Esther?” he asked softly, capturing one tautened nipple between his thumb and forefinger as she froze where she stood. “I confess, I dreamed of the kiss we shared – it was glorious, mais non ?”
    She arched against him, knowing that she should be screaming out to have the deceitful and debauched Comte removed from her; yet, somehow, her mouth would not form the words. “Comte... please !”
    “Please what? Desist? Or...” Tristan took another step towards her as he gently rolled her nipple between his long fingers to wrench a low cry from her lips. “Or are you begging me to make love to you, Esther? We both know that you want me to.”
    “What I want and what I need are two different things, Comte,” Esther managed to gasp, her steely words entirely at odds to the fire raging inside her as Tristan’s fingers began to toy with the tiny buttons running between her cleavage. “I am afraid that I am no green girl you can seduce into your bed.”
    “No?” he said mildly, deftly slipping the top button open before she had even realised his intent. “A shame, ma chére , for it is a very comfortable bed. If your preference is to enjoy the carnal pleasure with me elsewhere, though, I will be more than agreeable. That rug in front of your fireplace seems an excellent site upon which we could explore each other’s bodies - or we could take a sojourn to the gardens? Alternatively, Esther, I could simply lift your skirts and take you here where we stand.”       
    Her breath hitched. His sultry and heavy accent only increased the effect that his salacious words had upon her. All protest seemed to melt away in the face of the desperate desire that heightened further with every button that the Comte flicked open between her breasts.
    Tristan leaned his head in towards hers to press home the advantage he sensed he had won himself with his lust-filled words. “I brought you breakfast, Esther, for there is something that has come to my attention.” Her treacherous eyes flickered down towards her breasts and he laughed delightedly. “No, not your beautiful breasts – though they are occupying my mind almost exclusively. It is a family matter, I suppose you might say. May I come in, then, or are we going to do this in the corridor?”
    She hated the way