Maggie Robinson

Agony/Ecstasy

Agony Ecstasy
Berkley Trade ♦ December 6, 2011
ISBN-13: 9780425243459 ♦ ISBN-10: 0425243451

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All new stories of punishing extremes and unbearable pleasure…

With historical, contemporary, and futuristic backdrops, this outrageously diverse collection of original stories explores every conceivable variation of BDSM erotica—from knitting circles to the Titanic to a retelling of The Little Mermaid.

Featuring all-new stories by Meljean Brook, Jean Johnson, Bettie Sharpe, Jill Myles, Margaret Rowe, Sara Thorne, and more, this book has everything a reader could hope for in an erotic romance.

To see to the anthology’s very own website for chapter excerpts, go here.

“Wicked Wedding Night” by Margaret Rowe

His new wife gazed up at him with barely-contained terror. That would make the next hour so much easier, he supposed. A modicum of suffering on her part would prolong his pleasure. He wasn’t proud of the fact, but there it was. Since his time in a French prison as a guest of the Emperor Napoleon, Viscount Lucien Ransford had had a problem pretending to be a bland, bloodless aristocrat. He’d had the decency beaten right out of him. Repeatedly.
His limits to vice? He had none now that he could recall.

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Hallam Abbey, Kent 1815

Chapter One

“Why?”

His new wife gazed up at him with barely-contained terror. That would make the next hour so much easier, he supposed. A modicum of suffering on her part would prolong his pleasure. He wasn’t proud of the fact, but there it was. Since his time in a French prison as a guest of the Emperor Napoleon, Viscount Lucien Ransford had had a problem pretending to be a bland, bloodless aristocrat. He’d had the decency beaten right out of him. Repeatedly.

His limits to vice? He had none now that he could recall.

“Why not?” Someone should have warned her before she so foolishly trapped him into marriage. “Did you not just hours ago promise to obey me?”

“But this is—you are—” She paused, her sea-blue eyes awash in virginal tears. At least he assumed she was a virgin—her trap had been too clumsily set to hope she had any skill in the bedroom. She tried to shake a plump ankle, but his skill held her quite fast. “I don’t believe this is normal.”

Lucien gave a hollow laugh. “There is nothing about us that is normal, Maida.” He tightened the silken cord at her throat, draping the ends between her breasts. The thought of leading her around on all fours made him stir. “We’ve known each other three days, the last two of which have been spent preparing for the benighted wedding. It took you precisely one day to wander into my bedroom uninvited and crawl into my bed. Sleepwalking, you said. When you woke up, your screams were quite affecting. And effective. The entire house party was witness to your so-called mistake.”

“It was a mistake!” she cried, struggling again at the bonds that tied her to the bedstead. “I’ve walked in my sleep since I was a child.”

“Then someone should have tied you to your bed long before this.” He stepped back to admire his handiwork. His bride was sheet-white where she was untouched by dark curls and shadow, an entrancing chiaroscuro. She might be a stranger, but she was an attractive one. Once he broke her to him, she would do.

For a time.

Lucien couldn’t think too far ahead. His captors had robbed him of that, too.

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