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Elizabeth Hoyt

Elizabeth Hoyt Books

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Duke of Sin

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Duke of Desire

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Dearest Rogue

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“Oh, Séraphine," he purred, pushing his nose close to her jaw to inhale her righteous scent. "Who do you suppose sits in Parliament? Who makes the laws, runs the government of this great and lofty nation, hmm?" She hadn't bathed this morning, he could tell, and she smelled of herself: woman, sweat, sex. He licked across her cheek, tasting salt and pure saint, to her mouth. He bit her lips. Once, twice, a third time, wanting, craving.”

DesireSeductiveScentsVal NapierBridget And Val
Book:Duke of Sin
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“One can live without books. Birds live. Cats live. Even the best of dogs live. But only humans can soar on the words from a book. Stories fling us high into the clouds with imagination. Poems make hearts weep with emotion. Science stuns the mind with wonder." She let her hands fall to her lap. "Without the stimulation of literature, you can live, yes. But your soul will be earthbound. A clod without imagination." "I..." He blinked as if taken aback for just an instant before assuming his usual haughty expression. "I assure you, my lady, I live perfectly well without books." "No." She shook her head, pitying him, this severe man who thought he wanted for nothing. "No. You breathe and you move, but inside, in your mind, there is only gray. You don't know what it is to soar.”

ImaginationSoarElspeth De MorayElsie And JulianLiterature Forever
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
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“Why?” he whispered as he leaned over her, supported on one arm. “Why must ye be the one that haunts me dreams? I’ve seen ye weepin’ night after bloody night since the day I sent ye from me palace with yer dress half undone. If I had it to do over again, I’d cut me own right hand off rather than hurt ye so. Will ye never be able to forgive me, Silence love?” “I already have,” she replied, cradling his cheek in her hand. “Long, long ago.”

SilenceMickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“She swallowed, watching as the servants and Harry and Bert trooped out of the room. Lad, apparently not the brightest dog in the world, sat down next to Mickey O’Connor and leaned against his leg. Mr. O’Connor looked at the dog, looked at the damp spot growing on his breeches where the dog was leaning, and sighed. “I find me life is not as quiet as it used to be afore ye came to me palace, Mrs. Hollingbrook.” Silence lifted her chin. “You’re a pirate, Mr. O’Connor. I cannot believe your life was ever very quiet.” He gave her an ironic look. “Aye, amazin’, isn’t it? Yet since yer arrival me servants no longer obey me and I return home to find me kitchen flooded.” He crossed to a cupboard and took down a china teapot, a tin of tea, and a teacup. “And me dog smells like a whorehouse.” Silence glanced guiltily at Lad. “The only soap we could find was rose scented.”

SilenceMickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous DesiresLad The Dog
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“She opened her mouth wide in a silent scream and his release caught him, hard and fast as he kissed her openmouthed. He tore his mouth from hers and shouted his triumph. She was his, now and forevermore, until the end of time, until the seas ran dry and man no longer roamed the earth, amen. His and only his. She slumped against him, the scent of their passion musky in the night air. “Sleep,” he murmured to her, and held her against himself, his cock still buried deep. She was caught and he had no intention of ever letting her go.”

SilenceMickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous DesiresOh Damn Hawt
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“Humph.” She peered down suspiciously as he parted the leaves to reveal the choke. “That doesn’t look very tasty.” “That’s because it isn’t,” he said. “Pay heed: the artichoke is a shy vegetable. She covers herself in spine-tipped leaves that must be carefully peeled away, and underneath shields her treasure with a barricade o’ soft needles. They must be tenderly, but firmly, scraped aside. Ye must be bold, for if yer not, she’ll never reveal her soft heart.” He finished cutting away the thistles and placed the small, tender heart on the center of her plate. She wrinkled her nose. “That’s it? But it’s so small.” “Ah, and d’ye judge a thing solely upon size alone?” She made a choking sound.”

SilenceMickeyScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“There, there, sweetin’,” he murmured into her hair. “He loved me, he truly did,” she gasped. “I know he did,” Michael said. “And I loved him.” “Mm-hmm.” She raised her head, glaring angrily. “You don’t even believe in love. Why are you agreeing with me?” He laughed. “Because”—he leaned down and licked at the tears on her cheeks, his lips brushing softly against her sensitive skin as he spoke, “ye’ve bewitched and bespelled me, my sweet Silence, didn’t ye know? I’ll agree that the sky is pink, that the moon is made o’ marzipan and sugared raisins, and that mermaids swim the muddy waters o’ the Thames, if ye’ll only stop weepin’. Me chest breaks apart and gapes wide open when I see tears in yer pretty eyes. Me lungs, me liver, and me heart cannot stand to be thus exposed.” She stopped breathing. She simply inhaled and stopped, looking at him in wonder. His lips were quirked in a mocking smile, but his eyes—his fathomless black eyes—seemed to hold a great pain as if his strong chest really had been split open.”

SilenceMickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“Silence cleared her throat, fearful her voice would come out a croak. “Is she asleep?” He blinked as if he, too, were waking from a dream, and glanced down at Mary Darling. “Aye, I’m a-thinkin’ she is—she’s stopped fussin’ at me.” Silence felt a huge smile of relief spread over her face. “She was fussing? Oh, how wonderful!” He shot her a look, one eyebrow arching. “Ye’ve taught the child to bully me, too, now?” “Oh, no,” she said hastily, embarrassed. Did he really think she bullied him? What a silly notion!”

SilenceMickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“Silence rose and crossed to the connecting door and knocked. The door was opened almost at once. Michael leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, a wicked smile playing about his sensuous lips. He was so very big this close—every time it surprised her and made her breathless. “Well, now, and when did ye decide to start knockin’ at me door?” Silence fought to keep her face from flaming as she remembered the last time she’d peeked through Michael’s door. She swallowed. “We’re bored.” “Is that so?” Michael glanced down. Silence followed his gaze and saw that Mary had crawled over to investigate. The baby grabbed a handful of her skirt and stood up. She kept one hand on Silence’s skirt and popped two fingers from the other into her mouth as she stared solemnly at Michael. “She looks a rare treat,” Michael said softly, watching the toddler. Silence smiled down at Mary. “She does indeed.” She glanced up and her heart squeezed at the gentle look on Michael’s face. As if she understood she was the subject of conversation, Mary lifted her arms—to Michael. “Up!” Michael arched an eyebrow. “Mouthy little thing, ain’t she?” But he bent and lifted the toddler.”

SilenceMickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“As I said, I don’t expect you to understand—” “And I don’t,” he cut in. “Ye ask how I can live a life that I know will end with the hangman’s noose. Well, at least I am alive. Ye might as well have climbed inside yer husband’s coffin and let yerself be buried with his corpse.” Her hand flashed out before she’d thought about it, the smack against his cheek loud in the little courtyard. Silence had her eyes locked with Michael’s, her chest rising and falling swiftly, but she was aware that Bert and Harry had looked up. Even Mary and Lad had paused in their play. Without taking his gaze from hers, Michael reached out and grasped her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed the center of her palm. He looked at her, her hand still at his lips. “Don’t take to yer grave afore yer time, Silence, m’love.”

SilenceMickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“He sat and looked at her. “How is Mary Darling?” “Fast asleep after playing and having a bath,” she said. “The nursery is lovely.” “I’m glad you like it.” “Rose and Annie are obviously practiced nursemaids, and what is even better, they seem to like Mary, and she them.” He grunted. “It would take a hard heart to turn away from my Mary Darling.” A smile curved the corners of her lips. “You didn’t seem too enamored of her when you first met.” “She has a forceful personality, as do I. We just took a bit to get to know one another.”

SilenceMickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“I must be getting back to my rooms,” Silence said and stood. Mick frowned with displeasure. “Why?” “Because of Mary Darling.” He shrugged. “One o’ the maids is watchin’ her.” “But if Mary wakes she’ll want me.” “Why?” he asked again, biting into a sweetmeat. This discussion wasn’t to his fancy, but sparring with her was. “Because,” she said slowly, looking at him as if he were lack-witted, “she’s only a baby and she loves me.” “Babies,” Mick pronounced, “are a great trouble.” She shook her head, not bothering to reply this time, and started marching to the door.”

SilenceMickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“Where are we going?” she asked. “Mr. Durbin’s sheep have begun to lamb, and I wanted to see how the ewes are doing.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose I should have told you about today’s outing earlier.” Anna kept her eyes straight ahead and made a noncommittal sound. He coughed. “I might’ve, had you not left so precipitously yesterday afternoon.” She arched a brow but did not reply. There was a lengthy lull broken only by the dog’s eager yelp as he flushed a rabbit from the hedge along the lane. Then the earl tried again. “I’ve heard some people say my temper is rather . . .” He paused, apparently searching for a word. Anna helped him. “Savage?” He squinted at her. “Ferocious?” He frowned and opened his mouth. She was quicker. “Barbaric?” He cut her off before she could add to her list. “Yes, well, let us simply say that it intimidates some people.” He hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to intimidate you, Mrs. Wren.” “You don’t.”

AnnaElizabeth HoytEdwardRaven Prince
Book:The Raven Prince
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“He looked up. “Is it time already?” She nodded. He rose and waited as she gathered her things. The dog followed them out the door, but then he bounded down the stairs to the drive. The animal sniffed intently at something on the ground and then rolled, happily rubbing his head and neck in whatever it was. Lord Swartingham sighed. “I’ll have one of the stable boys wash him before he enters the Abbey again.” “Mmm,” Anna murmured thoughtfully. “What do you think of ‘Adonis’?” He gave her a look so full of incredulous horror that she was hard-pressed not to laugh. “No, I suppose not,” she murmured.”

AnnaElizabeth HoytEdwardRaven Prince
Book:The Raven Prince
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“Had she not nursed him with her own hands? Had she not suckled his tongue so ardently? He'd give her time- a day or so only- and then he would invite her again to wait upon him. He'd slide close behind her, whisper scandalous words into her mobcap-sheltered ear, and remind her of all the things she tried so hard to hide beneath black wool and starched linen. And then... oh, and then, he'd see if his little housekeeper truly burned at her core. Patience. He could be patient when the occasion called for it, and this one certainly did. She'd come back to him, even with his true face revealed. She only needed time. So.”

SeductionSexual DesireVal NapierBridget Crumb
Book:Duke of Sin
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“Do you remember those roses that Caitriona used to have in her garden? The great, puffy ones that have layers of petals that open when they bloom?" Elspeth nodded. Freya turned her glass thoughtfully. "Imagine that the outer petals of the rose are all of society--- everyone you don't know. And that the center where the pistil lies is you." "I can never remember which part the pistil is," Elspeth confessed. Freya gave her a look. "How many times did Caitriona explain this to you? The pistil is the part in the center that becomes the rose hip when it's pollinated." Her sister set aside her drink and cupped her hands together. "These are the outside of the rose, the petals that guard against the world that doesn't know you at all." She slowly opened her fingers. "Inside are more petals---they represent your acquaintances. The people whom you greet on the street or whom you might talk to at a ball. They know you, but they probably couldn't tell you that strawberry tart is your favorite pudding." "Ohhh," Elspeth said, "I'm beginning to see." Though she still wasn't sure how the rose pertained to love. "I hope so," Freya said. "But remember that there are even more petals beneath those." She let her hands drop as she smiled at Elspeth ruefully. "I can't demonstrate with my hands, so imagine that rose with all the petals curled each within each other. The third layer are your closest friends and family. The people you live with. The people you grew up with. They know you better than the outer two groups of petals, don't they?" Elspeth nodded. Rings within rings, each smaller than the last, each closer to oneself. "These people know you very well," Freya said. "They know what you like and dislike, they know the type of person you are. But there's a last ring." She wrinkled her nose. "No, not a ring. Perhaps the stamen sitting next to your pistil at the very center of the rose." For some reason, her cheeks pinked as she smiled privately. "That is the person who knows your mind and your soul and your heart.”

True LoveLayersRosesElspeth De MoraySisterly AdviceClose To Your Heart
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
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“Oh," said her husband, sounding deeply pleased at something he'd read in his letter. "What?" Bridget sat up, inadvertently spilling several drops of honey on her breast. Sadly, she succumbed to her husband's fondness for nudity soon after their marriage. Valentine glanced up, but his gaze was immediately drawn to the honey slowly dripping down her breast. "Val..." Bridget moved to scoop the honey up with her finger. His hand darted out, catching hers. "Oh, don't," he breathed, leaning over her, forcing her flat on her back. He bent, closing his azure eyes, and licked her breast almost reverently. She shuddered. "It's the middle of the day," she whispered. His eyes opened, wicked and amused. "I know. Your favorite." She smiled up at him, threading her fingers through his golden hair. "I love you." "And I love you," he murmured against her lips, before taking her mouth hard and possessively. Their letters fell to the floor, abandoned, but Bridget didn't care at all. She was with her true love and the world outside could wait.”

True LoveVal NapierBridget And ValBridget Crumb
Book:Duke of Sin
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“Late that afternoon Raphael stood at the window of his study, looking out over the back of his garden. He could see small blue flowers blooming along the gravel paths, but for the life of him he could not recall what their name was. Somehow he knew that Iris would be able to name the tiny blue flowers. He pushed the thought aside. He'd lived over thirty years without Iris in his life and never felt the lack. Yet now she was gone merely hours and he was gazing out the window, mooning after her. He could shove her from his mind. He must shove her from his mind. But he still saw her tearstained face. Heard her pleading with him. Remembered her saying, "I love you." He closed his eyes. She was haunting him. It was as if she were in his blood now, a part of him as surely as the veins running under his skin, the lungs that let him breathe air. She'd permeated him until he could no more separate her from himself than tear the heart from his body. She was essential to his life.”

True LoveIris And RaphaelIris De Chartres
Book:Duke of Desire
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“He loved her, he knew that now. 'That' was what that longing, this never-ending want was. How she believed in him- despite all that had happened, despite all that he was- he did not know, but he was grateful. He angled his head, taking her sweet lips with his, drinking her succor, her faith in him. She was his light, his hope, guiding the way out of the depths of his Stygian despair. "Iris," he murmured against her wet lips, "my radiant wife, my love, my life. I promise I will try to live up to your belief in me. I do not think I can do otherwise, for I would repine and die were I to leave you. I would be blind and alone, howling in the darkness. I would go mad without you." He captured her mouth again, forcing her lips open, sliding his tongue into her, claiming her as his own. Dark to light.”

True LoveDark And LightIris And Raphael
Book:Duke of Desire
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“Iris gasped. Dyemore's mouth burned. Almost his entire weight had sagged against her- and he wasn't a small man- but it was the kiss that most startled her. He... She could taste him, the wine he must've drunk this morning, the scent of smoke in his hair, drifting about her face, the heat rolling off him in thick waves. He was so overwhelmingly large, so excruciatingly masculine. She'd been married. She'd been kissed before- of course she had- but it hadn't been like this. Nothing like this. It was as if everything that made her female was being awakened and called forth by everything male in him.”

KissIris And Raphael
Book:Duke of Desire
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“When you’ve tired of me,” she said softly, precisely, “Apollo will still be my brother. Will still be there for me.” “I’ll never tire of you,” he said, knowing with every thread of his soul that he spoke the absolute truth. “Then prove it.” He knew what she asked with such an open and vulnerable face. Something within him shriveled and died... he’d been on the rack too long for a penance he wasn’t sure he could ever entirely pay. “You know…” His voice was hoarse, the croaking of a dying man. He licked his lips. “You know why I cannot.”

LoveChoicesAngst
Book:Duke of Midnight
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“They were already out of her lands, and in another day Yorkshire would be behind them altogether. By the end of the week she'd be in London, resuming her life as if this trip had never happened. Three or four months from now, Harry, acting as her land steward, might write to ask if she wanted him to present his report on her lands in person. And she, having just returned from another soiree, might turn the letter over in her hand and muse, Harry Pye. Why, I once lay in his arms. I looked up into his illuminated face as he joined his flesh with mine, and I was alive. She might toss the letter on her desk and think, But that was so long ago now and in a different place. Perhaps it was only a dream. She might think that. George closed her eyes. Somehow she knew that there would never come a day when Harry Pye was not her first memory when she woke and her last thought as she drifted into sleep. She would remember him all the days of her life. Remember and regret.”

RememberLossRegretGeorgeHarryGeorgina
Book:The Leopard Prince
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“His heart stilled at the mere thought of her hurting herself. 'He was a fool.' Of course this debate harkened back to her recent capture. To her near rape. What she must have thought when she'd been kidnapped? When she'd been hooded and dragged before the Lords of Chaos and made to kneel in front of a sacrificial stone? She must have been out of her mind with terror. And yet she'd controlled her fear. More, despite her firsthand near experience, she now passionately argued that a woman ravaged and raped should never give up hope. Should fight to stay alive despite all odds. He was amazed by her perception. Awed by her bravery. He turned his hand over and gripped her fingers. "Your pardon." It wasn't naivete that had driven her argument. It was something far nobler. "I would never blame you, my duchess, if you were thus abused, and I would never wish for you to take your own life." He lifted her hand and pressed his mouth to her palm, and as he did so he had a sharp, visceral memory: He'd kissed her before the fever had overtaken him. Her lips had been soft and yielding to the invasion of his tongue. She'd tasted of tea. He wanted to taste her again. To lick across her prim little lips, make her open her mouth and moan.”

BraveryNobleIris And RaphaelIris De Chartres
Author:Elizabeth Hoyt
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“He was a terrible, evil man, and most likely mad to boot. She knew that. And yet. As if he could hear her thoughts, his head turned and his eyes met hers. She should've ducked before he could see her. That would've been the sensible thing to do- the smart thing to do. Instead she lifted her chin and stared back as if she were equal to a duke. Without acknowledging the gentleman still talking to him, the duke pivoted and walked toward her. Through that crowded ballroom, as if nothing stood between him and her. And all those people parted as if he were a ship cleaving the waves. Why shouldn't they? He was the Duke of Montgomery. Nothing stood in his way. He made sure of that. He made her side and took her hand and simply said, "Come.”

Evil ManVal NapierBridget And Val
Book:Duke of Sin
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“Lady Elspeth leaned forward to make her own selection from the tray of treats--- a confection of pink sugar roses atop a tiny cake. He watched, appalled, as Lady Elspeth ignored her fork and brought the cake to her lips with her fingers. Julian swallowed. What would the icing taste like licked from her fingers, sweet sugar and her? The thought was too sensual. Too tempting in every way.”

Elspeth De MoraySensual Woman
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
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“You would do well to remember that you cannot physically stop a man from doing whatever he will with you. You need to be more careful." "Actually, I could've stopped you had I wished." She took a tiny but lethal-looking pistol from somewhere on her person and brandished it before his eyes. "But I didn't wish to prevent you from kissing me." Julian blinked and felt the foundations of his walls shake. She could have shot him. Could have intentionally wounded him or even killed him, and he would not have been able to prevent her. He had thought he was in control of their embrace, but in reality, it was she who had held the control all along. He closed his eyes--- for a second, only that--- and felt the thrill of the thought thrum through his body and harden his prick. Her control.”

Sexual DesireElspeth De MorayIn Control
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
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“Except Lady Elspeth wasn't and never would be either discreet or reserved. She spun around his family and around London as if she were some fae queen, without worry or fear. As if she'd been reared far from everything he understood. As if she'd come from another, wilder world. Lady Elspeth burst into his awareness like the sun rising, bringing warmth and light, making his world iridescent with color. And what was worse, he couldn't find it in himself to condemn her brilliance. He liked her. She argued with him, made him question his own opinions, made him feel. He was anything but dead in her presence.”

BrillianceElspeth De MorayDistracting
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
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“He could feel himself hardening. It was her certainty. Her calm acceptance that she was interested in such things. In sex. His cock jerked. He licked his lips. "And then?" "That depends." She smiled a secret smile. One that had been used by women ever since mankind had set foot on earth. "If I had a lover, I would tell him what I wanted." "Just like that?" he asked, his voice lowered. She nodded. "Just like that." "What if he didn't want what you want?" "Then he could say so, couldn't he?" She shrugged. "I suppose we wouldn't match. Wouldn't be compatible. In which case, I should have to find a man who was aroused by my needs." Her gaze dropped from his face, trailing slowly over his chest and belly to pause at the falls to his breeches. Where his cock strained to be released. She stared, and he'd never felt anything so erotic. Just her, frankly observing him. She must be able to see the outline of his erection even as it pulsed with new blood. His libido laid bare to her for as long she pleased. Every muscle in his body tensed, restrained, unable to move unless she said so. She sighed softly. "I'd search for a man who yearned for me and what I want. Who craved my touch. A man who put my pleasure above his own." Her gaze rose until she met his eyes. "Perhaps a man like you.”

Sex AppealElspeth De MorayDominatrixElsie And Julian
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
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“She'd never spoken so boldly in her life. Elspeth felt liquid warmth between her thighs as she watched Julian. It made her want to squirm. To press against herself. He was like a statue, a grave, beautiful Apollo, a god of music and poetry, who also held his sybil at Delphi jealously to his heart. Or so the myths said. But what if it was the other way around? What if the sybil, a mere mortal, drew the helpless god's powers to her and made him writhe in ecstasy as she proclaimed the future? Would that Apollo look like this just before he submitted to his oracle? Poised. Still. But almost quivering with strain?”

SybilElspeth De MorayDominatrixJulian Greycourt
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
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“She turned almost all the way around then and smiled at him, her cheeks flushed in the warmth of the fire, her pink lips curved sensuously, her hair falling like a red-gold waterfall over her shoulder. She might've been painted by Botticelli, a Venus emerging from the sea. "Yes, snails," she replied teasingly, oblivious to his thoughts. "Snails are delicious. One pokes them out of their shell with a little prick." He felt a tightening in his loins at the innocent remark. How could she not know the other meaning to the word? He muttered under his breath before he could censor himself, "I'd think a large prick would be preferred.”

Feminine BeautyInnuendoElspeth De Moray
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
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“Her hair was a nimbus, escaping her loose braid and curling about her face and ears. As she leaned over her meal, her breasts pushed dangerously against her bodice, swelling as if they might escape confinement entirely. Her skin was luminous in the firelight, the palest of pinks, shining like satin. Julian could, if he tried, look at her without bias. See that she was plumper than was considered pretty. Shorter than was elegant. With a face that many would think ordinary. Someone who might be lost in a crowd. But to him she was the sun in the sky, shining more brightly than anything else on earth. He should be uneasy at such attraction. She was neither like the aristocratic ladies of London whom he encountered every day nor like the prostitutes he hired covertly on occasional nights. Elspeth was a woman apart, unique unto herself.”

Feminine BeautyElspeth De MorayExtraordinary Woman
Book:No Ordinary Duchess
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“Val turned, still naked, still impossibly beautiful. Only the gore spattered on his belly, chest, and arm, marred his perfection. He walked toward her and she couldn't help it. She backed away from him. He smiled. Sweetly. Like a boy. The dagger still in his left hand. And caught her arm with his right hand. "This is who I am, Séraphine. Naked, with blade and blood. I am vengeance. I am hate. I am sin personified. Never mistake me for the hero of this tale, for I am not and shall never be. I am the villain." And he laid his lips over hers and pushed his hot tongue into her mouth and kissed her until she couldn't breathe and it was only later that she found the bloodstains on her dress. Her lips had been sweet, like ripe figs, her mouth a cavern of delight. But her eyes- those dark inquisitor's eyes- had held only horror and disgust. Val sipped his China tea the next morning and gazed out the window. The sun shone on his garden, giving the illusion of warmth, though his empty chest was ice-cold. He could have explained to her that a razor-sharp blade was kinder than a hangman's noose. That death delivered in seconds with a few thrusts was preferable to a laughing, jabbering mob, gleeful at the jerking, agonizing execution. But those saint's eyes would've seen the hypocrisy.”

MurderViolentPassionate KissVal NapierBridget And ValBridget CrumbMentallyYandere
Book:Duke of Sin
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“He immediately turned to her as the carriage rocked into motion, wrapping her in his cloak and examined her. She had bruises on her shoulders and on her arms. Her wrists were bloodied- he growled under his breath as he examined them, picking away the remains of the ropes. Her plump little toes were muddied and cut and cold. He warmed them with his hands, crooning to them. She had quite a nasty bruise on her left side and he tenderly pressed his fingers around that, soft sounds leaving his lips helplessly. Oh, that he had been there when this had been done! He would have put their eyes out. He would have cut off their noses and made them eat them. He would have- "Valentine." He blinked and realized that she had the palms of her hands on his face and was looking at him. "Valentine. I'm all right." His eyes narrowed as he looked at her face, for he was no fool. They must've had her for several days to bring her here. "Are you, though?" She looked at him very firmly. "Yes." "They didn't rape you?" "No." "Or touch you in any way?" She sighed. "They grabbed me when they took me. They tied me up." He thought about that. He didn't like it. "Did they make you do anything you didn't want to?" She hesitated. He went icy cold. "Tell me." "They..." She went a deep red and looked away. "They... when I needed to... to urinate they didn't turn away." "Ah." Well. That settled that. He wrapped his arms around her. "I am truly sorry you had to endure such horrific events, my Séraphine.”

Val NapierBridget And Val
Book:Duke of Sin
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“And then he saw her burning eyes. They gazed at him calmly and he saw in them benediction. He fell to his knees before her, pressing his face to her purple-velvet-clad-belly. "Séraphine, Séraphine, Séraphine. O most beloved of women, most fiery of saints, never leave me, please. I'll erect columns of white marble to you, build gardens of delight for you, cause ships to sail and warriors to rise for you, if you'll only remain by my side." She smiled down at him and cupped his cheeks. "Valentine, do you love me?" Ah, God, it was like a shot to the gut. He squeezed tight his eyes. To come so close and lose her because of this. "If I were able I would love you as no man has ever loved a woman since the beginning of time." She knelt then to face him and whispered, "But you are able." He clutched her. He wouldn't let her go, no, not even when she realized... "Séraphine, my darling, burning one, do you not remember? I told you, so long ago now, that I lacked that part. I cannot-" "But you can, Valentine." She touched a finger to his cheek and then showed it to him. He blinked. Her finger was wet. His eyes were wet. She smiled at him, his burning Séraphine, and it was as if the night sky were ablaze. "You love me." "I love you," he said in wonder, and felt his chest fill with warmth. "I love you." "And I love you," she whispered, her hands cupping his face. So he kissed her until she was limp and pliable and so very hot against him, and then he purred into her ear, "Does that mean you'll become my duchess, darling Bridget Crumb?" And when she sighed back, "Oh, yes, Val," he picked her up and carried her off to have his wicked, wicked way with her. Because he might have a heart now but some things weren't ever going to change.”

I Love YouConfession Of LoveVal NapierBridget And Val
Book:Duke of Sin
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“He strode, nude, to his desk, and, bending over it, afforded her a quite scandalous view of his muscular bottom. He seemed to have a dark mark of some kind on the left cheek. Good God, it looked like a tattoo. What-? "I have the most lamentable taste sometimes. It probably would be better if a few of my things disappeared. Why, Mrs. Crumb," he drawled, and she snapped her gaze belatedly up to find that he'd turned back to her- damn it! "Were you ogling my arse?" She opened her mouth and then wasn't sure, exactly, what to say. Was he about to dismiss her or not? "I... I-" "Ye-es?" He took one long stride toward her. She was suddenly, overwhelmingly aware of what she'd until now successfully ignored: He. Was. Nude.”

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Book:Duke of Sin
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“He smiled and pulled the ugly white fichu from her neck. She blinked and looked down at the simple, square neckline of her bodice as if she'd never seen it. Perhaps she hadn't. Perhaps she dressed in the dark like a nun. "What are you doing?" He sighed. "I confess, I find your naïveté perplexing. How have you arrived at the advanced age of six and twenty without having anyone attempt seduction upon yourself? I'm of two minds on the matter: One, utter astonishment at my sex and their deaf disregard for your siren call. Two, glee at the thought that your innocence might signal that you are indeed innocent. Why this should excite me so, I don't know- virginity has never before been a particular whim of mine. I think perhaps it's the setting. Who knows how many virgins were deflowered here by my lusty ancestors? Or," he said as he deftly unpinned and tossed aside her apron, "maybe it's simply you." "I don't..." Her words trailed off and then, interestingly, she blushed a deep rose. Well. That question settled, then. His little maiden was really a maiden. "What?" "I think it's you," he confided, pulling the strings tying her hideous mobcap beneath her chin. She made a wild grab for it, but he was faster, snatching the bloody thing off- finally, and with a great deal of satisfaction. She might've deprived him of a wife that it'd taken him half a year and a rather large sum of money to entangle, but by God, he'd taken off her awful cap. And underneath... "Oh, Séraphine," he breathed, enchanted, for her hair was as black as coal, as black as night, as black as his own soul, save for one white streak just over her left eye. But she'd twisted and braided and tortured the strands, binding them tight to her head, and his fingers itched to let them free. "Don't!" she said, as if she knew what he wanted, her hands flying up to cover her hair. He batted them aside, laughing, pulling a pin here, a pin there, dropping them carelessly to the carpet as she squealed like a little girl and backed away from him, trying frantically to ward off his fingers. He might've taken pity on her had he not just spent an hour on a freezing moor, wondering if he was going to find her dead, neck broken, at the bottom of a hill. Her hair came down all at once, a tumbling mass, tousled and heavy and nearly down to her waist. "Wonderful," he murmured, taking it in both hands and lifting it.”

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Book:Duke of Sin
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“And she arched, screaming, the lightning blazing from her center, sparking through her limbs, flying out her fingertips. She was incandescent. He fell atop her, heavy and male, pulling her legs up around his narrow hips, and ground down into her, once, twice. His cock jerked within her and she could feel every muscle in his body tense. He groaned into her ear like a man dying and then fell senseless and limp. And as she followed him into exhausted slumber she heard his single word: Mine.”

Making LoveBridget And Val
Book:Duke of Sin
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