Page 16 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
D amn Scarlett Clarke and his ridiculous attraction to her. Clink .
Damn Ethan and his nosy arse. Clink .
And damn his mother for thinking that a ball was just the thing the estate needed to “breathe new life” into it and “banish old ghosts.”
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Hudson owed his mother a great deal, but he could not give her what she wanted. Not when it would mean the suffering of another poor soul, dragged into the Wolverton curse.
He sighed, his grasp on his chisel and mallet tensing into fists. He had promised himself that he would never lose control again. All of that had been swept away the moment Lady Southford burst through his door with her duplicitous daughter in tow.
But even though he had been the target of her perfidy, he could not help the twinge of pride at the boldness it took to lie to everyone about him .
And that kiss.
He growled as his cock hardened at the mere memory of it. The glorious feeling of her softness pressed against him. The insistent, almost impatient, little mewls that sent lust roaring through his veins.
That kiss should have set off alarm bells in his head. Instead, all he could think of was dragging her under him and making her moan.
Hudson would like to hear his name on her lips this time.
“Damn it,” he muttered hoarsely. She was going to be the death of him.
Or he was going to be her ruination.
Or it could be both.
But bloody hell, he could not think of a better way to go, and that was how he knew that he was truly done for.
“Ow! Of all the?—”
His head snapped up when he heard the string of softly muttered curses that followed, right before a figure stumbled in. A cloud of red atop billowing white and the unmistakable, heady concoction of soft floral and warm woman.
Oh, hell no.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he roared.
Scarlett frowned at him. “Well, good evening to you, too, Your Grace.”
Good evening? Had she lost her mind?
He fixed her with his fiercest glare. “I thought I told you to stay away from this tower.”
The maddening creature merely jutted her chin in defiance. “And I thought we have already established the fact that I do not take well to orders.”
He was going to firmly establish her away from him. Preferably away from Wolverton Estate. With double locks.
“You are not supposed to be here,” he gritted out.
But that sailed right over her head as she peered over at the hunk of marble. “You have not made much progress, for all that you spend countless hours working at it.” She tilted her head and cast him a doubtful glance over her shoulder. “You must be quite the perfectionist, chipping at it in minute increments. Tell me, Your Grace, how long would it truly take you to complete a sculpture?”
“Far sooner if you did not keep disturbing my peace,” he retorted.
The censorious look she gave him told him she did not believe one word. Not that it mattered—she needed to get out of his tower, and she needed to do it about five minutes ago.
“We need to talk,” she told him simply.
“No, we do not,” he snapped.
What she needed to do was go back to her bedchamber and lock the door. Maybe even barricade it with a table, a chair…
His cock stiffened eagerly, and he nearly groaned.
Her, alone with him, in his tower, was a disaster of mass proportions. The kind that left ruin in its wake.
“Of course we do,” she persisted, crossing her arms over her chest. “About that kiss?—”
Hell no. They were not going to talk about the kiss that just rearranged his brain and its priorities. Not while they were within walking distance of each other.
“I just want you to promise that you will forget about it,” she babbled on. “Neither of us need to mention it again. I cannot have you humiliating me like I am some naive debutante in her first Season?—”
“Scarlett.” Her name came out of his throat in a low, guttural growl.
She stopped in the middle of her rambling. He heard her sharp intake of breath. Saw her eyes darken unmistakably with desire, her lips patting on a soft gasp.
“Come here.”
It was a soft command.
But he was stepping closer to her, and she was swaying towards him. They were like two magnets that could not help colliding.
His hand slipped around the back of her neck, and he leaned in, breathing in her distinct, womanly scent. That fragrance was stamped in his brain. He wanted to know the taste of her as well.
“I told you that you were not supposed to be here,” he said in a husky voice. His finger trailed down her shoulder, dragging the flimsy sleeve of her robe down with it. “Such a naughty, little cat you are.”
He caught the slight whimper that escaped her lips and smiled to himself.
“Oh, is that so? And what are you going to do about it?”
The woman defied him at every turn, and he actually liked it. She would make him work for whatever he wished to get from her, and damn , he found himself enjoying it immensely.
“Tsk, tsk, little cat,” he taunted. “Keep doing that, and you will find yourself getting punished.”
The little shudder that went through her only heightened his awareness until his entire world narrowed to her and only her.
He backed her up against the wall, bracing his arm above her head as he towered over her. She was smaller than him, but her courage made her twice her size. She glared up at him, and he felt heat skittering down his spine.
Funny. He had never felt that before.
“And that is yet another thing we have to talk about,” she bristled. “You are the most contradictory being in all of London. You want me, and then you despise me. You kiss me, and then you push me away. Make up your mind. ”
He frowned at her. “You would not want me, little cat. I am the bloody Duke of Wolves, remember? I do not care for marriage.”
She flinched, but she needed to know the truth. Needed to understand that whatever this thing between them, whatever fantasies she had of him, they were never going to amount to much.
He was only going to disappoint her, and he needed her to know that. They were standing on the precipice of something wild and dangerous, and he would not have her falling into the abyss with him unless she was sure of it.
“So you have been reminding me ever since I came here,” she replied with a slight shrug. “It actually gets boring when you keep repeating it as if I am some lackwit.”
“You are no lackwit,” he groaned. “And the past few days, I have unfortunately found my taste in women to have become rather specific.”
Her reply came out more like a breathy gasp that stirred him all the more.
“How specific, Your Grace?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You really don’t know?”
“Tell me how specific.”
“Like this , Lady Scarlett.”
Scarlett was not even spared a moment to take a breath before his lips crashed against hers.
Perhaps she had pushed him too far. Goaded him beyond imagining.
Now, she was going to find out what it meant to tease the Duke of Wolves… and she could not be any more pleased with herself.
She wanted this. Wanted him .
Wanted his lips on hers, his tongue plundering all her secrets. She wanted his hands all over her body, in places that begged for his touch.
She felt the familiar coil of desire low in her belly. The low, throbbing ache between her legs as she threw her hands around his neck, clinging to him for balance. Opening herself up in unequivocal surrender.
Unlike in the orangery, where his kiss was fierce and sudden, his lips now slid over hers in a slow yet thorough exploration. As his tongue swept into her mouth, her knees buckled, and she clutched at him for support. His response was a sound that was part laughter, part groan, and pure seduction.
She felt his thumb make a brief pass over the stiff peak of her breast, and she gasped. “Your Grace!”
He chuckled throatily, his lips trailing down her jaw to her ear. “Hudson,” he purred. “I told you before, I will have you calling my name when you beg me for release.”
Saints above, he truly meant to make her beg!
His finger stroked the taut peak, drawing exasperating circles around it through the thin fabric of her night rail. Scarlett could not help the moan that slipped past her lips.
“Say it,” he taunted her. “Say my name, little cat.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. He truly was the devil incarnate, playing with her like this.
“You do not even use my name. Well, except that one time,” she pointed out, gritting her teeth through the slow torture of his fingers on her breast.
“Say my name,” he growled. “Or I will stop.”
“No!” Her eyes fluttered open in horror. “Please… Hudson.”
He smiled. “That is much better,” he whispered silkily.
Right before his mouth clamped on her breast.
Wet heat enveloped her nipple as she arched into him with a soft scream, her fingers spearing into his hair.
“Oh, the things I will do to you,” he murmured. “As long as you follow my orders.”
Scarlett gasped. “Anything. I will do anything you ask.”
“Good.” His mouth released her breast, and she let out a mewl of protest. “Turn around,” he ordered. “And put your hands on the table.”
She nodded and did as he asked, her legs unsteady.
“Good girl.”
His praise sent sparks down her spine and straight to her core. She felt his fingers trace that path lightly, lingering over the curve of her bottom, before he cupped her most intimately.
“Do you like this, little cat?” he whispered in her ear. “Do you want my fingers inside you, pleasuring you?”
Scarlett closed her eyes and nodded.
“What was that?” he taunted. “I’m afraid I did not hear what you said.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Hudson.”
“Much better.”
He was practically purring, the vibrations in his chest sending her closer to the edge. She felt her night rail trailing over her calves, the back of her thighs.
The first touch of his fingers on her aching flesh had her fingers digging into the dust-covered wood until she feared she would leave marks.
“Hudson!”
His finger slid unerringly through her folds, sweeping through the slick heat in bold strokes. When he circled that bundle of pleasure, she let out a loud moan. Oh, she tried to stifle it, but it was nigh on impossible.
Heat flooded her cheeks, as well as everywhere else. What if someone heard her? What if?—
“Do not worry, little cat,” he reassured her, even as he continued to slowly stroke her to madness. “Nobody but you would ever come up here. You can scream all you want.”
Wicked, wicked, wicked . The man was absolutely wicked, and he fully intended for her to come undone! The realization both thrilled and worried her.
But his other hand had begun toying with her breast, slipping beneath the neckline of her shift and gently rolling the taut peak between his fingers.
All traces of logical thought fled her mind then. She had become a creature of heat and want. Of heady desire and intense, sensual pleasure.
It was as if her very existence hinged on his hands, and if he stopped—oh heavens. If he did that, then she might very well die .
“You are so very wet,” he growled in her ear. “You like this, don’t you, little cat? Look at you, opening your legs for me.”
She felt the tip of his finger probing her entrance, and her eyes flew open. He could not be thinking of?—
“Hudson… oh! ”
The shriek erupted from her throat as he slid his finger inside her, and she was introduced to a level of pleasure she had not even thought possible.
“So tight and wet,” he murmured. “And so hot. You would feel so good around my cock, little cat.”
“Hudson, please.” She was beyond begging now. She would plead with him if he needed her to.
“Does it feel good, little cat?”
“Yes! Oh God, yes !”
His fingers began to slip into an easy rhythm, slowly pushing her to the brink before drawing back. And then goading her once more.
It was heavenly. It was maddening.
“I thought of you so many times, bent over like this.” A second finger slid inside her, and she sobbed, sagging on the wooden surface. “Hands on the table, little cat.”
She braced herself as he continued to stroke her, his fingers sliding in and out of her. Her knees wobbled as pleasure coiled tight in her belly. Scarlett felt as if she was a string wound up too tight.
“You have been such a good girl, Scarlett,” he crooned. “And good girls get rewarded for their exemplary behavior.”
His words shot straight to her core, and the string within her snapped, pushing her over the brink. Sending her hurtling into white-hot pleasure. Shuddering in her explosive release.
Still, Hudson did not stop. Not until she completely sagged on the table, shaking from the ecstasy that wracked her frame.
She felt a strong arm slide under her, drawing her to a warm, solid chest. She was panting, her legs incapable of holding her up.
“Good girl, Scarlett.”
She sighed as she leaned into his warmth. His strength.
Little tremors continued to course through her as he whispered soothing words in her ear. He smoothed her hair from her sweat-slicked forehead and pressed a soft, almost tender kiss to her temple.
And she let him.
Because more than the immense pleasure he had just gifted her, she wanted this .
She wanted him .