His fingertips traced her breast, circling her nipple until it hardened into a rosy point. Lips replaced fingertips, gently sucking.

Estelle groaned with pleasure. "James, my God. Your mouth is magic. Where did you learn to do that?"

Colonel James Goodwin raised his head until his mouth hovered over her pearly globe. "Honey, didn't you know all us Bluecoats hone our skills on the battlefield?"

Her tinkling laughter joined his husky chuckle. "Somehow, I don't think the Peninsula Campaign had anything to do with it. McClellan might be famous for getting you boys ready for war... but this is above and beyond the call of duty."

He whispered over her breast, "Perhaps we should include it in the army training manual."

His mouth drifted down her stomach, pausing over her navel. A quick tongue lashing in that delicate spot sent Estelle writhing under him. Her nails raked his shoulders, and then his thick, prematurely gray hair as James' tongue trailed to her pubic mound. His teeth playfully pulled the hair before he continued his descent to her inner thighs.

As his tongue stroked her slit, Estelle sank into waves of pleasure undulating from her core. Tension built, and just as she was about to climax, James moved away from her tender spot and began a slow journey down her inner thighs. His tongue skimmed her skin, barely making contact. So subtle the touch, so exciting. Estelle couldn't hold still as James' tongue roamed to the inside of her knee and paused at the firm muscles of her calf.

When he reached one foot and lashed her arch, she cooed in delight, her eyes closed so she could concentrate on the sensations battering her. Every nerve ending flamed with desire. Estelle had never felt so alive. And so frustrated.

Suddenly, his tongue disappeared. She groaned in disappointment and was about to open her eyes when his manhood rammed into her with the force of a cannon.

To the very core of her stomach, he filled her. Estelle's shattering orgasm crashed through her body. Then, he disappeared again.

This time, she did open her eyes to see him poised at her vagina, grinning from ear to ear, his erection bobbing an inch away from her drenched opening.

"We soldiers also learn discipline..." James' hoarse whisper disappeared in his panting breath.

"They teach you about torture, too? Because if your enlisted man is just going to salute me the rest of the night, I'll go out of my mind. I have plans to capture him and hold him a long time."

He threw back his head, his hearty laugh filling the velvet-draped room, his cock vibrating in time to his laughter. "Honey, solitary confinement in your prison sounds like heaven on earth."

Still, he didn't move.

Just as irritation crept through her, he looked down at her with an evil leer and said sweetly, "Patience is a virtue." He slammed into her with greater force than she'd ever experienced.

Estelle knew she'd split in two, certain she'd love every minute of it.

When they'd dissolved into sweat and spent passion, and dropped into each others' arms, she proclaimed him the best lover in the whole damned army -- Union or Confederate.

"So, Colonel Goodwin, you never told me what brought you to my door this fine June night. Perhaps General Fry sent you to investigate my brothel?" Smiling, she nuzzled his chest, savoring his male scent of soap, tobacco and sweat, then leaned back to lie on her side in the carved rosewood bed. She faced James, her head propped on a hand supported by her crooked elbow, loving the sight of his powerful, muscular body lounging between her beige silk sheets.

Estelle and James had been lovers for more than a year. And best friends. The fact that the love of her life happened to work for the Provost Marshall General of Washington, D.C. while she was madam of prostitutes, served as an ironic touch both appreciated and neither allowed to cramp their style.

James smiled, flicking one of her nipples with a finger. "Can't a man desire the pleasure of a beautiful woman's company without explanation? As for an investigation, this is my personal endeavor and I don't ever want to finish it." He sobered. "Blast my bad luck to be assigned to General Fry."

She captured the hand that nestled her breast and raised it to her lips. "How could you have fallen in love with the madam of a seedy bawdy house, anyway?" Her mouth caressed the top of his hand.

" 'Seedy bawdy house?' " He chuckled.

Maison d'Estelle had earned the reputation as the most elegant brothel in Washington, D.C. Union officers saved their meager salary for weeks to afford one night of pleasure behind its luxurious doors. Both its girls and clients were hand-picked. Antique furnishings, hand-woven silk tapestries and bed linens, and imported oil paintings worthy of the finest galleries exuded wealth and refinement. Only the best for Estelle.

James continued, "It's safe to assume your establishment will never be investigated by Fry."

"Considering half his staff are customers, I'd say so."

Goodwin stretched and sat up. "Speaking of Fry, I need to head back to the office."

"At this hour?" Estelle glanced at the china clock on the black marble mantel. "Why return this evening?"

"Special report's due the first of July...that's tomorrow morning." He shrugged into his uniform, yawning. "Your girls all booked for tonight?"

"Actually not. It's a light evening for everyone. Especially Lacie. I've given all her clients to Emmaline and Selia." Estelle frowned. "I'm worried about her, James. You know I allow them their brandy and such, but Lacie's drinking is out of control. She got up for work this afternoon and almost killed herself on the stairs. So drunk, she could barely stand."

"I thought that new boyfriend helped her."

Estelle sighed. "Bill Masters? For a time, he seemed to. But recently, she's returned to the bottle. And it seems to be worse than ever."

"May have to get rid of her. Plenty of other houses would love to have one of yours...drunk or no." He paused by the bedroom door and turned back to her. Standing at attention, he barked in mock military style, "As you were, ma'am. Till tomorrow night." With a rakish salute and a broad smile, he swept out of Estelle's private suite.

Giggling, Estelle pulled on a silk robe and crossed the thick Persian rug to her rosewood dressing table. She passed a brush through her tangled raven curls, staring into the gilt-framed mirror, luxuriating in the afterglow of another delightful time with James Goodwin.

From the first moment Estelle had laid eyes on him, she'd known this man would play an important role in her life.

Copyright © 2003 by Delphyne DeRouge