| Author: | Camiel Rollins | ISBN: | 9781310225031 |
| Publisher: | Camiel Rollins | Publication: | November 30, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | Camiel Rollins |
| ISBN: | 9781310225031 |
| Publisher: | Camiel Rollins |
| Publication: | November 30, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
JUS PRIMAE NOCTIS
INVOKE THE RIGHT TO THE BRIDE'S FIRST NIGHT...
Handsome and virile, Baron Fabian Deschamps takes pity on a virgin bride callously treated by her old and ugly groom on the day of their wedding, and he invokes his right to her first night. He wants to give the arrogant husband a lesson and his virgin wife a pleasurable seduction she hopefully will never forget.
When her lips touched his, he realizes he is also going to have a lesson to learn. Not all virgins are innocent. Isabelle Duvre is a smart, curious, beautiful young woman. And there is the danger that he is going to be the one who will never forget her.
But as soon as beautiful and smart Isabelle gets the chance to fulfill her curiosity about the matrimonial bed and the anatomy of a man, she wants more. Fabian is finding it hard to think about the day he is bound to give her back to her real husband.
Excerpt:
She went to his heavily gilded mirror, still naked, and cold. But nothing could be colder than what her heart could feel at the moment. She stared at her image in the mirror, noting the marks left by the Baron on her skin the night before. Her long, thick, dirty blonde curls tumbled down past her shoulders, swayed down her back and fanned her breasts. Those pink nipples, he liked them immensely. He said she was beautiful. Even as she felt despair, she saw that beautiful face staring back at her. Something was different about it. A resolute expression was on her blue eyes and on the firming of her lips.
Whatever she thought of it, whatever was really true about Fabian's intentions, something real and unavoidable was going to happen today. And she had to be strong to survive it. He must not see how scared she felt.
She tried to smile.
It was a smile that held no warmth. The Baron, Fabian Deschamps, had made her feel how it was like to be free regardless of her station. He made her feel the power of a woman, beautiful and desirable, though she was not an aristocrat like him. And this power she felt coursing through her veins right now was strong enough that she felt she could face today with it. But it was not going to be easy. Oh no, it won’t.
It was Fabian's fault. He made her feel how it was like to be loved by a man.
She closed her eyes as she felt hot tears course down her cold cheeks.
The door to the chamber suddenly opened and the Baron walked in, stopping as he saw her where she stood, her tears clearly visible in the light flickering from candles still alight in the room.
He was quickly by her side. “What’s wrong, ma bichette?” he asked, his voice urgent and concerned. “Are you hurting?
She shook her head. She did not want to speak.
He turned her to him and his mouth descended on hers, devouring her lips. She kissed him as hard as he did, opening her mouth to his and sliding her tongue against his, feeling a surge of triumph as she felt his manhood hardening and rapidly growing against her lower stomach. He wanted her. Her hand eagerly went for it, and he sucked his breath in when she found it and traced its shape with her fingers. He was wearing a loose shirt and soft breeches, and she left his mouth to kneel before him, pulling at the string and the cloth down his thighs.
“Isabelle!”
“I want to taste you,” she whispered, her voice breathy in the beginning of the morning light. “Please, my Lord.”
“Isabelle, my God...”
JUS PRIMAE NOCTIS
INVOKE THE RIGHT TO THE BRIDE'S FIRST NIGHT...
Handsome and virile, Baron Fabian Deschamps takes pity on a virgin bride callously treated by her old and ugly groom on the day of their wedding, and he invokes his right to her first night. He wants to give the arrogant husband a lesson and his virgin wife a pleasurable seduction she hopefully will never forget.
When her lips touched his, he realizes he is also going to have a lesson to learn. Not all virgins are innocent. Isabelle Duvre is a smart, curious, beautiful young woman. And there is the danger that he is going to be the one who will never forget her.
But as soon as beautiful and smart Isabelle gets the chance to fulfill her curiosity about the matrimonial bed and the anatomy of a man, she wants more. Fabian is finding it hard to think about the day he is bound to give her back to her real husband.
Excerpt:
She went to his heavily gilded mirror, still naked, and cold. But nothing could be colder than what her heart could feel at the moment. She stared at her image in the mirror, noting the marks left by the Baron on her skin the night before. Her long, thick, dirty blonde curls tumbled down past her shoulders, swayed down her back and fanned her breasts. Those pink nipples, he liked them immensely. He said she was beautiful. Even as she felt despair, she saw that beautiful face staring back at her. Something was different about it. A resolute expression was on her blue eyes and on the firming of her lips.
Whatever she thought of it, whatever was really true about Fabian's intentions, something real and unavoidable was going to happen today. And she had to be strong to survive it. He must not see how scared she felt.
She tried to smile.
It was a smile that held no warmth. The Baron, Fabian Deschamps, had made her feel how it was like to be free regardless of her station. He made her feel the power of a woman, beautiful and desirable, though she was not an aristocrat like him. And this power she felt coursing through her veins right now was strong enough that she felt she could face today with it. But it was not going to be easy. Oh no, it won’t.
It was Fabian's fault. He made her feel how it was like to be loved by a man.
She closed her eyes as she felt hot tears course down her cold cheeks.
The door to the chamber suddenly opened and the Baron walked in, stopping as he saw her where she stood, her tears clearly visible in the light flickering from candles still alight in the room.
He was quickly by her side. “What’s wrong, ma bichette?” he asked, his voice urgent and concerned. “Are you hurting?
She shook her head. She did not want to speak.
He turned her to him and his mouth descended on hers, devouring her lips. She kissed him as hard as he did, opening her mouth to his and sliding her tongue against his, feeling a surge of triumph as she felt his manhood hardening and rapidly growing against her lower stomach. He wanted her. Her hand eagerly went for it, and he sucked his breath in when she found it and traced its shape with her fingers. He was wearing a loose shirt and soft breeches, and she left his mouth to kneel before him, pulling at the string and the cloth down his thighs.
“Isabelle!”
“I want to taste you,” she whispered, her voice breathy in the beginning of the morning light. “Please, my Lord.”
“Isabelle, my God...”
