THE TUTOR
Please be aware that this excerpt contains sensual content that is only suitable
for adult readers who are comfortable with frank language and descriptions of
erotic scenarios
Blurb
When Rosalind Howard becomes Julian Hadey's private librarian she soon finds herself attracted by his persuasive charms and distinguished appearance.
Julian is an unashamed sensualist who, together with his wife, Celeste, has hatched an intriguing challenge for their new employee. As well as cataloguing their collection of erotica, Rosie is expected to educate Celeste's young and beautiful cousin David in the arts of erotic love. Having led a sheltered life, the young man is simmering with youthful passion.
In luxurious surroundings Rosie finds herself drawn into increasingly decadent scenarios where experimental sex is on the menu and like-minded libertines read the rewards of unbridled desire.
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Excerpt
She's right. She is perfect for the job, he thought, and took a sip
of the exquisite bone-dry sherry that Rosie had earlier refused in favour of
a sweeter, more feminine variety.
The woman he'd just employed had left now, clutching her dark and educational
books, and looking faintly bemused. Julian Hadey recalled her presence with
some satisfaction, both applauding his own split second decision, and feeling
a fresh wave of sexual excitement about the lovely young body he'd selected.
He smiled as he imagined her. A pretty, northern 'lass'. Rosie. Well-named, because
she did have a bloom about her. A sexy innocent lushness that would be so useful
for what lay ahead.
Good for me too, he reflected. Technically, he hadn't intended her
for himself; but if she was willing - and he was perfectly certain she was -
there was no reason why he shouldn't also enjoy her.
He was back in his library now, and as he shifted his hips in the deep leather
armchair, in an attempt to ease to his erection, he pictured how she'd looked
here earlier. The body that'd inspired his hardness. Specifically, he saw again
the sight that'd plagued him throughout the whole of the interview - that truly
gorgeous cleavage between those long, charcoal grey lapels. A deep and succulent
cleft that was designed for the male mouth to forage in. And not just the mouth.
He wondered what she'd thought of his scrutiny. Julian had never hidden his abiding
interest in women and their bodies; he felt it dishonest, somehow, to snatch furtive
peeks and stolen leers. If he admired a woman, he told her with his eyes; and
thus far his frankness had always been rewarded.
Putting aside his sherry, he laid his hand across his groin and considered Rosie
Howard.
She was an intriguing and mouthwatering girl, and quite obviously not what
she'd tried so hard to project herself as. Her performance had been good, granted,
but he sensed that her smooth, sleek style had been a one-off act, or a persona
that was still quite new to her. The idea that she'd been trying to deceive
him - just as much as he had her - both aroused and amused him. There was much
entertainment ahead, he decided, his smile widening. For both of them.
Beneath his fingers, his flesh was like iron. Had she noticed it? he pondered.
Seen it pushing at the fly of his jeans? He'd felt her studying him as they'd
talked - at least as intently as he was studying her. What would she have done
if he'd calmly unzipped and taken himself in hand, as he wanted to do now. He
rather thought she'd be alarmed at first, her blue eyes wide with outrage. After
a moment though, her look would soften and grow smoky, and she'd move forward
and touch him. Stroke his silky stiffness, then fall to her knees and take it
deep in her scarlet-painted mouth.
'Oh yes,' he whispered aloud, aware that he'd pushed himself too far in his fantasy
to back out now, in reality. Relief was essential. He saw no reason to suffer
further. Sighing, he unbuckled his belt, drew down his zip, and pushing down his
snug-fitting underpants, drew himself out into the open.
After a moment of simply enjoying the air on his flesh, he began to adjust
his position for further comfort. The people who worked for him were aware of
his sensual nature, and never disturbed him unnecessarily. He had all the total
privacy he needed, here in his own library, yet the
fact that it was broad daylight, and others were moving efficiently about their
duties not far away, only added to the piquancy of the act.
Leaning back, closing his eyes, he saw Rosie Howard spread before him on a
bed. On her bed, the one that was prepared for her upstairs at his behest. The
sheets were crisp cotton in the deepest pink - as if he'd known, uncannily,
what her chosen name would be - and her white body looked paler than ever against
them. Her delicious white body that seemed to cry out in silence for his darker
one.
© Portia Da Costa and Virgin Books 1995 and 2015
DIGITAL
Amazon Kindle :: US :: UK :: CA :: AU
iBooks :: US :: UK :: CA :: AU
Also available from :: Barnes and Noble :: Kobo
PRINT
Amazon :: US :: UK :: CA
Also available from :: Barnes and Noble :: Waterstones :: W H Smith
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