Mistress of Merrivale by Shelley Munro Page A

toward him, all feminine elegance and subtle flirtation. A confident woman. And so far, she seemed to have integrity. His former wife had never understood there were times when honesty achieved more than falsehoods.
    Irritation seared him then, and he forced his mind to Jocelyn. She flirted with her eyes, the sinuous sway of her body. Slowly, she lifted her hands, the graceful rise snaring his attention. She plucked a jeweled comb from her hair and started on the concealed pins. Mesmerized, he watched their removal. Then his gaze met hers and held, the heavy pulsation of sensual awareness humming between them. Jocelyn removed the final one and down the heavy mass toppled.
    His breath caught at the sight. Long fiery locks danced around her shoulders and halfway down her back when she moved closer to his four-poster bed. His hands clenched as he imagined winding the curls around his fingers. They’d feel silky to his touch, and if she knelt in front of him, took his shaft into her mouth…
    A shudder racked his frame, his mind shaping the scenario, his hands gripping her hair, controlling her movement while she sucked his cock. Suddenly his breeches were far too tight. He cleared his throat without taking his attention off her. She sashayed up to him and angled her back for him to unfasten her gown. To his chagrin, tremors shook his hand when he reached to deal with her buttons. He tightened it to a fist and, this time, it held steady when he unclenched his fingers.
    Soon the silk gaped away from her body. Her eyes danced with a provocative note when she glanced over her shoulder.
    He drew a sharp breath. His new wife was a bloody witch, captivating him with a look. “Do you intend to tease me all night?”
    “No, it would be difficult not to taunt myself at the same time.”
    “A double-edge sword.”
    “Exactly.” She beamed at him, making him puff up like an innocent receiving praise, except tonight, he sure as hell didn’t feel childlike. To his relief, she stepped away and let the fabric slide over her hips to puddle at her feet. She plucked the green silk from the floor and draped the gown over the back of a chair.
    Leo couldn’t take his eyes off her. Beautiful. Graceful. Honest. Melburn hadn’t mentioned her teasing nature, but Leo liked her harmless impudence.
    Jocelyn removed frothy petticoats, stepping closer when she required assistance with the lacing of her stays. In a trice, the task was complete and all she wore was her filmy chemise, the emerald necklace and her footwear.
    “Jocelyn, you’re stunning.”
    “Thank you.” Her throaty tone told him her flirtation had taken a toll of her too.
    She planted her pert backside on a chair and bent to take off her shoes. With a playful glance at him, she untied her garters and made a production of rolling her scarlet stockings down her legs. She started to remove her chemise.
    “No, leave that on for the moment.”
    “Will you kiss me now?”
    “And more,” he promised.
    Jocelyn joined him on his bed, and they stared at each other, potential shimmering between them.
    “What do you mean to do with me, my husband?”
    Pure pleasure struck him at her words. “I intend to touch and learn your shape. Kiss you.” Leo cupped her shoulder, savoring the warmth of her smooth flesh. “I want to kiss your lips again, your breasts. By tomorrow morning there won’t be an inch of your body I haven’t kissed or tasted.”
    She licked her lips. “And then what?”
    “I intend to fuck you until this hunger inside me is sated.”
    “Do I get a turn?”
    Interesting, his bluntness and vulgar language didn’t scare her into blushing silence. “Later,” he said, drawing her against him. He intended to start his seduction. He crushed his lips to hers, loving the way she responded immediately. Her hands curled around his neck, and every idea he’d entertained of taking his time flew out the window. Hell, he needed her, and if he didn’t get these breeches off soon