Page 23 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

T his was what she wanted from him—this raw, unfettered passion that would burn through anything , leaving a trail of ashes in its wake. She would be ruined, but she did not care.

All that mattered was his lips sliding over hers, his tongue coaxing hers in a fiery dance that had her nails digging into his broad shoulders. His hand swept over her breast, dragging slowly along her nipple and drawing it into a tight, aching bud.

On another day, she might revel in all the ways her body responded to his touch, but not now. Not when her logic melted into liquid, molten desire low in her belly. Not when her skin cried out for his touch.

Definitely not when she was arching into him, her body bent in supplication and triumph at the same time.

“Do you want this, little cat?” he whispered in her ear, his lips caressing the sensitive shell as she trembled in his arms. “I know you do. Hell, you must be wet right now…”

Scarlett mewled as his filthy words only intensified the carnal haze she found herself in. His soft laughter, low and deep, shot straight to the ache between her legs.

“You must know that I require your explicit obedience in this,” he continued as his fingers deftly plucked at the row of tiny buttons that ran down the column of her spine.

My, but there were certainly benefits to engaging in an illicit relationship with a libertine of his caliber—the man certainly knew how to dispatch clothing with an ease that left her in shock and awe.

Never mind that he had experience with other women, she thought hazily as his finger started tugging at the neckline of her dress. In the end, I seem to benefit from it all the same.

Not that she liked the idea of Hudson with another woman. In fact, she downright loathed it. But it was very, very difficult to feel piqued about a history that did not include her when his finger had started tracing circles around her nipple.

Scarlett gasped. “Hudson…”

She saw a slow smile flash in the darkness. “So, we are back to calling each other by our names. Good girl.”

The softly worded praise had her careening in a haze of desire. How could two words have such an effect on her?

“Now, turn around,” he instructed her.

Scarlett hesitated. In the tower, he had her holding onto the worktable, but now they were in the middle of the garden. In a gazebo. Anyone could casually walk in on them with her hair undone and her breast hanging out of her gown.

However, instead of fear and apprehension, she felt a thrill. A strange delight that only served to heighten her arousal.

Was this item number seven on her list? She could not quite remember… only that she had once thought it impossible that a gentleman would want to do the sort of things she wanted to try.

But then again, Hudson was no gentleman. He was a rake. A libertine. A Wolf .

And she was the meal he wanted.

Scarlett turned around and braced her arms on the carved marble column, feeling the leaves brush against the back of her hand as her fingers found purchase on the cold stone.

“So compliant,” he purred, his lips brushing against a bare shoulder. The contrast of the chilly evening air and the warmth of his breath had her shuddering. “Such a good little cat—only for me .”

Yes . Oh yes…

His hand slid beneath the neckline of her gown to squeeze her breast, drawing an impatient moan from her. Instead of chiding her for it, however, he simply laughed as if her body’s wanton response to his touch delighted him so very much.

“Your breast is mine,” he told her, his fingers tweaking her nipple until she gasped. “This one, too.” His lips settled onto the junction between her neck and shoulder and sucked at the sensitive skin there. “And let us not forget this…”

She felt her skirts being dragged up over her ankles, past her stockinged calves… to her bare thighs. His hands teased the curls at the junction of her thighs as his other hand continued to knead her breast.

Oh, he could be such a beast , holding her in suspense just so, when he knew what she wanted. What her body craved.

“Hudson…” she whimpered. “Hudson, please…”

“Please?” He chuckled. “Now, that is a word I would like to hear from you more often, little cat. That and harder . Faster. More .”

Right now, she would settle for anything .

She sighed in delight as his finger slipped through the curls and between her slick folds, finding the pearl of her desire unerringly. He circled it with aching slowness, and Scarlett feared that she was going to leave holes in the column from how hard her fingers were digging into the marble.

“More…” she moaned. “Please… more… ”

But she should have known better than to relinquish all control of her pleasure. He would never make things easier for her—not after she went against him tonight.

“You are so wet, little cat,” he groaned in her ear. “How can you be this wet and still manage to stand?”

Scarlett did not know how she managed it herself. If the column before her disappeared, she would never be able to hold herself up.

“Damn, I love how you respond so easily,” he told her. “Such passion…” He laughed harshly. “A gift.”

Was it, really? Or was it a curse to want him so much that she ached from just looking at him in the ballroom?

If anyone knew of the things that ran through her head when she had seen him dressed in all his finery and imagined what lay beneath his luxurious garb… oh, they would have apoplexy!

“Tell me,” he crooned. “Is this part of that list of yours? A tryst in the garden, my hand between your legs in the open air?”

She cried out as his finger slid down her wet center, setting her nerve endings on fire.

“Yes!” she gasped. “Oh yes!”

“My, my, my… such filthy thoughts for a young lady.” His words were of admonishment, but he seemed greatly pleased by her confession. “Very well then… let us tick off one more item on that list of yours.”

Scarlett barely heard him. What little she did hear barely filtered through the fog in her brain, for his finger had slid deep inside her.

“Hudson!” she moaned. “Oh my… oh! ”

His thumb pressed against her clitoris as that sly digit began to slide in and out of her tight channel.

Whatever scrap of coherent thought fled from her mind. Logic demanded that she flee. Her body demanded that she stay.

She heard a masculine groan from behind her and felt something hard and hot pressing against her tailbone. Her eyes widened briefly when she realized just what it was. How massive it felt pressed against her.

How tightly he must have controlled himself despite his raging desire.

If only he would let go of that infernal restraint of his for just a while…

But then his finger curled inside her, and something within her snapped.

Oh, she was glorious. The most magnificent creature he had ever beheld in all his pathetic existence.

And when she came so spectacularly, her moans echoing in the gazebo as her walls clenched his finger tightly… it took all of his self-control not to plunge deep inside her. At that moment, there was nothing he would want to do more.

It went beyond mere temptation—it almost felt vital to his soul.

If he had one, that is.

He held her as she quaked and trembled in his arms, her breath coming out in pants and gasps as he allowed her to ride out her release. He had never been inclined to call a woman beautiful, but Lady Scarlett Clarke in the throes of passion was quite easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—and he had seen so many in his lifetime.

“Hudson, that was…”

He brushed away a stray curl and pressed a soft kiss to her sweat-slicked forehead. “I know, little cat. We need not speak of it.”

She furrowed her brow in what he now recognized as the start of resistance, and he nearly laughed. Of course, she would put up a token protest at least. She would not be the woman he so admired if she did not.

He stiffened. Admired?

The word very rarely applied to anyone. To think of her in those terms was not only foolish, but it was also dangerous .

To want only one woman might be a passing phase. To admire her beyond the carnal act was a different thing entirely.

It was the end of his libertine era. The doom of his roguish ways. Not that he cared much about his reputation in the first place, but he did care about hers .

He would not have her besmirched by his desires, even if she responded to them so passionately.

“Hudson, I think you?—”

He silenced her with a kiss, one that he made sure felt as patronizing as possible. Scarlett was not going to like it. She might even loathe him for it, but it was much, much better to deal with her anger than her… affection ?

He felt himself go cold just thinking about it.

She could not want him. Must not want him.

Or he would destroy her, whether he wanted to or not.

“There,” he said with a cold smile. “You will do well to remember whose name you just moaned right now when we head back inside.”

If she had reacted with rage, he would have understood. If she had slapped him, he might have even felt relieved for it.

But she simply gasped. In shock.

And she was not the only one to do so.