His Harlot

By Natasha Blackthorne

He loved her but for all the wrong reasons...

Goodman Thomas Marlowe needs a wife. He loves his neighbor’s beautiful and sensual bondswoman Rosalind Abramson but for all the wrong reasons. A love based on lustful desires is not a worthy reason to marry a woman. And there can be no sex outside of marriage in Puritan New England. Valiantly, he fights to keep his feelings hidden. Yet he has been a widower for over a year and he burns inside with his fiery passionate desires. He can't eat, he can't sleep, he can't think of anything but his lovely Rosalind. He's reaching a breaking point and facing a painful decision.

Rosalind yearns for the handsome Goodman Marlowe. Yet beneath his kind action lies a cool distance that tells her he cannot forgive Rosalind’s shameful past. She’s determined to deny an infatuation with a man who will never respect her.

Thomas knows he needs a wife. It is better to marry than to burn. However, he cannot focus on finding a bride while the unsuitable Rosalind is always so close and so alluring. Now he’s about to take a teaching position in another town. It’s the perfect escape for a man tormented by unacceptable carnal desire.

Late one night, in the midst of a summer’s hot spell, Thomas spies Rosalind in the woods, clad only in her shift, dancing in the moonlight. It’s really more than a man celibate for three years can bear. Thomas is in danger of falling into a sin so powerful it threatens to challenge everything he thinks he knows about himself and life...

*** Short Novella ~~ 21,778 words in length ***

"I loved this sensual tale from beginning to end. Both characters touched my heart. Natasha writes historical erotic romance that sizzles and heats up the pages. Her writing blends together perfectly. The details take you into her world and make you want to stay there...
This story will stay with me for a long time to come. This is a must read! " ~ Let's Get Romantical

"I remember when I first started reading historical romances..how I was so engulfed in the stories of love and just the premise of a woman being swept off her feet by someone who she totally wasn't expecting. I haven't read historical romances in a loooong while and Natasha Blackthorne is one of the reasons why I started to love this genre again." ~ Salacious Reads

His Harlot was awarded the "Recommended Read" award by Two Lips Reviews:

"...a very sensual but romantic love story, and having the hero as a Puritan with specific views of sex and marriage, and the heroine a person with the same views though skewed by her own experiences only makes their struggle to find some common ground that much more dramatic." ~ Two Lips Reviews.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natasha Blackthorne
• Release date: Apr 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463914366

Book preview

What people are saying about Natasha Blackthorne

I haven't been disappointed with a Natasha Blackthorne historical romance as of yet... the men, yes… they are strong and dominant, but they also support their women in everything. These men are written with strength and purpose... Thank you Natasha for helping me love historical romance once again. Salacious Reads, Review of A Measured Risk, June 2012,

YES! YES! YES! Natasha Blackthorne, it is authors like you that make historical reads worth reading… You have captured and implemented the substance that makes the characters come alive and interesting with their emotions leaving the reader excited and feeling the emotions themselves. Queentutt’s World of Escapism, Review of Grey’s Lady, November 2011

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

His Harlot

©Copyright 2013 Natasha Blackthorne

Cover Art

©Copyright The Killion Group, Inc. 2014

Edited by John Rauch

*** His Harlot was previously published as A Midsummer’s Sin ***

All rights reserved. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including email or IM, without prior written permission from the author, Natasha Blackthorne, at [e-mail], or within the sharing guidelines at a legitimate library or bookseller.

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction, sharing, or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.

DISCLAIMER: This e-book contains explicit erotic scenes and graphic sexual language. Some readers may consider such content offensive. It is for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country and/or state where this e-book was purchased. Please store your files where minors cannot access them.

This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Please do not attempt to use this book as a how-to book for any topic. It is not meant to be a guide or a representation of modern BDSM practices or lifestyles. Please seek the guidance of an experienced practitioner and/or your personal physician before trying any new sexual practice. The author, Natasha Blackthorne, will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of her titles.

Other Titles by Natasha Blackthorne

Her Mystery Duke (Erotic Regency Romance)

The Delicate Matter of Lady Blayne (Erotic Regency Romance)

Waltz of Seduction ~ A Steamy Regency Novella

Regency Risks Series (Erotic Regency Romance)

A Measured Risk

Trust Me

Perilous Risk

Wild, Wicked and Wanton (Erotic Georgian/Regency Romance set in America)

Grey’s Lady

White Lace and Promises

Alex’s Angel

Emily’s Seduction

A Wanton Indiscretion

The Fashionably Impure Series (Erotic Regency Romance set in England)

Miranda’s Dilemma

A Most Demanding Mistress

Sacrifice

Chapter One

New Balcombe, Massachusetts Bay Colony

Summer, 1690

She wore only a shift.

Moonlight illuminated the thin cloth into a shimmering veil. The glowing ivory of her gentle, generous curves, hints of rose-pink nipples, a shadowy triangle between her long, lithesome legs—all teased Thomas’ imagination.

Blood rushed from his head to fill his cock.

Heart thundering, he leaned against the tree. He barely dared to take a steadying breath lest the vision of that girl dancing in the clearing disappear and prove itself a mere figment of his long-starved lust.

Dear sweet Christ.

Not since his days at Oxford had he seen a woman’s body displayed so wantonly, and then only in dimly-lit rented chambers. Never in brilliant moonlight.

The wind calmed. The rustling leaves of the tall trees grew silent. Her laughter carried to him. The sound—so free, so girlish—sent pleasurable shivers through him, sensual and immediate, as if a woman had raked her nails softly down his back. His erection throbbed, getting bigger, stiffer, straining his breeches. Sweating, he grasped himself and gave his aching shaft a firm squeeze.

God. The need was more than a man, a widower of over a year, could bear.

More so for Thomas. Physical passion had repulsed his wife. For his beloved Patience’s sake, after the conception of his son, he’d left her in peace. Now he’d been three years without the ease of a woman’s soft, warm body…

That girl—Rosalind Abramson—was everything he craved.

She was within reach.

They were alone.

He wanted to go her. To seize her. To crush that beguiling body against his own.

No! He released his cock and took a deep steadying breath. He’d mastered his passions. He was a Puritan now, no longer a libertine.

He would not yield.

He closed his eyes, but all he saw was hair burning like flames in the noon sun. He was taken back to a year ago when he had been riding in a carriage on a squalid London street.

He had been with his family, on his way to board the Abigail for Boston. His son had taken ill from the stench of the docks and had forced them to halt. Thomas stood outside the vehicle, talking with the driver as they allowed the interior to air.

Then he saw her. Rosalind. She wore no head covering—her curls bounced wildly as she ran towards him. She held her skirts—the most garish hue of green he’d ever beheld—high enough to display trim ankles and well-turned calves clad in pale pink silk stockings that gave her legs the appearance of being completely bare. She lifted her knees and ran like a boy. A fine sheen of sweat sparkled on her flushed face and on the exposed tops of her generous breasts.

Thomas inhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the memory away. But the image only intensified.

She had increased her pace.

She came upon him so fast, he thought she would crash into him. His man’s body, so starved for the touch of feminine flesh, tensed in anticipation of her body colliding with his.

At the last moment, she turned, her large eyes caught his—full of terror—he could feel it reverberate in his own bones… His heart contracted with sympathy. As she hauled herself into the open carriage door, a whoosh of air, scented with roses and musk, blew over him.

The carriage where his wife waited.

The crack of a branch yanked him back to the present.

She was still in the clearing.

Dancing in the moonlight.

Half naked.

As his neighbour’s bondswoman, Rosalind was always so close, so desirable. Yet so utterly uninterested in him. She was warm and friendly to others. Yet she remained aloof, superior, as if he’d never done her any kindness.

But now she shared all with him, however unwittingly.

They were alone.

Alone.

A single chance to have her without risk of discovery. There would be no consequences. He need only reach out and take. He inhaled deeply. Dear God, give him the strength to resist.

Lost to her enjoyment, she laughed again. His cock went so rigid that his arousal bordered on pain.

He could take her. But it wouldn’t be enough. His feelings for her went beyond simple lust.

He loved Rosalind. He adored the nut-brown freckles that speckled across her cheeks as the summer days grew long and hot. The way tendrils of her fiery-red hair constantly escaped her cap to flutter about her face and the way they grew frazzled on rainy days. The curve of her smile and the timbre of her voice and the lazy sway of her walk. He knew all about her, what she’d been—an actress, a woman of easy virtue. It didn’t matter. She captivated him. He couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else.

Nevertheless, Rosalind was not a fit wife.

He loved her, aye, he loved her more with every passing day but in all the wrong ways. To even think of wedding her—after the pure, pious love he’d shared with Patience—was a sacrilege.

How could he contemplate making a former actress his beloved daughter Hannah’s stepmother?

God save him. His past was full of sensual, sinful decadence. He’d filled his time with nothing but transgressions before Patience had saved him with the example of her steadfast faith and love. He had been so inspired by her. By the peace her religion gave her. He’d been blessed with his conversion experience. Through his strength of will, he had purified his behaviour and thoughts.

He had changed forever.

Or so he thought.

Dear God, he was lost without his Patience.

And never more lost than here in the moonlight, alone with Rosalind. Just a fortnight away from leaving to teach at Harvard College in Cambridge village—he’d almost escaped unscathed.

His feelings for Rosalind were based on the same savage carnality that had almost undone him in his youth. If he slipped, even once, he would surely be overcome by sin. He would drown in wicked excess.

Home. That was where he belonged. But he couldn’t stop himself from taking a step towards