From the castle gates poured one hundred fierce warriors. They were clad in armor so black it reflected no light, and they shouted their war cries so loudly the very air trembled. They charged at Longsword. You might think such a show of force would send a mere mortal running, but not he. Longsword stood firm and true and swung his heavy sword. His blade glinted in the sun, the sweat streamed from his broad brow, and the heads of the magical army fell like leaves in autumn. For an hour he fought, and at the end of that hour, not a black warrior still lived….
—from Longsword
“And he actually threatened to bed you again?” Lottie asked the next afternoon, looking more animated than she had for some days now.
“Not in so many words,” Beatrice said slowly. “But the implication was there, certainly.”
Both ladies were in Lottie’s carriage, riding toward a salon at Mrs. Postlethwaite’s residence.
“How very thrilling!” Lottie exclaimed. “It’s like an awful play.”
“But it isn’t an awful play,” Beatrice replied morosely. “It’s my life. Oh, what am I to do, Lottie? I gave myself to him.”
“Oh, gave! How can one give oneself to a man, I ask you?”
Beatrice knit her brows. “I don’t know what else to call it. I’m no longer a virgin.”
“And what of it?” Lottie asked spiritedly. “It’s only a bit of blood and an act of five minutes or so—”
“Rather more than five minutes,” Beatrice muttered, blushing.
Lottie waved aside her friend’s comment. “In any case, I don’t think it ought to decide your entire life.”
“But what if I’m pregnant?”
“Highly unlikely after just the one time.”
“Yes, but—”
“And besides, he definitely took advantage of you. I mean, right after you’d learned about poor Jeremy! It wasn’t at all sporting. I don’t think it ought to count, really.”
Beatrice frowned, unsure what Lottie meant by “count.”
“See here,” Lottie continued, oblivious. “It’ll be at least a couple of months until you’re certain. Although, I have heard of ladies who never knew until the moment they were holding a squirming baby in their arms.”
Beatrice moaned.
“But, in any case,” Lottie said hastily, “there’s no need to make a decision right now. Just because the man has taken your virginity doesn’t mean he should own your entire life. What if you decide to take other lovers?”
“But I don’t want other lovers.”
“After all, why tie yourself to one man? You could be a dashing and scandalous courtesan!”
dn’t pretend shock. “Not yet.”
“But why not?” She widened her legs in invitation. She could feel that part of him, pressing against her thigh. “Isn’t that what comes next? Isn’t that what you want?”
“Not yet,” he said maddeningly, and placed his mouth against hers again. But this time he didn’t stay there. He caressed her with his open mouth, with his soft lips, as he trailed downward over her throat. He licked the upper slope of her breast and then took the nipple in his mouth.
She gasped. That small point flamed with pleasure, each strong suck a pull that tugged at her center. She arched, clutching at his head, feeling his shorn bristles beneath her palms.
He shifted, licking his way to her other breast, and tasted that nipple as well. At the same time, his thigh still pressed against her.
She arched up. “Oh, please, now.”
“Not yet,” he whispered, his breath blowing over her wet, sensitive nipple.
He raised himself on straight arms and brought both legs between hers. She was spread wide now, eager and waiting for the inevitable conclusion to this.