Blood Fire by Sharon Page

believed the concoctions were medicine. Even after drinking nothing but these false cures, they did battle the illness and survive. Believing that they had potent medicine was enough to cure them.”
    She pushed up her veil. He was shielding her so no one could see her. “But I did not believe making love with you would heal me. I didn’t expect it would, so I wouldn’t have convinced myself it did. It just happened.”
    “There’s one thing to do.” He bent to her throat. His fingers stroked there, and his lips came so close to her ear she moaned softly. Yet he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he said hoarsely, “We’ll have to try it again.”

    Why had he said that? As a gentleman, he was supposed to marry her, not seduce her. But Lady O was pressed against the column, with her veil tossed back and her breasts lifting with her quick breaths. With her soft, shimmery lips, sparkling eyes, dewy skin, she looked like an iced cake presented on a silver dish.
    It was as if he had never discovered until now, until he’d looked at Lady O, how beautiful a woman could be.
    Matthew bent to her neck and nibbled her skin. She smelled of roses and soap. He wanted to seduce her here, against the column. He wanted to kiss and suckle her beautiful, pert breasts. Lift her skirts and find heaven between her legs.
    She had the most beautiful mouth. Her lips were wide, but not full, yet they were incredibly expressive. When he watched her mouth, he couldn’t look away.
    Even with Harriet moaning and shrieking, even with a wild carnal display taking place behind him, he was more entranced with Lady O’s mouth than with busty Harriet’s orgasm.
    Never before had he met a woman he would call irresistible. At least, not before Lady O.
    Matthew grasped her arm more roughly than he intended. “Octavia, I want to fuck you,” he murmured. “I would love to do it. Hell, I need to do it. But first—hell, for what I need to do, we cannot be here.”
    They had to pass through the room to get to the door. Fortunately everyone was watching Harriet. She was bouncing on top of one man who lay on the chaise. Another gent was on top of her, obviously buried in her arse. Balanced on her elbows, she held two men’s shafts in her hands, played with another two cocks with her toes, and suckled the seventh man’s cock. The eight was straddling her back, pointing his cock toward her generous rump, and obviously intending to slide his prick beside that of the man already in her.
    Once upon a time, Matthew would have been intrigued to watch. Humans invented a staggering number of sexual pleasures—learning what they would do was like finding a new species of animal. But right now, he had no interest at all.
    He hustled Octavia around the back of the crowd, hoping she would not see what was happening on the daybed. He feared she could, especially when she gave a huge gasp.
    He steered her to the front foyer. A sharp summons had her cloak brought to her. By the time he had her at the sidewalk, his carriage was rattling to a halt in the street.
    “Where are we going?” she asked.
    “I should take you home. I have no right to touch you, not now that I know who you are.” Not until I propose marriage and you accept.
    “But I—I want to feel well again. Please—I learned you are leaving England, so I won’t have many chances. But before you go, couldn’t we do it a few times? I want to feel strong again. Please. ”
    God, she was lovely. Unspeakably beautiful, with her lush, voluptuous mouth and hopeful blue eyes.
    “We could begin in the carriage,” she said matter-of-factly. “Should we undress?”
    “Not yet,” he said tersely. He was certain he could already smell the rich, erotic scent from between her legs, but given the layers of skirts how was it possible? She was unbelievably tempting. It was as if she had cast a magic spell over him.
    “I’ll do it,” he said, “if you agree to marry me.”
     
    “If I do what? ”
    Octavia stared at