An Insatiable Appetite…
Anthony Sokorvsky’s only rule in life is not to have any, especially when pleasures of the flesh are involved. But his dark sexual pursuits have led him down a treacherous path that may cost him his fortune if he doesn’t end his recklessness and wed. His salvation comes in the form of Marguerite Lockwood. Just one day in Marguerite’s presence leaves Anthony lusting after her and fantasizing about all the ways he can bring her to new heights of delirious scorching ecstasy.
The ultimate Satisfaction…
When Anthony Sokorvsky offers to escort Marguerite around London she’s not sure what to make of the intriguing-yet very sensual-man. And when he wastes no time in seducing her she finds herself thoroughly aroused. No man before has managed to ignite the wild desire she now feels deep within her. Surrendering completely to Anthony’s expert caresses Marguerite is finally ready to have her erotic needs met-and to fulfill her lover’s most wicked imaginings…
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CHAPTER ONE
London 1819
“Oh God, where am I?”
Anthony Sokorvsky opened one eye and swiftly closed it again. The birch floorboards he’d glimpsed and the black walls hung with instruments of pain and sexual gratification meant only one thing: he was still at Madame Helene’s pleasure house. He licked his lips, tasted dried blood, brandy and the acrid tang of another man’s come.
With a groan he rolled onto his stomach, wincing as his morning erection scraped the rough wood. He was naked and still in the punishment corner. At least someone had had the decency to take the manacles from his wrists. Gingerly he sat up, fighting the urge to retch with every painful movement. What the hell had he done last night?
He stifled another groan. Nothing worse, he suspected, than he’d subjected himself to for the last few months. But something had changed. For the first time the pain had far outweighed the pleasure. His wrists were bruised, his arse hurt and his back was torn from the lash of a whip. He buried his hands in his hair and closed his eyes.
God, what kind of man allowed himself to be used by other men for their sexual pleasure? At first, it had excited him. Now, it simply felt like he deserved it. He was almost twenty-six; surely it was time to move on?
A discreet cough sounded at the doorway. Blinking, Anthony forced himself to look up. Judd, Madame Helene’s butler, bowed and held out a brown embroidered dressing gown.
“Good morning, my lord. I have a fresh set of clothes waiting for you downstairs in Madame’s apartment and a bath if you would like.”
Vaguely, Anthony looked around for his own clothes and couldn’t see them. With a sigh, he held out his hand for the dressing gown.
“Thank you, Judd. I’ll be along in a moment.”
He couldn’t bear to meet the older man’s gaze. What must the butler think of him wallowing in a shameful pool of lust of his own making? His last conscious