Page 25 of Scandalous Passions

Devil take it, she couldn’t hold back a moment longer. Not with her heart nearly pounding out of her chest, sweat gathering at the nape of her neck, and her cunt soaking wet. Leaning forward, she kissed Marjorie fiercely, plunging her tongue into the younger woman’s mouth while she tormented her tender nipple with alternate rough thumbing and firm pinches, reveling in her ward’s broken cries of pleasure.

Just when Janet was about to taste that sweet pink nipple, a flash of movement in the corner of her eye made her turn her head.

Sir Lachlan!

Standing in the doorway of the solar. Watching them. His usually stoic face revealing confusion, arousal, and dismay all at the same time.

By the saints, she had done everything wrong so far. Including not informing him of Marjorie’s lessons, that they had naught to do with their bedsport.

Moving her mouth to Marjorie’s ear, she murmured, “My dear, it seems you did not close the door as well as you might, and we have an audience. One naughty protector. We should stop.”

But the younger woman gripped her arm, her eyes heavy lidded with desire and yet an underlying desperation as well.

“No.”

Janet hesitated, then nodded. The only way to unravel this tangle she had created was the method she had used on countless occasions: pure brazenness. Idly tweaking Marjorie’s nipple, she turned her head and met their protector’s gaze. “Sir Lachlan. Come in and latch the door behind you.”

Now he looked a little startled, but he obeyed her command. “Yes, my lady.”

“Come here and explain yourself. I do hope you have an excellent reason for interrupting this lesson.”

Sir Lachlan visibly swallowed as he moved toward the chaise, his black gaze attempting to remain on her but darting once, twice to the luscious display of Marjorie’s bared breast with its taut, rosy nipple.

Well, well.

It seemed her pet wasn’t nearly as indifferent to her ward as he appeared to be. This most interesting development would need to be thoroughly investigated.

At once.

…

He had invaded the ladies’ sanctuary, so it was his own fault he’d seen what he should not: the truly erotic sight of Lady Janet and Lady Marjorie kissing on the chaise, of Lady Marjorie holding her own bared breast for her guardian to fondle.

Of course he’d seen women touch each other before. Back in the court of bachelor King James, such antics barely raised an eyebrow when wine flowed like a river. In many a tavern, too, women looking to earn extra coin would perform alluring dances together. But none of those women had ever looked like this. So passionate. So greedy for one another. These two did not play to amuse an audience or feign lust to loosen purse strings. They wanted this touching, no matter what Lady Janet had said about it being a lesson. And God help him, even though being replaced so soon hurt like an arrow piercing his flesh, he couldn’t help but stare at the two of them, at Lady Marjorie’s breast, which was a large creamy mound of perfection tipped with a swollen nipple dark pink from Lady Janet’s attentions. Couldn’t help the hardening of his wretched cock.

“Ladies,” he said hoarsely, helplessly, when really he should have turned on his boot heel and gone, for he could not bear to witness the woman he loved falling in love with another.

Lady Janet raised an imperious brow. “You did not answer me properly. I asked you to explain your reason for interrupting this lesson, my Beast.”

Now he was even more confused. Her words were brisk, as though she was irritated, and yet there was warmth in her gaze. And she’d called him “my Beast.”

“Uh,” he said, fumbling for the right words and failing utterly. “Forgive me. I did not know…a lesson?”

Lady Janet rose from the chaise and walked to him, then rested her hand on his chest in a gesture that both soothed and staked a claim, and his shoulders relaxed a little.

“At the king’s pleasure, Marjorie will be wed to a stranger,” she said calmly. “As you know, she was imprisoned in a strict convent most of her life, so she has never had the opportunity to meet young lads. She’s never been kissed. Never been touched. I cannot change her past, but I can prepare her for the future. Instruct her in the ways of the marriage bed so that she is not frightened by it, here in a place that is both safe and discreet.”

Put in such a way, it almost made sense. His mother probably would have championed something similar; he’d overheard her lecturing his father on many occasions about his stubborn stance on the role of young women in the clan and their lack of knowledge on worldly matters. Then she’d been killed, and any hope of his father adopting her startling and modern ideas had died with her.

Yet he couldn’t halt the heartfelt words that sprang to his lips. “I am not…replaced?”

Lady Janet frowned. “I am a forthright woman. If I no longer wish to bed you, I will say it to your face. As you are free to tell me. And I most certainly desire to have you in my bed. So tell me, Sir Lachlan, are you going to continue on your merry way, or…”

“Or?” he prompted, his heart thundering in his chest.

A wicked smile curved her lips, one that made his cock throb. “Or assist me with my lesson?”

Lady Marjorie gasped, but her eyes were bright with curiosity as she shifted on the chaise. “Assist…how?”