Duncan had tasted paradise and was reluctant to move. Indeed, he could have fallen asleep readily here, cosseted in Eglantine’s soft fur-lined cloak and her even softer embrace. His eyes drifted closed, he breathed deeply of the perfume of her flesh, and he let himself ease toward slumber.
Eglantine, however, had markedly different ideas.
“Get up,” she said abruptly, her words crisper than Duncan might have thought appropriate. He frowned and snuggled deeper.
Aye, the woman was softer than silk and her hair smelled like flowers in summer sunlight. He smiled against her flesh, his lips finding the ripe curve of her breast. He kissed her, cupping her fullness in his hand, then licked the tightening n****e.
Another mating of the ilk of that first one would not be all bad, to Duncan’s thin
