Pleasure and Purpose Read online

  "Come here." He pulled her onto his lap, her knees pressing the back of the chair, his cock imprisoned between them. "Loosen my shirt."

  She opened the buttons, exposing his bare skin. He pulled her closer to kiss her, and she sighed as her clit finally got the attention it had been craving. Edward gripped her hips, pulling her against him belly to belly. Her clitoris rubbed the base of his erection, and she shivered.

  He helped her rock her hips more. Their kisses were slow, languorous, but not exactly gentle. His tongue slid inside her mouth, demanding she return the gesture, and his teeth grazed her jaw and throat every so often.

  "Lift up."

  He slid inside her. They both moaned. Nessa's head fell forward. Their mouths met, hungry for each other. His kisses inflamed her. The bites even more so. Edward's teeth found her throat again and he held the soft skin between them, torturing her with the anticipation of the sting.

  He'd told her this wasn't making love, but it had become more than fucking. Their bodies moved in perfect tandem, her climax mounting.

  "This feels good?" he asked.

  "Aye, it does. . . ." Her words became a gasp when he circled more firmly on her clit. Then, he asked no more questions, and they moved together, each seeking the ecstasy of release. Hers came first, a burst of sparkling bliss radiating through her entire body. Her cunt fluttered, and the next moment she felt the pulse of his cock and heard his cry of joy as he climaxed.

  Her head found a place on his shoulder as his arms went around her, holding her close to him. She listened to the sound of his breathing. He softened inside her, but they didn't move apart.

  "You shall have to try harder, sir," she whispered after a time.

  "How so?"

  She smiled, nestled in his arms. "If you truly wish me to fail." Edward sighed and held her closer. "I know, Stillness. I know." Then they said no more on the matter,

  "Is she a witch?"

  Edward looked up from his book. "Who, Alaric? Your new conquest? She's a bit testy, or so I've heard, but a witch? I wouldn't go that far."

  Alaric frowned and eased his long body into the empty spot on the sofa facing Edward.

  "No, not Larissa, though testy as a description of her is being kind. No. Your Handmaiden."

  Edward, knowing it was useless to do otherwise, set aside the text he'd been reading.

  "Why do you ask?"

  "Because I'd say she's woven a spell over you." Alaric grinned. "The change is remarkable. The ladies are all atwitter. Even our dear Cillian took me aside to mention it to me. He wanted to know whether you'd been overindulging in herb and worm, for your smile was so ready and bright."

  Edward shook his head. "I'll tell him it's no indulgence but his own recent calm behavior that's allowed me this good nature."

  "He won't believe you." Alaric reached to the table in front of him and snagged a slice of joba melon. "And if you tell him that, he's likely to head back to his usual ways sooner than later."

  "Good point." Edward watched his friend devour the juicy melon. "Do you make love to Larissa the way you eat that fruit? No wonder she's testy."

  Alaric rolled his eyes. "Nobody makes love to Lady Larissa, old man. If you count yourself lucky to be allowed to her bed, Lady Larissa quite clearly makes love to you, not the other way 'round."

  "She sounds perfect for you, Alaric." Edward knew the lady in question, though not well.

  "She does all the work, you get all the benefit."

  Alaric sucked his teeth free of the strands of melon before answering. "She rides me like a pony, crop and all."

  Edward raised a brow. Further discussion on that matter became impossible as the library door banged open and Cillian burst through, followed closely by his latest lapdog, Persis Denviel. The two men carried jugs of worm and bowls of herb.

  "Edward! Edward, my dear one!" Cillian had already been imbibing. His eyes were bright, the pupils dilated, and his pale cheeks flushed. He raised the jug. "And Alaric. Join us!"

  "No, thank you." Edward shook his head. "I must ride home and I care not to need tying to my saddle to keep me aboard the horse."

  Cillian made a face. "You needn't leave us, Edward. What have you at home that could replace the camaraderie and companionship of the palace?"

  At that, Alaric let out a snort and sat up straight. Cillian's red-gold head swiveled toward the other man. Putting a hand on his hip, Cillian strode forward to peer more closely at Alaric.

  "You know," he said, then glanced at Edward, "don't you? You know what's put such a smile on our dear Edward's handsome face. Don't you?"

  Alaric smiled and bowed his head in deference to the man hovering over him. "It's not my place to say."

  Cillian's mind was too sharp to be dulled by worm, and he cast a sharp-eyed gaze upon Edward. "A new lover?"

  "Nothing like that."

  Cillian moved forward, peering at him. His eyes traveled over Edward's body, his neatly tied cravat, the buttoned waistcoat and perfectly pressed trousers. The gleaming, polished boots. Edward shifted awkwardly under Cillian's bright, searching stare. Alaric had turned, as well. Persis had lit a bowl of herb and lost himself in the fragrant smoke.

  "You're better put together. You've always been smartly turned out, Edward, but now"—Cillian leaned in to sniff him—"you smell taken care of. But not a lover? A wife? Have you gone and married some fortunate cunna, my dear Edward?"

  "You know I wouldn't marry without informing you." Edward didn't like the bright madness in Cillian's eyes, the madness that said he wouldn't be satisfied until he had an answer.

  Cillian reached out to stroke the ribbon clubbing back Edward's hair at the base of his neck. "You didn't do this yourself. You braid your hair haphazardly and tie it with frayed cord."

  Alaric let out a chuckle. "He has you there, old man. You look positively tidy." Edward scowled at Alaric. "My lord, I have—"

  Cillian's fingers tightened on the bound hair. "Whist. Hush. This is a puzzle, and I dearly love puzzles. Let me figure it out myself."

  He leaned closer, his hard grin showing all his teeth. His hand stayed in its place at Edward's neck. His eyes traveled over Edward's face, locking at last upon his eyes. He sniffed again, a deep, slow breath, and the grin turned beatific.

  "You have a Handmaiden."

  Edward kept his sigh in check by stint of long experience dealing with the irascible and irrational prince. "I do."

  Cillian clapped his hands. "Oh, that's rich indeed, my good man! What is her name?"

  "Stillness." Edward forced his voice to remain as neutral as his expression, though the prince's reaction made him want to cringe.

  "Stillness." Cillian breathed it out, eyes looking upward as he seemed to ponder that. He looked back at Edward. "She is well trained, Stillness. You are clearly closer to solace already."

  "Cilly," whined Persis from his sprawled position on the chair by the fireplace, "the bowl's gone out."

  Cillian's shrewd gaze narrowed as he looked at Persis. Edward recognized that look, and if Persis knew what was wise, he'd not repeat the tone of voice he'd just used. Persis, however, didn't seem too wise.

  Cillian looked back at Edward. "My boy seems to think I'm responsible for keeping his bowl lit."

  "Cilly," Persis whined again, languid fingers lifting the bowl for all to see. "It's not smo-o-o-oking."

  Edward reached a hand to grasp Cillian's sleeve! "My lord." Cillian looked at the hand holding him, and for the briefest instant his lip curled. The green eyes blazed. Then, quickly as that, he smiled again and extricated his sleeve from Edward's grasp.

  "Don't worry, my dear Edward," he murmured with a look across the room to where Persis was fighting to light the bowl again. "I won't hurt him. Badly." Edward sat back with a sigh. "Cillian—"

  Cillian turned, and in the split-second swiftness that was only one of the things that made him so unpredictable was in Edward's face. His lips brushed against Edward's cheek as he spoke, low, for only Edward to hea