Submitting to Lord Rockwell Read Online Free Page B

if I meant to force my will upon you. All that I do is
for your desire.”
    She raised a brow. “I will desire you to flog me?”
    The corner of his mouth curled upward. “You will.”
    “I very much doubt it, my lord.”
    His eyes glimmered. “Care to lay wager upon it, Miss
Herwood?”
    “Despite my conviction, I think I had best not.”
    “Then to allay your fears, allow me to propose that if you
do not find this night to be fulfilling, I will offer as recompense the sum of
one hundred pounds.”
    A hundred quid! She salivated at the sum. She could stall
the creditors from repossessing the furniture. Her mother could indulge in jam
and butter upon her toast.
    “And how would you define fulfillment?”
    He trailed his hand down to the swell of her breast. “Not I.
You shall—with your orgasm. The absence of it would mark a night unfulfilled.”
    She gazed down at his hand. One hundred pounds. And she had
but to refrain from spending?
    “You mock me, Lord Rockwell.”
    “I rarely jest on such matters.”
    His hand dipped beneath her décolletage and cradled a
breast. She closed her eyes. His touch was exquisite.
    “Do you make a habit of such outrageous propositions?”
    “Would you believe me if I said I did not?”
    “No.”
    He kissed her lightly upon the neck. “Then why ask?”
    She sighed. Exasperating if not clever man.
    He whipped her around and pressed his mouth full upon hers.
    “Come, I dare you to accept the wager,” he murmured against
her lips.

Chapter Three
     
    The warmth between her legs flared once more, but she forced
her mind to the task. “You have me at a disadvantage. I have but your word that
you will honor both the word of safety and your wager.”
    He pulled back and stared deep into her eyes. “Your dilemma
is understandable. I can only ask that you trust me.”
    Her heart throbbed with excitement and fear. Thriving in a
gaming hell necessitated the constant assessment of character, and her
instincts gave no alarm with Lord Rockwell. She wanted to place herself in his
hands, but she barely knew the man. And yet she had never felt more at ease in
a man’s company.
    A hundred pounds. It was too grand a sum not to take the
risk.
    “Very well, Lord Rockwell, I accept.”
    His smile reached his eyes and she sensed her relief
reflected also in him.
    “I promise you will not rue the hand you lost at vingt-et-un .”
    He led her to a mirror and stood once more behind her. It
was most disconcerting for she knew not what he would do, nor could she read
his countenance.
    “Tell me what arouses you,” he instructed as his hand brushed
the skin above the back of her bodice.
    “You are most forward, Lord Rockwell, and I have no
intention of giving you any assistance in winning your wager.”
    She saw his smile in the mirror.
    “Touché. I will discern the answer nonetheless.”
    He began to unbutton her gown.
    Dialogue could prove a good distraction, she decided. “How
many women have you entertained in this chamber of yours?”
    The answer should dampen her lust.
    “You are most forward, Miss Herwood.”
    She could not help a grin at his response.
    “I have not kept count.”
    “Several?”
    “Define ‘several’.”
    He eased the top of her gown down her arms. It pooled at her
feet. She watched in the mirror as he untied her petticoats next.
    “Four or more?”
    “Or more, certainly.”
    The petticoats fell to the ground. She blushed at the sight
of herself in chemise and corset. He began to unlace her corset without effort.
    “Should not a man of your stature be seeking a wife instead
of indulging in prurient interests?” she asked, averting her eyes from the
mirror.
    “Should not a woman of your situation be seeking a husband
instead of gambling at a gaming hell?” he returned.
    She bristled. “I asked first.”
    “A wife is easy enough to attain. I see no reason to rush.”
    How she wished she could claim the same of a husband!
    “I am earning my dowry, if you will,