“Now.” His command was not sharp, but did promise punishment if she refused him.
She darted onto the love seat, smoothing her gown with fidgeting hands. The gown’s bodice clung to her breasts, making it harder to breathe. She’d had it made a few years ago, before her figure had filled out. It was the only dress she knew Lucien had never seen on her. Horatia had never been so aware of her body as she was now. The bodice clutched her breasts, her n*****s rubbed against the fabric and the juncture between her thighs felt damp and tingly. He scowled at the obvious distance between them.
“Closer,” he growled.
She shuffled over.
He didn’t seem satisfied however until she’d come so close that her left hip was pressed snugly against his right. He wound an arm about her waist, jerking her even
