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Page 33 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

H e tried to be good. He tried to protect her. Damn, but he was done trying now. With her so close, her saying that she wanted him…

He wanted her all to himself, and he was cruel enough to claim her. It was like tasting the first drop of ambrosia after walking in the desert. Like stumbling upon a banquet amid a famine.

There was no finesse in his movements, no coy seduction. Only an endless, aching need that was finally fulfilled as his lips slanted over hers. He shouldn’t have her, but he’d take her anyway. She was going to be his undoing.

He groaned as her arms came around him, her lips answering his call.

Too late , his mind warned him. She had already undone him, just as the first few strains of the opera resounded in the theater. She had unraveled his control and sent him spiraling into lust.

He hiked her skirts up to her waist, his fingers plunging into her folds, groaning when he was met with the slick evidence of her desire. How could a woman be so responsive?

“The o-opera,” she moaned, just as Josephine’s singing barely registered in his fogged consciousness.

Like I care about that.

Hudson circled the bundle of nerves, and Scarlett cried out, her body arching into him, her head thrown back in careless abandon.

“The only thing I am interested in hearing is you moaning my name, little cat.” He pressed against her and was rewarded with another moan.

Indeed, what need did he have for operas when he had the sweetest music playing in his ear?

He watched her eyes flutter open, the blatant desire in them answering the call in his own. “B-But I thought that…” she trailed off as he continued to stroke her languidly. “Miss J-Josephine…”

She honestly thought he came here to watch his previous paramour sing? Hudson nearly laughed. Instead, he nibbled on her earlobe.

“I have not been with Josephine for more than a month now, my sweet,” he told her. He paused to coax another sweet gasp from her. “Not since you showed up on my doorstep and accused me of kissing you.”

Her breathy laughter played along his nerves. How could she so easily tie him up in knots?

“Well, you did end up kissing me,” she murmured.

He eyed her hungrily. “Oh, I plan to do more than that, little cat.”

“Oh, yes please,” she moaned. “Do all of them.”

Hudson needed no further prompting. He backed her to one of the chairs until she fell with a slight squeal.

“Shh!” he admonished her, pressing a finger to her kiss-swollen lips. “You would not want the whole theater to hear your husband pleasuring you.”

“Husband,” she sighed, undiluted need threading through her voice. Her eyes were half-lidded as her tongue darted out to swipe over her bottom lip. “I like the sound of that.”

The banked embers of his desire, tempered by numerous cold baths and hours in his tower, exploded into a conflagration at her words. He pulled down her stockings, trailing kisses up her calf to the inside of her thigh as he pushed her legs wide open.

The red-gold curls that covered her sex glistened with her essence, her womanhood flush and slick with arousal. He ran a finger down her slit, and she shuddered with a slight gasp.

“Hudson, what are you— oh! ”

He delighted in the surprised squeal that came out. “Tell me, Duchess, is this part of your list?”

Her teeth captured her bottom lip, her knuckles white on the carved armrests as she teetered on the precipice.

“Part of what list?”

The impatience in her voice made him chuckle. “That little list of yours,” he insisted. “The one you wanted to complete before you married.”

“Oh. That .”

“Yes, little cat. That list.” He smirked as he slowly ran his thumb up and down her folds, lingering on the glistening pearl that had begun to peek out of its blushing hood. “Did you fantasize about having your lover spreading your legs like this, pleasuring you with the entire ton within earshot?”

The garbled moan that he drew out of her was a divine melody far better than any opera. Her fragrance permeated the warm air between them, calling to him. The sight of her writhing on the chair, her legs wide open, was the single most erotic thing he had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

With a growl, he fastened his lips on her core. Her nectar coated his tongue as he lashed it against the taut bud.

“Hudson!” Shock and sheer delight infused her voice. “Oh my…”

“Oh yes .” He smirked against her heated flesh. “In the next few minutes, all I want to hear from you is my name and the words yes, please, and more. A combination of all four will suit me fine as well.”

“I thought…” she panted. “I thought I was to stay quiet…”

He chuckled. “Very well. If you insist on defying me, then I will just have to punish you.”

It was a threat that he knew she would take extremely well.

As the music swelled in the theater, he applied himself to a different instrument. With his hands and his fingers, he coaxed out a melody far more suited to his pleasure than anyone else’s.

“Hudson, please… ” she whined as his finger slid inside her tight sheath.

She felt so good—hot and tight and wet and perfect as she clamped around his digit. He pushed deeper, his tongue flicking against her clitoris, and her fingers speared into his hair, digging into his scalp.

All around him, the music swelled, drowning out the moans he coaxed out of her. He would never tire of doing this to her.

His woman. His Duchess. His wife .

Scarlett had thought that there was no greater pleasure possible when Hudson had touched her so intimately in his tower. But this… she swore she saw stars at the feel of his tongue on her aching flesh.

She had been shocked. Scandalized. Rendered incoherent at the sensual onslaught.

“Please… more …” she gasped, her mind fumbling around the limited vocabulary he allowed her. Fearful that he might stop if she dared disobey him.

He growled against her core, and the vibrations sent her careening into a blissful oblivion. She came apart in a strangled scream as the music rose to a crescendo around her, drowning out her impassioned cry. Still, his finger continued to thrust into her, and his tongue continued to swirl and dance upon her until she came apart again, shudders wracking her body as she sagged into the chair.

“Hudson, please…” she sobbed.

This was a torment of the most delicious kind, and he, the master of her agony, did not seem inclined to relent anytime soon. She could only sit there, her legs wide open as he drew out climax after climax from her body.

When he finally drew back, she could barely see him. Her vision had gone hazy, her chest aching from the screams she had swallowed.

“Look at you,” he growled, his gaze hot and possessive as it raked over her from the top of her disheveled hair to her spread legs. His hand caressed her thigh soothingly. “You liked that, did you not, little cat? You liked having my finger inside you.”

Scarlett did not even possess the energy to deny the charge. She would plead guilty on all counts and more. She liked his finger, his tongue… everything .

He lowered her legs and then smoothed her skirts over her still-quaking body. Vaguely, she felt his lips on her temple.

“This opera is not so entertaining,” he told her, drawing her into his arms. “Perhaps we should abscond from here.”

Leave in the middle of the performance? It was the height of rudeness—not to mention that her brother would be left behind without a means of transportation.

“Do not give me that look, little cat,” Hudson sighed. “I do not fancy another round of torment in the company of your brother.”

“It was rather ill-mannered of him to spring the Marquess upon us at such short notice,” she agreed.

Besides, she would very much rather disappear while the guests were too absorbed in the performance to notice the disheveled state of her hair and clothing.

Hudson, however, looked as immaculate as he had when they first walked in. It truly was unfair that he could stand there while she struggled to wobble on her feet. When he smirked proudly at her vain attempts, she glared at him.

“I shall have someone inform him that my Duchess is currently indisposed,” he said smugly.

She narrowed her eyes at him, even as she leaned into his solid strength with gratitude. “No thanks to you, Your Grace.”

“No better way to tell him to mind his own business. And he should know that the next time, I will not simply tell .”

As he helped her out of their box and into the carriage waiting for them outside the opera house, Scarlett could not help but sigh to herself.

Well now, he’s done it . Heaven only knows what it would take to put my poor brother back in Hudson’s good graces.

Her mama certainly would not be happy. She had been over the moon at her daughter being the Duchess. She certainly was not expecting her son to go and ruin that connection by being the absolute blockhead that he was—and all for what? His best friend?

Her brother had chosen the wrong horse to bet on, and even worse, he insisted on it still.

She yawned and leaned against Hudson, finding his shoulder to be extremely comfortable despite the muscle. As her eyes fluttered shut, she felt his arm wound around her, his solid warmth holding her steady as the carriage swayed on the way back to Wolverton Estate.