Maid for Scandal Read Online Free Page B

chilled my dear. Let me warm you.”
    Before she could say that the hearth would be heating the room soon, he pulled her against him. She sprawled against his chest in a most unbecoming way.
    “Are you comfortable?” he asked.
    “Actually, I’d rather—”
    “Let’s try this. You sit atop me.”
    “I… what?”
    “Astride.”
    She stared at him. What he was suggesting was outrageous!
    Then again, there was so much she didn’t know about intimate relations. He had said he would show her, so she must be willing to learn. This was her future husband, after all. Slowly, she sat up.
    “Very good,” he said. “Yes, that’s it. Lift your dress and climb on me. One leg to either side.”
    She lifted her skirts, exposing her legs most shockingly. “Like this?” It did not seem at all the thing.
    “Yes, yes, just so. Now slide forward a bit… ahh.”
    There was an odd lump beneath the covers, just where she was sitting. Did the poor man have some sort of condition?
    “Are you well?” she asked. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
    “No, not at all. You’re performing your duties most excellently.”
    She adjusted her skirts, trying to cover herself, but he shook his head.
    “Let me see you, Anna. You’re lovely—no need to hide from me.”
    She supposed it was true. A husband and wife had nothing to conceal from one another, and certainly not once they were sharing the same bed. Giles was merely getting an early peek.
    He folded her skirts back, until her legs were entirely bared. Smiling, he began to run his hands up and down her thighs. Each stroke ended closer to the edge of her drawers, where a peculiar, throbbing heat was beginning to build.
     “You’ve shapely legs,” he said. “Let me see your arms.”
    Feeling vaguely like a horse being assessed by a buyer, she pushed her sleeves up and held her arms out for his inspection. “Here they are.”
    “No, no.” He laughed. “I must view your entire arm. Take your dress off from the shoulder.”
    It was a very improper command. Then again, everything here was improper: she was alone with him, in his bed, sitting atop him, with her legs exposed. Revealing her shoulders certainly could not make matters any worse. She pushed down the sudden impulse to hop off the bed and flee the room.
    Slowly, she pulled down one shoulder of her dress and slipped her arm free, then repeated the action on the other side. She had not been able to bear the cloth of her maid’s costume against her bare skin and had, perhaps unwisely, brought her finely embroidered shift. She was careful to don it only when Martha’s back was turned. No one would see it beneath her dress. No one except Giles. She clutched her dress, so that it would not slip down.
    “Still so modest?” He shook his head. “It won’t do. Lift your arms above your head.”
    “But… my dress will fall.”
    “Exactly.” His smile was predatory.
    It was shocking , to hear him speak so. To have his avid gaze fastened on her, as if she were a bon-bon ready to be devoured. True, he had a reputation as a rake, but until now she had not understood what that meant. But this was Giles, who had smuggled her love notes and arranged to meet with her secretly. She should not feel so reluctant. After all, weren’t they on the verge of an understanding?
    Unclasping her fingers, she let the dress fall, then lifted her arms. He made a low sound in his throat, his eyes moving to her breasts.
    Then his hands went there as well, and she nearly stopped breathing. The thin fabric of her shift did little to protect her from the heat of his touch. He cupped her, his palms brushing against her nipples. Her breasts tightened, pressing against the cloth, and he took the tips in his fingers. Fiery sensations sped through her as he fondled her. He began moving beneath her, rocking her up and down, while his breath came faster. Faster.
    She felt giddy. The lump beneath the covers rubbed against her in a strangely satisfying way.