The Sins of Nightsong. V. J. Banis

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She wanted to writhe and twist and moan under his onslaught. Only too easily did she recall how he’d entered her, made her seethe with desire and wanton passion as he took her forcefully, manfully, pounding into her unmercifully, knowing her need matched his own.

      “Lydia,” he sighed. “Isn’t there somewhere we can be alone? It’s been too long,” he reminded her.

      “You mustn’t talk like this, Peter. People are looking at us.”

      “Let them.” He reached for her hand but she snatched it away. “I adore you. And I promise that as soon as MacNair Cosmetics is completely on its feet again I intend divorcing Lorna so we can marry.”

      “Divorce! Oh, Peter, no. You can’t. I’ve just finished reminding you of all the scandal we’ve already caused. My quiet, legal dissolution of my Chinese marriage, discreetly as it was handled, is still gossiped about in some circles. You know how everyone feels about out-and-out divorce. It would ruin not only our reputations but our businesses as well. There is too much working against me now, Peter. I’d never permit you to divorce Lorna for my sake.”

      He looked crestfallen. “You don’t love me anymore, is that what you are trying to say?”

      “I will not be named co-respondent in any divorce action,” she said, avoiding his question. “Your wife despises me as it is. I wouldn’t want your children to despise me as well.” She saw his hurt. “Dear Peter. I am more than flattered that you’d even consider such a drastic notion. However, if you won’t be sensible then I must be.”

      Peter’s broad shoulders sagged. “You make it all seem so hopeless.”

      “Let us allow things to go on the way they are, Peter. Time has a way of solving even the worst of situations.”

      She noticed the sensual curve of his lips as he smiled gently. A passionate glint lit his expression. “On one condition,” he said.

      “And what is that?” She knew what he would ask and only stood there trembling with anticipation.

      “I must have you tonight. I must,” he said urgently.

      “Yes,” she breathed. She glanced around. “I’ve been neglecting my guests. Stay late, Peter. You can drive me home.” She gave his hand a little squeeze and moved off across the room. She caught Raymond’s eye and motioned him to her. “I believe it’s time we cut the cake.”

      She could feel Peter watching her. All she wanted was for the party to be over so she could be in his arms.

      CHAPTER SIX

      “We seem to have spent a lot of time riding in carriages,” Peter said as he held her hand in his, listening to the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on the cobblestones. “I remember that mad dash to the waterfront the first time April and David tried to elope.”

      “And the night I fled from Walter Hanover when he tried to blackmail me into marrying him.”

      “That carriage ride didn’t end the way I had hoped.”

      Lydia laughed. “Truthfully, I wanted to ask you in, but you were so certain I couldn’t resist you that I had to show you I could.”

      “And denied both of us one of the few pleasures we’ve had together.”

      Inside the mansion they were too consumed with their own needs to bother with preliminaries. Peter looked around the handsome drawing room and nodded toward the archway that he knew led to Lydia’s downstairs sitting and bed rooms. “You haven’t lived in a one-level Chinese house in years and yet you still persist on sleeping on the ground floor.”

      “The children and their nurse have the run of the upper floors. It gives us both the privacy we all enjoy.”

      “Children,” he mused, then shook his head. “I never could understand how April could abandon Caroline and Marcus. They should be pretty big by now.”

      “Caroline is six. Marcus is five, but believes himself to be quite the big man, always bossing Caroline about. A lot like his father,” she said.

      Peter nodded, thinking she was referring to Raymond.

      Lydia smiled to herself. She wondered if one day she’d tell Peter of their son, then thought of what she’d told him at the party, that time solved everything.

      “A nightcap?” she asked.

      “I don’t need anything to stimulate me,” he answered, taking her in his arms. He lifted her easily and carried her through the sitting room into her sleeping chamber beyond.

      “Peter,” she moaned after his lips left hers. She clung to him with brazen abandon. “It has been a long time, hasn’t it?”

      He didn’t answer but kissed her again more passionately. “Let’s get out of these clothes.”

      “You make me feel so shameless,” she said as she let him undress her.

      “You are shameless,” he said, smiling. “Much as you don’t want to be.”

      Lydia found herself naked before him as Peter scrambled to get out of his evening clothes. She liked to watch him undress, moving with the gracefulness of a performer, enticingly sexual, provocatively sensual.

      Moments later they lay together, their bodies molded to one another, losing themselves in their love, their ardent need for physical release. The hard impatience of his shaft pressed against her thigh as his kisses seared her lips, then her throat, her breasts.

      Eagerly she allowed his knees to part her creamy, warm thighs, exposing her vulnerability. His hands moved deliciously over her nakedness, sending shivers through her entire body.

      “Peter,” she moaned as he poised over her, adjusting his position. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his hardness, reveling in the smooth, satiny feeling of his lust.

      He stayed poised, thrilled by her touch, then moved forward as she guided him into her. As he penetrated the wet warmth of her being his mouth covered hers, silencing her moans of ecstasy.

      Peter moved slowly, gently, luring her into agonizing rapture, making her body heave and thrash as she arched upward to meet his slow, then more forceful thrusts. His hands caressed her. His mouth scorched her skin as his attack became more urgent, almost brutal.

      “Peter,” she moaned under his mouth.

      “I adore you.”

      She felt his movements become quicker, more violent, and she welcomed the harshness of his attack, wanting it to hurt so she would always remember.

      Lydia let her hands slip down his back and felt the tensing and untensing of his muscles, the exciting curve of his buttocks as she urged him on.

      Her movements matched his as they began building toward a mutual climax. A hot, searing flame engulfed her loins as Peter brought her to complete fulfillment.

      They floated in soft, limitless space until their breathing began to return to normal. Lydia’s entire body was weak and limp as Peter raised himself and rolled onto his back. Then he took her lovingly in his arms and kissed

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