"Or I could initiate you into droits de seigneur."

With anyone else she would have taken fierce offense; but his dark gaze was scandalously wicked, and the thought of being dominated by his strength and power quickened her ready sexuality. "What exactly would that entail?" she hesitantly inquired.

An iniquitous smile curved his mouth. "A good deal of pleasure for us both."

"How exactly would that occur?"

"Are you taking notes?"

"The concept makes me marginally nervous, although not with you-I think…"

"Trust me, darling," he assured her. "It's only for fun. Now eat something," he added, handing her an almond pastry. "I wouldn't want my dairy maid to be hungry when I lift up her skirts and put my stiff prick in her."

His words ignited a flame deep inside her; she could almost feel the thrilling invasion. "You make certain aspects of a dairy maid's life sound tantalizing," she murmured, a heated tremor in her voice. "And perhaps the dairy maid could order her master about as well…"

His gaze went shuttered. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't allow it."

"Because?"

"You don't have enough time for the answer, nor do I care to discuss it. You had your husband, and I had"-his eyes went utterly cold for a moment-"other people in my life I prefer to forget."

"Except you can't forget everything, can you?"

"It depends what you're doing," he softly said.

"Is that why you travel the world?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

"And that's also why you're so good in bed."

"That's why," he brusquely said. "Are we done?"

"Certainly. I know how to be polite."

"I'm not interested in politeness."

"Actually, I'm not either."

His gaze held hers for a potent moment, and then they both laughed.

"I'm interested in sex with you," she said in well-bred accents.

"I'm interested in protracted sex with you." His boyish smile lit up his eyes.

"That's pretty simple."

"It can be."

"If I don't grill you on your feelings."

"You're intelligent in addition to being one of the world's most beautiful women."

"And you should know."

"And I should know. Are you warm now?" he gently inquired.

The discussion was over

"Very warm. It must be these quilts." Her glance was playful.

"I'm sure," he softly drawled, pulling away the fold of quilt that covered her breasts. "Although your nipples look like they're cold." They were hard, peaked, provocatively long.

"Your reference to prolonged sex took their fancy."

"And they became hard for me?" Reaching out, he slid his fingertips around the taut crests, the imprint of his silken touch instantly registering in the pit of her stomach, a delicious heat streaking downward like molten pleasure.

"We've been so busy seeing to your orgasms, I've been derelict in my attentions to these large, lovely breasts." Softly gripping her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, he tugged them, pulling them one way and then the other, her plump breasts swinging, quivering, the fleshy contours compressing and swelling-the coffee in their cups on the tray rippling with the gentle movement of the bed.

"Do you like that? Do you like me to squeeze these?" His fingers tightened their grip.

A convulsive heat liquefied between her thighs, and she softly moaned at the carnal pleasure.

"I can't hear you. Should I squeeze them harder?" The pink tissue compressed between his fingers, and bending his head, he licked one constricted tip.

She could feel the touch of his tongue in every taut nerve in her body, and shuddering, she wondered if she would ever get enough of him.

Relaxing his grip, he slid his palms over the outside flare of her breasts, slipping his hands under their delectable weight, lifting the quivering flesh upward until her breasts were mounded high, until her tingling nipples were conveniently at mouth level. "If you want me to suck on you," he whispered, lightly bouncing the pink globes, "just let me know…"

"Please, Flynn," she breathed, anticipation strumming through her body, her need for him overwhelming.

"Who?" he softly queried, gently shaking his head. Releasing her breasts, he leaned back slightly. "Remember you're the maid and I'm…?"

"The master," she whispered, the throbbing between her thighs quickening at the salacious thought.

"And I'll be putting my hard cock in you."

She squirmed against the fine linen sheet, her soft whimper a distinct plea.

"But you have to please me," he softly warned. "Sit up straighter so I can suck on your big breasts more easily."

She instantly responded, her breasts thrusting upward.

"Make your nipples longer for me. Rub them." And he watched as she massaged her nipples, lightly stretched them, diligently obeying. "Look at what that does to my hard-on," he murmured, and when her gaze focused on his upthrust erection, he wondered if she would come before he touched her. She was flushed, panting, gently rocking on the bed, her eyes hot with desire.

"Do you want this?" Lightly grasping his penis, he slid his hand downward, the movement increasing the length, the gleaming crest arching higher.

"Yes…," she breathed, a heated tremor in her voice.

"You have to let me suck on you first."

"Of course… please-whatever you want." With her eyes trained on his pulsing erection, submission resonated in her words.

"Lean forward," he ordered. "And hold your breasts up for me."

She instantly complied, the fleshy abundance spilling over her palms, her carnal hunger so intense she was shaking.

"If your nipples are to my taste," he whispered, his breath warming one crest, "I may allow you to fuck me. What flavor are they?"

She shook her head, unsure of anything but her throbbing need for fulfillment.

"I prefer cherry. Do you think you can accommodate me?" He lightly licked the turgid tip.

She moaned, all her senses alert to the merest touch, the grazing imprint of his tongue vibrating throughout her body.

"You have to answer or I won't let you come. There's cherry creams in your chocolate box." He gently nibbled on the pink nipple she held up for him. "Should we flavor these to make me happy?"

"If you wish…" She could barely respond, her desire so ravenous.

"Don't you wish?" His voice was brusque. "Tell me or I won't ram my cock in you."

"Yes, yes…," she whispered.

"Are you wet enough?" he murmured and waited for her answer.

It took her a moment to recall the question, and even then she was unsure. "I think so."

"You seem to have your mind elsewhere." His tone turned severe. "I'm not sure you'll do for a dairy maid if you can't concentrate on your duties."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"I may not fuck you if you don't better apply yourself."

"I will, sir," she quickly replied. "Forgive me, sir."

"Well…" His tone was considering. "Maybe this once I'll forgive you. You're new and don't understand what's required of you. But you understand, you're on probation."

"I understand. I shall listen-truly I shall."

He scrutinized her for a moment as though questioning her sincerity. "Very well," he finally said. "Now then." He lifted her chin so their eyes met. "The question was whether you're wet enough to have sex with me. Do you think you are?"

She took a small breath, forcing herself to concentrate on answering correctly. "I'm sure I am, sir."

"Why don't we see." Easing her thighs apart, he slid two fingers inside her, slowly, delicately, gliding upward, the slick, hot tissue pulsing around his strong fingers. He avoided contact with the most sensitive areas of arousal. She was teetering on the brink, and he wanted to delay her orgasm-or at least try, he thought with a faint smile. Smoothly withdrawing his fingers awash with pearly liquid, he lightly traced a path down the deep valley between her breasts, leaving a glistening trail. "Your sweet cunt is a veritable river of desire," he murmured, holding his scented fingers up for her to see. "Such enthusiasm. Would I be right in saying you're suitably prepared for intercourse?"

It took enormous effort to respond when her entire nervous system was obsessed with voluptuous sensation. "Yes, sir," she whispered in the merest wisp of a voice, near delirious with wanting him, the throbbing ache between her legs so intense she would do anything to have him inside her.

"Soon we'll test your readiness," he promised, sliding his fingers over one plump breast. "But first I want some cherry-flavored nipples." He rested his fingertip on the turgid crest of one breast as though clarifying his statement. "You may service me after that, provided I'm satisfied with the taste. Keep those breasts up nice and high," he added, adjusting her hands under her breasts before forcing them upward. "I don't want to have to bend down too far." As she quickly complied, pushing the ripe weight of her breasts into great, high mounds, he lifted the cover from the chocolate box, took out the bracelet and snapped it around her wrist. "There's no more debate about keeping this, is there?" His voice was silken.

She shook her head.

"You're sure?" He gently stroked one nipple, and the jarring pleasure racked her body.

She nodded, unable to gather breath to speak.

"How amenable you've become," he murmured. "You'll find it more rewarding. Obedient dairy maids are allowed to serve me in a great number of ways. Would you like to serve as a receptacle for my sperm?"

She softly moaned, imagining the sensation as his monstrous erection entered her, stretched her, filled her.

"You seem like a particularly hot-blooded little piece," he whispered, watching her gently sway against the rush of heat flowing into her vagina. "Have the grooms been fucking you in my absence? Are you suitably primed for sex? Or have you been waiting just for me?" Picking up a chocolate, he held it to her mouth. "Take a bite," he quietly commanded, "and then we'll see whether you've been trained or not."

Her gaze came up and met his for a potent moment, umbrage beneath the smoldering heat. "I wouldn't do this for any other reason, you know."

"I know." His voice was like velvet or more aptly like rich chocolate cream. "Take a bite, darling… yield to me and I'll forgive you for fucking the groom."

Sudden temper flared in her eyes, and she bit down hard on his finger.

With a grunt of pain he jerked his hand away and shoved at her. As she tumbled backward, he followed her down, imprisoning her with his body. "You need a lesson in submission," he growled, his dark eyes only inches from hers.

"Maybe I need something else," she snapped, struggling against his weight.

"And maybe you'll get it if you contrive to please me." Curt and resentful, he glared at her. "Understood?" His voice was whisper-soft, his eyes as hot as hers. "Now, let's start over again, and if you're very, very good, I'll put this in you"-he slid the head of his erection just past the sleek lips of her labia, forcing open the engorged, pulsing tissue, holding himself immobile just inside the entrance to her vagina while she shivered with longing-"so you can really feel it." Abruptly withdrawing, he sat up while she tried to stop trembling.

"So whenever you're ready to cooperate," he murmured, selecting another chocolate from the box.

"Damn you," she breathed.

"At the moment, the feeling's mutual. I'm waiting," he coolly said. Why did it suddenly matter that he prevail in this ridiculous game? Why did he require submission when it was never relevant before? But his passions were as immune to logic as hers, and no facile answer materialized in the tumult of his brain.

No more did Felicia understand why she was so humbled by desire, having always regarded obsession as a flight of fancy, poetic license at best, but never real… until this moment when she was lost to all reason, desperate for what he could give her. And not compliant so much as lustful, she sat up, leaned back on her hands and offered him a seductive smile. "I'd thought I'd make myself available."

"You don't think I could take you if I wanted?"

"It would be a change, at least. You never have to take, do you?"

"Make a selection, perhaps," he insolently drawled.

"But you want me now, don't you? What if I said no?"

"You can't."

"Nor can you."

"A not unpleasant dilemma, I'd say. Are you ready to try this again?" he softly asked. "Because I'm not finished yet."

"Do you often play like this?"

He had no intention of answering. "Do you?"

"You know better."