Page 134 of Her Beast

It took her a moment before she noticed the picture over the headboard. “Oh.”

“That is by a contemporary artist—Gustav Courbet. It is titledThe Origin of the World.”

Malcolm had paid a foolish amount for the painting—a woman’s torso, her sex exposed, but her identity erased—and didn’t regret even a penny.

He laid a hand on the small of her back, just above her bustle. “Do you like my art?”

She nodded dumbly and turned slowly to him. “I have never met anyone like you.”

“I could take that several ways,” he teased.

Her full lips pulled into a wry smile. “I meant it as a compliment.”

Malcolm inclined his head. “Thank you. Did you wear that gown with me in mind?”

Her hand immediately went to the large onyx buttons and she looked enchantingly flustered. “Oh, well, I thought—”

“That I might not be able to manage tiny buttons or hooks?”

She hesitated, and then nodded.

Malcolm took her hand and led her toward the fire. “It’s true that I find buttons quite challenging,” he said, not entirely truthfully. “So why don’t you undress for me, Julia.”

She blinked up at him and Malcolm couldn’t recall seeing such a look of profound stupefaction on another human being’s face.

He suspected it was a look that he would see often if they spent much time together.

He settled into one of the huge leather armchairs he had in every room, built for a man his height and size, and looked across at her, curious as to what she’d do next.

She swallowed convulsively, her fingers toying nervously with the button. “You want me to—”

“I want you naked; I want to see every inch of your body.”

She flinched, as if he’d shouted, but then her chin tilted bravely. “Yet I am not allowed to see you?”

“You can see my cock.”

Her chin, so brave only a few seconds before, sagged.

He smiled and set his hand over his tented placket, lightly stroking himself while enjoying her wild blushing. “See what you do to me, Julia?”

Her breathing was rapid and ragged, her eyes riveted to his crude fondling.

Would she leave now? Part of him—although not the part he was absently stroking—hoped she did. While she wasn’t a virgin, she was close enough that he knew he’d feel guilty about debauching her for a long, long time.

But then he thought about why she’d been in London at this time of year. She had pursued sensual adventure doggedly and been punished for it. She deserved to know how much pleasure her body was capable of receiving—and giving.

Malcolm was hardly the knight in shining armor a woman like her deserved, but then he suspected that wasn’t what Julia wanted. Indeed, he could see by the lust in her gaze that she needed something darker, something raw and visceral.

Thatwas something Malcolm could give her.

She worried her lower lip, lowered her lashes, and then said, “Will you take it out so I can see it?”

Yet again, she surprised him and his balls clenched so hard he had to squeeze the sensitive crown hard to suppress his arousal. He barked a laugh. “Vixen.”

“Please, Malcolm?”

“Undress,” he ordered roughly, ignoring her request. If he took his prick out and stroked himself in front of her, he’d last all of ten seconds.

---