Sir Malcolm strode into the room and thrust his hand roughly between Olivia’s gaping thighs, the captive brunette fighting down a moan of pleasure as he fingered her and felt the slick wetness attesting to her continuing arousal.
“Hmph,” he grated, “Hot little passion slut, aren’t you? Excellent.”
He raised his voice to a bellow, “Cameron. Cameron. Where the devil are you?”
Olivia quivered wildly as, seconds later, the footsteps of a second man entered the room where she knelt in helpless bondage and total exposure.
“Ah, there you are, Cameron. About time.”
“I am sorry, your Lordship. I was in the servant’s quarters, polishing some silver.”
It was not a voice Olivia recognised and she closed her eyes, embarrassingly aware that her whip striped buttocks and glistening s*x were lewdly
