Sawyer Quinn, $3.99, ISBN 979-8201677053
Historical Erotica, 2022
Before I begin, I should point out that Sawyer Quinn’s Masked Innocence is basically the first few chapters of a longer story… had that longer story been written, and I believe it had never been.
This is by design, as the author wants to write a story that focuses on the heroine’s thoughts, feelings, and sensations during her first time, and everything else is more of an afterthought.
Oh boy, and the author manages to do a good job in making that first time a wholesomely filthy thing to read.
Lady Katherine Mandeville wants the rake Sebastian, the Marquess of Claireborne. Okay, he’s not that hard to get, as it looks like he can be, you know, got as long as one has a working hoo-hoo down there and is willing to let him have a go at it.
Still, a not-so-bashful lady of Polite Society has to be more discreet, so she decides to do that masked lady in a ball thing and oh boy, is he happy to see her indeed!
The story ends right after the penultimate high and Sebastian realizing that he has debauched a proper lady, so he’s now obligated to find out who she is and, I presume, conduct the usual song and dance in stories like this sort. It’s okay, I’ve read that story many times already and I don’t need another one.
In a way, I’m glad that the author ends the story the way it does, as while it’s definitely just a small part of much larger story, I can’t help feeling that it is actually pretty complete as it is. I’ve had what I came here for, and I’m perfectly happy to leave without caring for the rest of what may happen to these two.
Yes, I definitely had what I came here for. I wonder if the author is a pseudonym for one of those authors of erotic historical romps that I’ve read in the past, because this story weaves an exquisite vicarious erotic escapade through the elegant use of evocative, descriptive phrases that never feel too purple.
There is a notable choreography in the scenes, with build up slowly moving to a rousing crescendo of, er, a glorious purpose.
Slowly, so temptingly, she traced her fingers lightly down her thighs. Over the sweet arches of her knees. Caressed her calves. All in a torturous display of obedience, and he felt her flesh as surely as it’d been his own fingers trailing that path.
He bound her wrists to her ankles, exposing all of her, allowing him unhindered access to her most delectable parts. Like a beacon in a storm, that most sacred place between her legs beckoned him, arousal glistening in the dim light and inviting him to have a taste.
“Wet and wanting.” He flicked his eyes up to hers, a half smile crossing his lips as he forced the last of his restraint. “Absolute perfection.”
Seriously, the naughty scenes are hot. It’s like the orgasm is the jumping of the shark, so it’s good that the story ends soon after, as nothing else will likely come close to the glory of the glory most on high that is this romp.
I don’t smoke, but I think I now need a cigarette bad.
