Page 46 of Seducing Sophia (Scholars of Seduction)

In many ways she had been a maiden—her eyes having been closed to the pleasures a man and woman shared.

And now, she sat before him, her body open for him to feast his eyes on.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

She colored, and moved to lower her skirts.

“No,” he said, softly. “Let me take one last look at you.” He clutched the hem of her gown and kneeled before her.

“Adrian,” she said, a plea in her voice. “Someone might come in.”

“My household knows enough not to disturb me,” he said. “And besides, was there not a thrill in the anticipation of our being caught in the act?”

He parted her knees once more to look at her—soft, ripe flesh with a nest of curls at the center. He dipped a finger in and ran it across her slick warmth until he met the little bud at the center. She gave a soft mewl, and her body pulsed faintly with the aftershocks of her climax.

“So responsive,” he whispered. “It’s as if you were made for me.” He lifted her skirts higher and brushed his hand across her softly rounded belly.

“Adrian, please…”

“Are you ashamed of your body, Sophia?” he asked. “Because it has been stretched by the birth of your child?” He caressed her skin. “Most women complain that childbirth ruins their bodies, but I disagree. You have the body of a goddess, and the evidence of your motherhood renders you even more deserving of my worship. What more could a man want—a woman, ripe and round with fertility…” he leaned forward and breathed in, “…and drenched with the scent of her desire?”

She let out a little moan and he drew back and lowered her skirts. He had no wish to overwhelm her.

At least not tonight—not her first time.

And it was her first time. Her late husband, however heroic he may have been, had not earned the right to say he’d made love to her. And Adrian doubted he’d been that heroic. There was something about him—something in Sophia’s voice when she spoke of him. But tonight was not the night to delve into the history of the mysterious Mr. Black—not when Adrian had been fucking the man’s widow into the next world.

He took her hand. “Forgive me if I overwhelmed you, Sophia,” he said. “Believe me when I say that tonight was all about your pleasure. I would never do anything to hurt you—or your son.”

She nodded and smiled, the trust returning in her expression, and she curled her fingers around his.

For a fleeting moment he imagined what it might like to be cleaved to Sophia forever, for her beautiful face to be the first thing he saw every time he woke, to find release inside her lush, womanly body each morning, and to taste her each night.

Sweet heaven—was he falling in love? What manner of spell was she casting over him?

“Shall I fetch you something to drink?” he asked. “More wine, perhaps?”

He led her to an armchair beside the fireplace, then poured a glass of dark red liquid and handed it to her. She took it, her hands trembling, and sipped at the drink. After a while, her body stilled and her breathing grew steady.

“I thought we might take a turn about the gardens tomorrow,” he said, sitting beside her. “That is, if you would like to take some exercise.”

The corner of her mouth curled into a smile and mischief danced in her eyes.

“Do you not think we’ve had enough exercise for one visit?”

“One can never have too much exercise,” he said. “I hear it’s very beneficial for your health. Ask any doctor.”

She let out a laugh, and took another sip.

“Does your offer regarding my son’s education still stand?” she asked.

“Of course it does.”

“Then I should like to accept it.”

“What changed your mind?”

“It’s not because w-we…” She gestured toward him.

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