Danielle Dulac has just been sacked after spurning her employer’s lecherous advances. Penniless and without references, she is desperate to acquire the position of governess at Esterly House on the bleak Yorkshire moors. When the mail coach slides into a ditch in the middle of a blizzard, she is forced to seek shelter at the nearest house, Blackmoor Hall.
But visitors are not welcome at Blackmoor Hall and she gets sent to the stables to shelter from the storm. She is jerked out of sound slumber by a snow-blasted horse bursting into the stall, practically trampling her beneath his slashing hooves.
Anthony Markham, the Duke of Blackmoor, has just returned home after six months of dissolute living in London. He is surly, sarcastic, enigmatic, and hostile. And the most sensuous man Danielle has ever met. The attraction between them is instantaneous, combustible…and forbidden. Though a descendant of French nobility, Danielle is still a mere governess and Anthony Markham is a Duke.
When the position at Esterly House falls through, she has nowhere to go and faces a bleak future. To her shock, it’s Anthony Markham who comes to her rescue, offering her a position as governess to his four-year-old son, Geoffrey. Against her better judgment, she accepts.
She soon discovers that the Master of Blackmoor is haunted by a dark and tragic past filled with lies, betrayal and death. Unfortunately, the past is not over. Evil stalks Blackmoor Hall. The danger is escalating and all the clues point to the Duke himself.
As the passion between Anthony and Danielle rages out of control, so does the peril they face. Will they solve this mystery in time? Or will it wind up destroying them both?
“I am going to worship you,” he went on, his voice a mere wisp of sound. “I am going to worship every part of your body with every part of mine. I am going to give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.”
Unable to speak, she just nodded, swallowing past the sudden constriction in her throat as another tide of fluid gushed out into her sex. She had never been this aroused, this wet, this needy and if he didn’t make love to her soon, she would explode.
“Anthony—” The word was ripped from her throat.
Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he turned her and led her over to her bed, where he lifted her in his arms and laid her carefully down. Placing one knee on the edge of the mattress, he laid down beside her, turning onto his right side to face her. Propping himself up on his elbow, he rested his head on his right hand while his left hand reached out to play with her breast, stroking, plumping, kneading. Idly plucking at her nipple with his fingers, he flicked his thumb across the knotted peak.
With a low moan, she arched her back, pushing herself upward into his hand.
“Your breasts are so sweet,” he murmured. “So luscious.” From her breast, his hand slid down her ribcage, over her flat stomach, to her mons. Spearing his fingers through her crisp, curly hairs, he slid them into her folds, unerringly finding her clitoris with his index finger and beginning a circling motion.
The breath shuddered from her lungs and her hips gyrated, lifting off the bed and seeking more of his touch.
She was so aroused that it wasn’t long before she was climbing up, up, up, soaring to the peak. And when her orgasm exploded inside her, she cried out, her inner muscles contracting in endless spasms of pleasure. While she was still climaxing, he slid down the bed and rolled over on his belly. Placing his hands beneath her knees, he spread her legs apart and positioned himself with his head at the juncture between her thighs. He looked up at her, his eyes glazed with lust as he parted her outer lips with his thumbs and gazed at her wet slit.
“Anthony.” She watched as he bent his head to her. At the first flick of his tongue across her clit, she shrieked, arching her back, bucking her hips up toward his face, as trilling cries of pleasure erupted from her throat. Wrapping his arms round her thighs, he anchored her in place as he worked her. Blindly reaching for him, her hands clenched in his hair as he lashed her with his tongue, bringing her to another swift orgasm. An orgasm he prolonged by continuing the movements of his tongue against that super-sensitive little pearl, coaxing two more wrenching climaxes from her exhausted body.
After the last orgasmic wave shuddered through her, she just lay there, a delicious languor stealing over her. She had never experienced such pleasure before. Had never even known it was possible to feel such pleasure. When she was finally able to open her eyes and look at him, he was smiling. He kissed her belly as his fingers danced around her wet, slippery folds, creating a low, steady buzz of new sensation.
Other Books by Julie Shelton
(Links go to Amazon)
Passion’s Dream (Book 1)
Passion’s Fury (Book 2)
Passion’s Hope (Book 3)
Passion’s Triumph (Book 4)
Passion’s Magic (Book 5)
The Alpha Chronicles AKA Loving Sarah Series
Julie Shelton writing as A.J. Steele
Mastering the Professor Series
Taken in Her Office (Book 1)
Taken on the Dinner Table (Book 2)
Training to be Taken (Book 3)
Taken to the Edge (Book 4)
Taken in Public (Book 5)