With an heir assured, her usefulness expired and her desire and love were left to wither. She felt a twinge of excitement as his eyes roamed across he... form mixed with the tin taste of fear, she would be unable to resist this man should he desire more than to look upon her and take her possessions. The highwayman was caught off guard by her, he had lapsed into thoughts of lust like some young lovelorn pup, the kind that thought of desire for flesh before desire for money, the kind that got. Then her fingers moved to the buttons, opening them slowly, one at a time, until she could peel his shirt off. God, his skin was just like a baby's like new and untouched satin! So different from the rough, hairy skin of her husband... Her other hand slowly eased around to the front of his pants and softly caressed the swollen outline of his straining young penis, and she felt the boy tremble and gasp while he sucked harder at her breast. A searing flame of desire raced hotly through her belly. ‘Peter?’ ‘Withers. Peter Withers, our blacksmith.’ ‘Oh.’ Her father looked away, striding over to the window. ‘That was necessary.’ ‘Necessary? Necessary to whom?’ Cassia moved next to her father, taking a deep breath to hold her anger in check. ‘Father, I’m eighteen years old. I have a right to make decision concerning my life.’ ‘And giving the most precious gift you have to a blacksmith is making a decision?’ Arthur looked over at her. ‘What about marriage?’ ‘I told Mother long ago that I. And then my bedroom door swung inward, revealing my mother, wearing nothing but a black size-too-small bikini, standing in the doorway in that super villainess stance of hers that drove me absolutely wild. In her right hand was a bottle of baby oil ... I could only guess what the hell she was planning to do with that. "M-Ma—" I started. "Hush," she said, just loud enough for me to hear. "Your father's sleeping, and I don't want to wake him." My eyes widened some. Was.