Miss Lydia's Guardian (Historical Erotic Romance)
Miss Lydia is back from finishing school, but her new guardian, the Colonel Cooper, has definite plans to continue her education. She's used to doing as she's told, but can she really learn to submit to his discipline – and run the risk of ruining her name? Adults only – these 13,000 words contain deflowering, spanking, discipline, bdsm, and naughty Victorians! More
-- Excerpt --
She was lingering on the first floor, by the library, when there was shouting and hooting from downstairs and she realised the huntsmen were home. Soon they were clattering up to their rooms. She pretended to be engrossed in the contents of a display cabinet, with one ear tuned to the footsteps along the way.
"Teeth? What manner of beast was that? And I did not have you pegged as an amateur naturalist, Miss Lydia."
She turned with a smile. Up close, Timmy was tall and strong, with unlined skin and well groomed facial hair. He grinned and thrust out his hand. "Timothy Neville. Timmy, you know. Pleased to meet you."
His hand was broad and warm, and she hung on to it for a fraction too long. She was sure his eyebrows whisked up in approval, and her heart danced. "Pleased to meet you. I believe the teeth are from a lion."
"Gosh." Timmy stood beside her, gazing in at the row of yellowing fangs. "How curious."
"Every creature has teeth according to what they eat," Lydia mused. "Pointed for flesh. Flat for vegetables and the like. Wonderful."
"Not every mouth has teeth," Timmy said. "And there are teeth...without mouths."
"What do you mean?"
Timmy turned away from the case and leaned over her. She did not back away. She inhaled his smell; the sweat of hunting, leather, pipe tobacco, and wet wool. He had pale blue eyes – the colour of her dress, she realised. Had Mamma planned that? Though she felt a flicker of irritation that her Mamma was meddling, she could hardly fault her taste.
Timmy watched her closely, and said quietly, "I have heard tell of teeth... where no teeth should be. Vagina dentata, they are called."
Lydia frowned. Something sounded wrong, and she wasn't sure what he was talking about. "Teeth where no teeth should be? What would be the point in that?"
"You are very beautiful. And just come from school, I think?"
She wanted to steer him back to the teeth, but didn't want to seem rude. "Thank you. Yes, I have."
"And now in the world."
"Yes. Will you be dancing tonight, Mr Neville?"
"Only with women who agree to call me Timmy. I shall see you there." He stepped back, smiling. "So call me Timmy." And he left her ablaze with feelings.