Page 43 (1/2)
Chapter One
A Fire
London, 1822
The Marquess of Wescott leaned away before his victim’s fuchsia-pink slipper could connect with his forehead It caught the edge of his gold-blond hair instead, which had long since straggled free of its velvet tie
“Don’t be naughty, Ellie,” he scolded, delivering a fewbackside balanced upon his lap “If you can’t behave yourself, I’ll have to tie you up”
“Oh, you wouldn’t be so cruel, sir,” she cooed, twisting herself upright until she ed one of his wavy locks, not at all intimidated by his stare
“I think we both know I can be considerably crueler” He taunted the buxo in her pain-filled moan
Across the rooers in Berta’s hair, urging her to take his cock deeper in her huled her a off the cane welts he’d made minutes earlier
“If only Lord Townsend was here,between her lips “He’d have been pleased to add a few more stripes to your bottom while you suck me off”
“Ooh” She paused long enough to sier ht up h like?”
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Marlow pushed back his riotous, white-blond hair and favored her with a grin “And Toould love to do it Too bad he’s off pining over someone”
“Pining over who? Some society lady?” Ellie sniffed “Such a faithless customer He hasn’t been here in weeks”