Starlight

By Isadora Rose

Consumed by the memories of a dark past, the very last thing that Esther Ellis wants is to become swept away on another love affair that will end in inevitable heartbreak. But the salacious French count, Tristan de Laurent, proves to be impossible to resist and he convinces her that six sinful days in his arms can do no harm. However, when the ghosts of days gone by force themselves into the present, they threaten to ruin everything for them both...

~

The jasmine vines that she had been lingering beneath seemed to conspire with the moonlight. Its heady, cloying scent danced around the two of them as he lowered his head to seek out her wide blue eyes with his own. Consumed by his need for her, Tristan turned his head to the side and brushed the gentlest of kisses against the curve of her throat. “We have not met, I think?”

She shuddered. “No – I would remember if we had.”

Her nervous answer pleased him. “Yes.”

The unknown Frenchman was making no attempt to mask the dark spark of lust in his eyes as he pulled his head back to stare at her intently. To Esther’s frustration and fear, just the briefest touch of his soft lips upon her throat had been enough to drive away any thoughts of fleeing from him. She wanted him more than she had wanted any other man before and she did not think she had the strength to deny herself.

A slow, lazy smile began to play around the corners of Tristan’s thin lips as he correctly read her reaction to him. “So, tell me your name, beautiful stranger.”

His whispered command was impossible to disobey. She closed her eyes with a low, tremulous sigh as he brushed a stray tendril of blonde hair away from her flushed face and left his hand there to capture her chin, tilting it up towards his as he awaited her answer.

“Esther,” she slowly replied, tensing as his free hand moved up from her waist to rest against the exposed line of her collarbone. “Esther Ellis, Lady Malone.”

“Ah, how very lovely!” Tristan could not hold himself back. The creamy skin spilling out over the top of her bodice was far too tempting. As he spoke, he allowed his fingers to dance across the curve of her full breasts and gloried in the sharp and ragged breath that she drew, for it was loaded with the same desperate hunger that he too felt. “Your name means ‘star’, Esther, does it not?”

The sound of her name murmured so intimately in his sultry accent had her arching against him as he became bolder, cupping her breasts through the gown and brushing his fingers over the treacherously stiffened nipples that he so longed to capture between his lips. “Y-yes, sir.”

He laughed softly. “And of all the stars in the skies above us, Esther, you are the one that shines most brightly, the one I cannot take my eyes away from.”

His charming words were those of a man evidently well-versed in seduction, but Esther found that she did not even care how many women were in his past. She was hardly as pure as the driven snow – but their pasts did not matter. All that mattered was submitting to the control of the gloriously abandoned and debauched lust that was coursing through her feverish body...

~

• Language: English
• Publisher: Isadora Rose
• Release date: Nov 8, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301555840

Isadora Rose

Isadora Rose is a nom de plume for this author to unleash some of her darker tales upon the users of Smashwords. You won't find PWP here - if that's your thing, then great, but I believe that the experience of reading erotica is enhanced by a story woven throughout that pulls you in just as surely as the erotic encounters themselves. My stories are written with that aim in mind. I make no apology for the dark twists and turns they might make, and I only hope that you enjoy the journey in every way. All reviews are gratefully read and much appreciated.

Book preview

Starlight

By Isadora Rose

Copyright 2012 Isadora Rose

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for the recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

Esther Ellis paced around the edge of the ballroom with no care for the intrigued and thinly-veiled looks of concern she was attracting, for she had eyes for only one man – the man who had not taken his own eyes away from her since she had come into the ballroom an hour ago.

She did not even want to be here, but Eleanor’s invitation had been impossible to decline. As godmother-to-be to her oldest friend’s infant daughter, avoiding the festivities surrounding the christening was an impossibility. Here she was, trapped in the manor for the next week – and held entranced against her will by the attention being paid to her by the glorious and devilish stranger.

Esther chanced a swift and direct look at him when the crowds between them momentarily parted. He was sinfully handsome; his wavy hair fell casually around his dark eyes and his muscular form was making him the centre of attention for almost every other woman in attendance.

Still, though, it was only her that he watched. His heated stare continued to follow her around the room as she restlessly moved amongst the crowd, quickening her breath and bringing a rapid blaze of colour across her face that crept down towards her breasts, pebbling her nipples until she was sure the effect he had upon her must be obvious to all.

Esther was growing more agitated by the moment. Whoever he was, he was watching her with a fire in his eyes that threatened far more than any stranger had a right to do. He reminded her of a wolf stalking its prey, lean and unrelenting, biding its time in the unerring confidence that it would succeed; and somehow, the thought of allowing him to take all that the hunger in his dark eyed intimated was strangely alluring.

She needed to speak to Eleanor, to at the very least discover the identity of the man who was managing to affect her in a way she wanted no man to have the power to, even across the distance that separated them.

When she skirted around the edge of the ballroom in search of her friend, though, the stranger’s stare seemed to intensify as he broke free of the throng gathered around him. His destination seemed to Esther to be very obvious. He was coming for her – and he would easily cut her off before she reached the doors leading away from the ballroom.

The French doors nearer to her, however, had been thrown open to lead out into the vast and winding gardens that surrounded the manor. They held the promise of blissful relief from both the watchful stranger and from the heavy tension that hung in the thick air around her.

Esther trusted to the crowds to conceal her as she lowered her head and darted out into the gardens, only breathing more freely when she looked over her shoulder to see no sign of him. A relentless wave of heat inflamed her veins as a heady and unwelcome desire spiralled inside her, even though there was no longer any sign of the unnerving stranger.

She was no innocent girl naïve in the ways of sex and desire, but something about him called out to her in a way that no man had before. For a woman so determined never to allow herself to be vulnerable to any man again, it was a troubling development.

Esther paced back and forth in agitation, running her hands through the elaborate tower of curls piled atop her head and tugging the foremost ones free. The moon was shining brightly in the sky above, for it was a clear midsummer night. It must be late enough now that, once she was calm again, she would be able to make her excuses and retreat to her bedchamber. By the morning the stranger would doubtless be gone. If she had to face him at the christening, then so be it – that would hardly be the most difficult part of the day.

No sooner had she slowly begun to regain her composure, though, than four long fingers closed around her shoulder and turned her around to face their owner as he loomed out of the shadows.

"Ah...we are alone at last, ma chére."

He had followed her.

Tristan de Laurent rapidly closed the remaining distance between himself and the woman who had so enchanted him since he had first caught sight of her. He snaked a possessive arm around her slender waist as her breath hitched and then pulled her into the heat of his body. His suspicions had been right; she was spectacular.

He knew that he could have any pick of any of the breathless and simpering women who had attached themselves to his side in the ballroom, but it was this one who had captivated him entirely. Her disdain and her efforts to evade him had only increased his determination to have her – it was a rare woman indeed who could hold out against him.

Tristan breathed in deeply as he cast an appraising glance over the face of his beautiful little stranger. The glimpses he had won of her in the ballroom had been more than enough to harden his cock and convince him that he had to have her, but now that she was finally in his arms it was evident to see just how lovely she was.

Her curves were what had first caught his roving eye. The full breasts that were barely restrained by her low-cut golden gown were the perfect size to caress in the palms of his hands. The flare of her slender waist and wide hips filled him with the desire to take hold of her, roughly bend her over his bed and bury the full length of his cock inside her again and again; and much to his delight, she wore no ring - no band of gold to mark her out as another man’s possession. She would be his.

The jasmine vines that she had been lingering beneath seemed to conspire with the moonlight. Its heady, cloying scent danced around the two of them as he lowered his head to seek out her wide blue eyes with his own. Consumed by his need for her, Tristan turned his head to the side and brushed the gentlest of kisses against the curve of her throat. We have not met, I think?

She shuddered. No – I would remember if we had.

Her nervous answer pleased him. Yes.

The unknown Frenchman was making no attempt to mask the dark spark of lust in his eyes as he pulled his head back to stare at her intently. To Esther’s frustration and fear, just the briefest touch of his soft lips upon her throat had been enough to drive away any thoughts of fleeing from him. She wanted him more than she had wanted any other man before and she did not think she had the strength to deny herself.

A slow, lazy smile began to play around the corners of Tristan’s thin lips as he correctly read her reaction to him. So, tell me your name, beautiful stranger.

His whispered command was impossible to disobey. She closed her eyes with a low, tremulous sigh as he brushed a stray tendril of blonde hair away from her flushed face and left his hand there to capture her chin, tilting it up towards his as he awaited her answer.

Esther, she slowly replied, tensing as his free hand moved up from her waist to rest against the exposed line of her collarbone. Esther Ellis, Lady Malone.

Ah, how very lovely! Tristan could not hold himself back. The creamy skin spilling out over the top of her bodice was far too tempting. As he spoke, he allowed his fingers to dance across the curve of her full breasts and gloried in the sharp and ragged breath that she drew, for it was loaded with the same desperate hunger that he too felt. Your name means ‘star’, Esther, does it not?

The sound of her name murmured so intimately in his sultry accent had her arching against him as he became bolder, cupping her breasts through the gown and brushing his fingers over the treacherously stiffened nipples that he so longed to capture between his lips. Y-yes, sir.

He laughed softly. And of all the stars in the skies above us, Esther, you are the one that shines most brightly, the one I cannot take my eyes away from.

His charming words were those of a man evidently well-versed in seduction, but Esther found that she did not even care how many women were in his past. She was hardly as pure as the driven snow – but their pasts did not matter. All that mattered was submitting to the control of the gloriously abandoned and debauched lust that was coursing through her feverish body.

Tristan’s pulse was racing, for the burning desire he felt for the flushed woman in his