The Pleasures of Sin by Jessica Trapp Read Free Book Online Page A

of a man’s member, she had not finished it. It did not seem right to paint a vague sausage-shape as she had done with her other erotic art.
    At once the thought of having Montgomery unclad was more than simply making him easier to kill. Doing so would allow her to finish the painting with an edge of realism. That would, for certes, allow her to study with her brother’s tutors when she reached Italy.
    Emboldened by the thought, she untied the strings holding the codpiece and lifted it away. A large bulge lay beneath it, straining against the chain mail chausses. Eager now, she slid these down his legs until he was clad only in his hose.
    She skimmed her hands over the ties, slowly undid the stays and peeled them down his long, long legs. The crisp hair on his thighs prickled against her palms. She felt hot, dizzy. And completely curious.
    Without allowing herself time to think, she pulled the strings on his brais and let them slide to the floor.
    She gasped as his member sprang loose. ’Twas so much larger than she’d expected. Much different than the ones she’d painted. It bobbed in the air seeming to defy the laws of nature that pulled things downward. Not like a flabby sausage a’tall!
    Amazed, she stared at it and as she did, it seemed to grow even longer.
    Hell’s fires. All her paintings had been wrong! She’d painted men’s members afore, but they looked nothing like this. She’d gotten the color wrong. And it had a slight purplish tint at the end and a very interesting vein that bulged down the length.
    Reaching out, she touched it with one finger.
    Her new husband hissed and she lurched. Straightening, she looked up at him.
    She’d been so entranced by the size and sturdiness of his body, she’d ignored Montgomery the man.
    He gazed down on her, his intense cobalt eyes blazing. His dark brows drew together in an enigmatic scowl that made her wonder what he was thinking.
    Shivers raced down her spine. The dagger felt hard and steely betwixt her breasts.
    “I’ve never had a woman inspect me like a prized stallion.”
    She stepped back to put some distance between them, and composed her face. “I was not.”
    Montgomery chuckled, the sound throaty and warm.
    She felt her cheeks heat, and tore her gaze away from his to glance around at the bare walls of her room.
    Of a truth, she had been looking over him that way. But only for the sake of her art , she told her seared conscience.
    Reaching out, he grasped her hand and drew her forward.
    A frisson of heat skipped through her, seeming to land right in her woman’s core. She scowled, wondering what she should do.
    Turning her face to one side, she peered into the bailey and hoped for the signal.
    Naught but men and horses and servants were in the field.
    Catching her glancing out the open window, James marched over and drew the curtain closed.
    Devil take it! She’d have to find a way to open them a crack if she was going to see the candle in Adele’s window.
    Night was still hours away though. She had time.
    Montgomery’s male member bobbed in the air, pointing the way as he walked back to her. It had lost some of its size and stiffness but was still rather impressive. Brenna found it impossible not to watch, wanting to memorize the look of it for her paintings.
    “You are very curious for a virgin.”
    Her gaze snapped to his face. His lips lifted in a smug, half-smile. Arrogant. He’s beautiful and he knows it. Absolutely flawless and exquisite.
    Like Gwyneth.
    Unlike herself.
    Swallowing, she raised her hand self-consciously to the scar on her cheek and was glad she still wore her headdress and wedding veil to cover up her hacked off hair. Between her fascination and her anger, she’d forgotten how most men reacted to her looks—or lack thereof.
    He stepped toward her and touched the scar, running his index finger along the bumpy ridge from her nose to her ear.
    She shivered and ducked her head.
    Catching her chin between his fingers, he turned