Page 80 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

William continued chattering as he walked Stephen to his chamber. On any other evening, Stephen would find the man excellent company. But tonight, he needed to seek out Madalene before he spent in his trousers.

Finally, William said goodnight, and Stephen closed the door to his room. He waited as long as his patience allowed, perchance three minutes? Then opened his door. The hall was empty, so he bustled to Madalene.

He didn’t bother knocking. Barging in, he stopped short and gawked.

Madalene lay on her side. Her alluring pose highlighted her endowments —specifically, the curvy line from her bosom to her hip. The fire in the hearth burned bright and the candles flickered, illuminating perky nipples poking through her nightdress. The dark curls at her apex were visible through the white fabric. Lord Almighty!

“What took you so long?” she asked, her smile devilish.

“A story about Georgiana and Lady trying to bake a mincemeat pie.” He ripped off his cravat as he prowled toward her.

“Mmm,mincemeat.” Her tongue darted across her lips.

Since she enjoyed watching, he’d entertain her. That is, if he didn’t lose control and attack her again. He dropped into a chair and made a show of taking off his boots and stockings. His siren watched, her gaze lecherous.

“You are taking too long. Get over here,” she demanded.

Conjuring discipline, he stood slowly, set his pistol on the chair, and removed layers of coats. Then, as if fighting his way through a wall of honey, he sauntered to her. Her heated gaze never left his eyes.

“On your back,” she growled.

To the devil with taking his time and teasing her. His cock was about to split his damn trousers. He fell backward, landing with athunkin the middle of the mattress.

“I am all yours,” he said.

Leaning over him, she made quick work of his falls. His prick jerked free, practically slapping her in the face.

“Well, good eve,” she said, addressing his cock as if it was a long-lost friend.

Not that he minded in the least.

She threw one leg over his hips to straddle him. Then she sank herself deep.

He searched for something filthy to say that might make a blush travel up her neck and pinken her cheeks, settling on, “You’re so damn wet.”

Her breath hitched. Then came the flush. Her breasts bounced beneath the fabric and spilled out over his palms as she rode him.

He slid his hands from her breasts to her hips. Encouraging her to choose their pace, he helped guide her in and out. “That’s it,” he cooed, “use my body.”

A self-satisfied smile tugged at her lips as she performed tight pelvic movements that morphed into full-body undulations. By Jove, she was beautiful. All disheveled hair and eyes glazed over with passion. Delirious. Like a wild nymph or fairy.

A crackling noise distracted him. Someone was outside the room. He fought through his lust-haze to listen. There was more than one person out there, and they weren’t moving.

“Madalene,” he whispered.

She continued to ride him, her undulations coming faster.

He needed to ignore the tingling in his balls because his instincts screamedDanger!

“Madalene,” he said a bit louder. However, it was useless because she was in the throes of passion.

He sniffed. Pungent spices and cat piss. He was about to be gutted as Madalene came apart on top of him.

“Stephen,” she whimpered. Her legs quaked, her chest arched forward, and her head flew back.

Her body still shuddered as he peeled her from him and sat up.

Dazed, she blinked. “Is something wrong?”