Punished Bride: Keyhole Romance

By Lyla Sinclair

Christina doesn't understand why her new husband spends so little time with her by day and, at night, she feels as if there should be more to their intimacy beyond basic coupling. Meanwhile, she's lonely on the estate and desperate for news from the outside world, so she allows Percy to visit when her husband is out of town. Until one day, when Percy goes too far…

 

Tipped off by a servant, Damon—Lord Pembroke—comes home to find his wife in the arms of another man. Damon is livid and, after he takes care of Percy, decides he must teach his young wife a lesson about entertaining men in his absence. Since they married, he's been torn between what he wants to do with her and what he promised her pious parents he wouldn't do so they'd allow him them to marry.

 

But Christina seems to have disregarded her vows to him, so he has abandoned his vow to her parents. Now, his bride needs to be punished and anything goes.

 

(Keyhole Romances are historical erotic romances by Lyla Sinclair)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyla Sinclair
• Release date: Oct 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223286004

Lyla Sinclair

Lyla loves to be alone at sunset, dreaming up new erotic encounters to satisfy her readers' cravings. But most of the day, she can be found lying on the beach, surrounded by nubile young bodies, all of whom are at her beck and call. Eyes closed, sun warming her scantily clad body, she dictates her most lurid fantasies to one of her young sex-slaves as she’s massaged, manicured and lulled to sleep by a nude Spanish guitarist. These catnaps are important, since her nights are spent gorging herself on young men and chocolate (though she never, ever gains weight).

Book preview

Chapter One

Christina

I smoothed the skirt of my bright blue dress as I watched nervously from the sitting room window. Sir Percival Farley’s coach pulled to a stop in front of the manor.

I breathed in a shaky breath. I knew I shouldn’t allow his visits and certainly not his flirtations. I was a married woman, after all.

And, truth be told, I wasn’t keen on Percy, even as an acquaintance. But with Percy came stories about the outside world and I was desperate for those.

Being untouched when I married, perhaps my expectations were unreasonable. I thought the desire I felt for my intended Damon, and his obvious attraction for me would provide us endless breathless intimacies.

But once we’d married and I’d moved to his country estate, the Earl had shown no interest by day, and little more by night.

Most nights he came to my bed, removed my covers and pulled my nightdress up—just enough to allow him between my thighs. He thrust inside me for several minutes, then left me to my rest.

What a disappointment! How could I have been so misguided about the passions I imagined simmering behind his hot gaze?

I was brought back to reality when Simms opened the parlor door and announced my visitor.

I could see the condemnation in Sims’ eyes. He’d worked for my husband for many years and was obviously disapproving of the company I kept when the Earl was away.

Percy entered with a sweep of his hat and a bow. How is my flaxen-haired beauty today?

Perhaps it was shameful of me to enjoy the flattery, but a woman needs to be reassured she is desirable, especially when her two months of marriage has indicated she may not be.

Oh, Percy, you goose. I never took his compliments too seriously. I’d seen him act this way around other women. Certainly, I wasn’t planning to allow him any liberties. My family had raised me too well for that.

Besides, even at his most charming, I didn’t find Percy one-tenth as compelling as I did my husband.

If only Pembroke hadn’t married you first, we would have had beautiful goslings together.

Oh, my. The end of his sentence was scandalous. Percy was taking this game too far. His comment implied that he was imagining what it would be like if he and I created children together, which was quite inappropriate.

Sit down and have some tea. I gestured to the chair across from me, but, instead, he came around and sat on the other end of the settee I was inhabiting.

Simms whisked into the room with the silver tray. I wondered if he’d been listening at the door.

Is that a new dress? Percy asked as our tea was being served.

Why, yes, the dressmaker just brought it for me a few days ago.

The color is stunning on you, he said as I grew increasingly uncomfortable. Did she match it precisely to your eyes?

Ah-hum, Simms said as if clearing his throat.

I wished Percy wouldn’t sound so forward, especially when Simms was in the room. He really was shameless, it seemed.

No, not purposefully, I don’t think. It was time to change the topic of conversation to something other than my physical attributes. Now, tell me of the news, Percy. I know you’ve been gallivanting around the countryside, as always, while I’ve been terribly bored the past few weeks.

Apparently, Simms could find nothing further to occupy him in the salon, so he walked out, but I noticed he left the door open.

Percy scooted closer to me—uncomfortably close—and I wished Simms would return. Percy clasped my gloved hand. I hate to think of you bored...for any length of time. He pulled, forcing me to lean toward him.

My nerves froze me in place. I tried to think of an excuse to stand and politely excuse myself from his presence, but nothing came to mind, especially since he’d only just arrived.

I managed to reclaim my hand, but he was so close, I could feel the heat radiating from his body. And how did one appropriately move a guest from his preferred seat to another?

He turned his body toward me, his knees pressing against my thighs. Something in his gaze became more predatory. Perhaps we can find a way to make your life more exciting," he rasped.

I’d never had a man talk to me thusly before, in a leering whisper. Percy didn’t seem quite as harmless as he had up until now.

I experienced a moment of fright wondering how he would react when I extricated myself from his hold. Warnings began to sound in my head. Something was different about him this time. I feared he didn’t plan to stop at gossip and flattery.

My muscles tensed to move, but I wasn’t quick enough.

Percy grasped the back of my head with his free hand and pressed his lips against mine. As I tried to wrench free, he tightened his hold and forced his tongue into my mouth.

Even my husband had never invaded me in such a manner. I shuddered in disgust and pushed hard on Percy’s chest, but he didn’t budge.

Suddenly, I heard a sound, like the roar of the lion from my trip to London Zoo.  A surprised squeak escaped Percy’s lips as he flew off me.

I watched as my husband, Earl of Pembroke, pulled Percy into the entry by the back of his jacket, then turned him around and slammed his fist into Percy’s face.

The force threw Percy to the ground. He lay there, whimpering like a beaten dog.

My husband glanced at me, his eyes appearing black, rather than their usual warm brown.

Broad shouldered and at least a foot taller than Percy, his presence filled the house in a way a man like Percy could only dream of.

But I saw the look in Damon’s eyes. He thought I was a willing participant in that kiss.

I forced myself to stand on shaky legs as I wiped Percy from my mouth with the back of my hand.

Get out of this house before I retrieve my pistol, Damon said to Percy. Percy scrambled to get to his feet, but Damon grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket. Don’t ever set foot on my property again. If you are invited to a ball, ask the host if my wife and I will be in attendance. If so, you won’t be. If I set eyes on your countenance again, you will rue the day.

Percy nodded mutely. When Damon released him, he scampered out like a frightened squirrel.

I watched as Damon took slow deliberate steps toward the front door and shut it silently. He was obviously a man fighting for self-control.

I took several steps toward him into the entry. Thank you, my lord. If you hadn’t come when you did—

"What, my dear? You and Percy would have copulated on my Persian carpet?"

Copulated? Dear God! No, Damon, I didn’t want—

Save your lies. You are just burying yourself deeper in them. He closed the distance between us and wound his fingers through my hair, giving no care to the painstaking ringlets my maid Beth had created, nor