Prologue

London

January 17, 1872

A Wednesday

Ihate you!" Lady Io Hale snarled as Corbin Masterson bent her over the back of the settee and gave her bottom three hard slaps.

"I hate you more," Masterson snarled right back, delivering another three swats that were even harder, until Io's body hummed with need for him.

"Lift your skirts. Now!" He gave her another hard swat when she didn't move fast enough for his taste.

Io was tempted to tell him to go to the devil, but she wanted him too badly, and so she hastily hiked the heavy velvet gown up to her waist.

Masterson hissed in a harsh breath when he saw that she had worn nothing else today—not even drawers. "You hussy!"

It sounded more like a compliment than an insult and Io smirked at both his accusation and his hungry tone.

Aside from her brother Zeus, the Duke of Hastings, Corbin Masterson was the most conventional, conservative, and repressed man Io had ever met. Most of the time.

But not when he was in the bedchamber.

She knew it must drive him half-mad that his sexual tastes aligned so perfectly with a woman like her.

Io was more than a little dumbfounded herself that she had anything at all in common with Corbin Masterson—aside from their mutual dislike, which had sparked between them since the first moment they met—but the last six weeks they'd spent as lovers had been eye-opening, to say the least. Somehow this stern, prim, and aloof man had discovered cravings within her that she never would have imagined existed.

Cravings like spankings…

Masterson stroked Io's bare buttock with one large, warm palm. "Your skin marks beautifully," he muttered quietly, as if to himself. He followed his words with a series of flat palmed swats that made Io's eyes water.

And that wasn't all that happened.

Her infuriating lover stroked a bold finger between the folds of her sex. "You get so wet for me." His smug tone was both annoying and arousing, like so much about this man.

Masterson might act like a humorless, moralizing prig toward the rest of the world, but the man knew his way around a female body, and not just to take his own pleasure, either. Who would have guessed?

One of the things he enjoyed most was bringing her right to the edge of her climax and then maddeningly denying her satisfaction.

Which is what he was doing right now, toying with her in a way designed to make her even more desperately needy for him.

But Io had a few tricks of her own.

When Masterson continued to tease Io shifted lower over the settee, canting her hips and thrusting up her bottom in a way that never failed to drive him to distraction.

"My God." His guttural growl told her that it had worked just as well this time.

Even though they had been engaging in these furtive trysts for weeks, their lust for each other showed no sign of abating, which had been their stated intention when they'd agreed to commence these Wednesday assignations.

In fact, the opposite was proving true. Corbin Masterson was like a fever in Io's blood and she was determined to fuck him out of her system. It had to work.

It had to.

And why wouldn't it? It had worked so well in the past with Io's other lovers.

***

Corbin Masterson stared down at his hand as he massaged Io's spread, slick sex and felt the same howling, consuming hunger he always did with this blasted, infuriating, intoxicating woman.

He needed Io Hale worse than food or water.

Or at least that was how it felt most days.

Corbin slid his wet finger away from the source of her pleasure, smirking at her groan of frustration. She liked to be the boss in the bedchamber. So did Corbin. He greatly enjoyed proving to her just who was master again and again and again.

To that end, he stroked a finger slowly toward her back hole, spreading her copious arousal over the tight pink furl. They had done many things over the past weeks, but never had he explored this taboo part of her body.

Rather than be outraged or shocked—as any virtuous woman would and should be—Io merely chuckled throatily and thrust her ass higher. "Mmm, Masterson… that's so naughty."

Corbin's eyes narrowed. The vixen was mocking him, was she?

"I am going to take you back here next time." The words were out of his mouth before his brain had granted permission.

Predictably, Io barked a laugh.

Unpredictably, she said, "Of course you may do that."

Stupefaction, mixed with excitement and almost crippling arousal, caused pre-ejaculate to spurt from Corbin's tormented cock, contributing to the already mortifying stain on the front of his trousers.

And his heart seemed to have relocated to his throat.

"You would allow it?" he asked, surprised he could squeeze even that much around the obstructing organ and relieved that he did not sound a fraction as excited as he felt. Indeed, he sounded almost…bored.

"Mmm-hmm," she purred. "Right after I do it to you."

Corbin's jaw dropped and his finger froze. His mouth moved wordlessly for a moment, no doubt making him resemble a landed fish. He was beyond grateful that she could not see his foolish expression.

"I can almost see your face, Masterson," she said in a voice rich with amusement.

Not that she needed to see him to know what he looked like, evidently.

How on earth did this woman do that to him? He was almost forty years of age! He'd not blushed this much since—Hell! He had no recollection of ever blushing as much as he did in the presence of this twenty-five-year-old temptress.

Corbin scrambled to scavenge a scrap of dignity and retorted, "Fortunately for me you are not physically equipped to carry through with your threat, my lady."

Her lush body shook with mirth beneath his nerveless fingers. "Are you really unaware of how a woman can do such a thing?" She hooted at him. "Oh, Masterson! How I look forward to shattering your innocence and giving you that lesson. I can just imagine what your expression will be then."

Corbin's jaw sagged when her meaning struck him like a baseball bat to the side of the head.

"You will need to keep using your imagination, my lady, because I am hard pressed to imagine a less likely scenario than that one," he shot back.

As retorts went, it was pathetic. But it was better than admitting what was really going on in his mind, which was utter bafflement that any man would submit to such a thing.

"You really are a babe in arms, aren't you, darling? For your information, there is a spot inside the male rectum which yields a considerable amount of pleasure when stimulated. I would love to be the first to—"

Corbin gave her bottom a sharp smack. "Shut up, you obstreperous mantrap."

A peal of laughter filled the room.

He stared down at her beautiful body in wonder. This woman was unlike anyone Corbin had ever met—male or female. She was arrogant, crude, self-possessed, and she had absolutely invaded every nook and cranny of his being until he could scarcely think straight.

Not that Corbin would ever let her know that.

You poor fool. Don't you think she already knows?

Scowling, Corbin unbuttoned his trousers, freed his aching erection, and used the head of his cock to stroke the soft wet petals of her sex, teasingly nudging her sensitive clitoris—the only word he now used in Io's presence since the first time when he had referred to it as her pleasure button and she had laughed herself silly.

With each caress he earned soft, encouraging moans, sounds he felt inordinately proud of eliciting from this proud, demanding woman.

"So good, Masterson," she purred, pulsing her lush hips at him. "Put on a condom and fuck me, now."

Corbin's eyelids fluttered and his balls clenched up to his body so hard and fast that he almost spent at her crude command.

Bloody hell but she was a vulgar vixen! And there must be something wrong with him because he simply could not get enough of her.

Fortunately, he had developed iron control since meeting her weekly and enduring her sensual abuse—and reveling in her pleasure—and was able to keep from making a fool of himself.

At least when it came to condoms.

The first time they had made love—or fucked as Io insisted upon calling it—Corbin had fumbled so badly that he had torn one of the thin rubber johnnies before managing to pull on the infernal device.

Naturally, Io had mocked him cruelly.

Corbin firmly and viciously pushed the embarrassing memory from his thoughts and took the packet that he'd brought along with him, quickly and deftly sheathing his hard shaft.

He should have known that first time—when his reaction to the nagging harridan's taunting had been arousal rather than strangling her—that he was far more smitten than he had ever believed possible.

He, Corbin Jacob Masterson, a man whose name in the army had been Sober Sides, had fallen for a woman who had never seen a rule she didn't want to shatter or a person she didn't want to render speechless. A female who was fond of saying—not only to Corbin's face, but also in the middle of balls and dinners—that there was only one use for men, and most of them were not even good for that.

A woman who hated the concept of marriage and all it stood for.

A woman who hated Corbin and all he stood for.

The only thing Io liked about him was this—these illicit, rushed couplings filled with deviant activities like spankings. These once-weekly meetings that only lasted a few brief hours and never happened often enough.

And which always left him starving in body and soul for more.

Corbin truly was every bit as stupid as she was always accusing him of being.

"What are you doing back there, Masterson? Composing a sermon?" she demanded, twisting around to look at him.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back hard. "Stay put and don't speak unless I tell you or I will gag you, my lady."

As always, her magnificent body went pliant at his cruel treatment.

And then she whispered, "Please…sir," and all but unmanned him.

Corbin snarled like the animal she made him and rammed himself deeply into the wet hot heaven of her body.

"Yes!" She arched her elegant spine and raised her hips to take him even deeper.

"My God," Corbin muttered, thankfully under his breath, trying not to think of where all this would end.

Because end it would.

And he feared the end would come sooner, rather than later.

Beneath him, Io squirmed. "Faster and harder, Masterson!"

Corbin gave her buttock a stinging slap. "Quiet!" he growled, giving her other cheek an even harder swat. "I'll be damned if I take orders from likes of you, Lady Io Hale," he said, even as he did as she bade him and sped his thrusts, pumping into her with brutal snaps of his hips.

You will be damned, Corbin Masterson, a grim mental voice agreed Not only your immortal soul but also any chance you might have for future happiness in this life, as well.

The words rang out so loudly in his head that his thrusting stuttered and he was momentarily thrown off his stride.

Yes, he shot back, his hips quickly regaining their rhythm, I will be damned. And I do not care about that, either.

The truth was that Corbin had no intention of calling a halt to these weekly Wednesday trysts. Trysts which he now lived for.

He would keep coming to this room—to this woman—for as long as she would meet him.

Because afterward—when she eventually decided that she was finished with him and moved on—Corbin would have the rest of his life to pick up the pieces of his heart and try to forget about Lady Io Hale.