Wedding Night Submission

By Em Brown

Charles Gallant will be damned if he allows his new wife to spend their wedding night with another man. But damned he is.

This night could make or break Gallant’s career. Determined to earn the support of Lord Wendlesson for her husband, the bride will stop at nothing to please his lordship.

READER ADVISORY: This novellette should be read *after* the Master & Temptress Trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Em Brown
• Release date: May 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781942822103

Em Brown

After accidentally flashing an audience with her knickers, Em Brown decided that writing was a safer activity. She enjoys writing romance, particularly erotic historicals. For more about her works, visit www.EroticHistoricals.com.

Book preview

Wedding Night Submission

A Sequel to the Master and Temptress Trilogy

by Em Brown

Table of Contents

A Gentle Warning

Copyright

Offer

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

From Em Brown

Other Works

A GENTLE WARNING

This novel contains darker BDSM elements, themes of submission and dominance, and many other forms of wicked wantonness.

Copyright © 2015 by Wind Color Press. All Rights Reserved.

Cover art by The Killion Group.

Wedding Night Submission

CHAPTER ONE

INSTEAD OF MAKING love to his new wife, Charles Gallant was to spend his wedding night in the company of the Viscount Wendlesson. Needless to say, Charles was hardly pleased at the situation, but his bride had an uncanny way of forcing his hand.

But he would have his revenge.

He would teach his wayward wife not to barter herself—especially for his gain. She was not a commodity to be traded. He still could not believe that Lord Wendlesson would agree to offer as much as twenty shillings a voter in exchange for one night with Miss Terrell.

Terrell. Mrs. Charles Gallant.

Bloody hell.

In the quaint parlor where they had just held the wedding ceremony and now celebrated with Madame’s best wine, Charles looked to his bride. Dressed in the provocative attire of an Egyptian queen, Terrell looked stunning. The linen molded to her curves. Though she had spent a good part of her life half-starved while a slave in Barbados, she now had enough flesh to entice. The gods had formed her a temptress, and she wielded her body as well as a soldier his weapon. Charles had known that instant, when she had first blocked his path upon the stairs, that he was in danger of losing the battle of forbearance. But he had not expected to surrender his heart.

You should have my best room, of course, for your wedding night, said Joan Devereux, the proprietress of the inn where men and women indulged their most wicked forms of prurience.

Charles clenched a hand. As much as he would have liked to make use of the various implements of pain and pleasure available to him at the inn, he only desired to bring Terrell back to the safety of his town home. Though he enjoyed playing with Terrell, he had a greater interest in expressing his appreciation in a more gentle and loving manner. Mere hours ago, he had thought he had lost her, as he had once lost Miss Greta.

And for your wedding present, I gift to you a full year’s membership to the Red Chrysanthemum gratis, Joan added.

Thank you, Madame, said Terrell. We should quite like to have the room on the second floor. May we retire there now?

I would have a moment alone with my wife first, Charles interceded.

While the others in the room made to depart, the Viscount Wendlesson did not. The viscount was an imposing gentleman with a thick and solid build. He had a square physiognomy, shoulders and chest. But Charles had gone through hell and back today and was not intimidated. Earlier he had forsaken the patronage of Sir Arthur, a most influential member of Parliament, and forever earned the man's wrath. If Charles should come to blows with the viscount, it would be a small matter by comparison.

Beside Wendlesson stood his wife, Katherine. Unlike Terrell, she was petite and delicate in form, her countenance pale and classically lovely. The viscountess possessed the features Charles was accustomed to appreciating, but he had fallen, and fallen hard, for the spell cast by the blackamoor.

He stared at the viscount, who, after a moment’s pause, bowed, and said, We shall await you in the hall.

Alone at last, Charles returned his gaze to Terrell. The light from the fire in the hearth seemed to glow upon her unblemished complexion, and especially upon her breasts, for the sheath beneath her sheer drape only wrapped her lower body and torso. Two wide straps covered her nipples, but the rest of the sumptuous orbs shined bare. The blood in his loins stirred. He was inclined to rip the fabric from her and take her then and there.

We should not keep his lordship waiting too long, Terrell said.

Damn the viscount, he thought. Unable to resist her, he encircled her waist and pulled her to him. Cupping the side of her face with his other hand, he traced her plump lower lip with his thumb. I have yet to administer your punishment, Mrs. Gallant.

In speaking her new address, it was as if he wished to remind her that she now belonged to him.

She stalled. My punishment?

Do not play coy, my love.

She pursed her lips. She knew she had earned a punishment for eluding her confinement earlier that day. She had done so by breaking a vase, a rare porcelain from the Yuan dynasty, over this valet’s head.

I should like nothing more, she purred in a manner that made his groin tighten. Perhaps you would care to administer my punishment before the Wendlessons.

I would not, he growled, remembering that she had once lifted her skirts beneath the viscount—or he was fairly certain she had.

"I think it would please his lordship greatly to witness your abilities upon me. And if we