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Page 34 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

T here was a certain pride to be felt when one successfully brought one’s wife to such heights of unparalleled pleasure that she promptly fell asleep.

While Hudson certainly had much experience with women, he had never felt anything beyond the immediate physical gratification from bedding them.

But this… this was different .

He watched Scarlett doze off peacefully in his arms as the carriage swayed on their way back home, and he could not help but smile. They had not even consummated their marriage yet, and he was already acting like a complete and utter mooncalf.

If he bedded her, made their marriage a true one, he knew he would never be able to walk away from her. And suddenly, it did not seem like such a bad idea at all.

The carriage slowed down to a halt, and a footman knocked on the door. “We have arrived, Your Grace.”

Hudson opened the curtain and pressed a finger to his lips, gesturing for the man to keep quiet. His Duchess was asleep.

The footman nodded and stepped slightly to the side.

“Scarlett.” Hudson shook her gently. “Little cat, we have arrived home.”

Home . It stirred something deep within him, but it was quickly buried when she groaned and buried her nose in his chest.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled softly.

Hudson could not help but chuckle. In his entire existence, he had never found a slumbering woman adorable.

Except his wife, of course.

Unfortunately, they could not stay in the carriage for much longer.

“Open the door,” he ordered the footman.

The man bowed and pulled the door open, his expression one of great surprise when Hudson exited the carriage with their Duchess in his arms.

We are going to need a bigger carriage , and one with even bigger doors.

His brother-in-law, however, and that damned best friend of his were not welcome to ride in it. They could walk, for all he cared.

Hudson made his way to the Duchess’s suite with his precious cargo without much incident, when he heard a low growl at his feet. He looked down and found a mound of snow-white fur and dark eyes regarding him with suspicion, tiny teeth bared.

“Snowflake, eh?” he muttered, and the puppy gave an incensed bark. Belatedly, he recalled hearing Scarlett joyfully call it Snowdrop. “I was not aware that puppies feel insulted at being called the wrong name.”

The dog gave another yip and trotted after him as he laid Scarlett gently on the bed. He tucked the covers around her and turned to leave when a delicate hand wrapped around his wrist. He looked down in surprise to find Scarlett gazing at him solemnly.

“Please stay,” she mumbled, sitting up on the bed.

I cannot , he wanted to say. I have done more than enough.

But his very soul seemed to ignite when she held him, refusing to let him go. The puppy regarded them with an expectant look before it trotted over to a pile of pillows and blankets in the corner.

Hudson heard her soft huff of laughter. “Even Snowdrop agrees. Do stay the night, Hudson. We promise we will not bite.” She bit her lower lip and looked coyly up at him. “Not unless you want me to.”

“Naughty, little cat.” He smiled. “You will be the death of me.”

She laughed softly. “Oh, I prefer you very much alive, dear husband—in all the ways that matter.”

He bit back a groan as her fingertips trailed idly from his chest down, down… further down.

He grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her to him. “You ask too much of me,” he murmured hoarsely.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes shining in the flickering firelight. “Only what a wife deserves from her husband.”

He groaned and pressed his lips to hers, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth. Claiming her.

Scarlett answered him with the same fervor, her tongue darting out to mate with his in a dance as old as time.

“Touch me,” she whispered. “See for yourself how much I long for you.”

She was an enchantress, and her words were a spell woven to ensnare him in a cage he never wanted to leave.

He expertly plucked at the row of tiny buttons at her back and impatiently pushed her gown off her shoulders to pool at her waist. Her creamy skin glowed, and in the soft light, he could see the faint shadow of her areolae through the thin shift she wore underneath. He brushed his thumb over a peak, and she arched into him with a satisfied sigh, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, taking that tight, little bud into his mouth and sucking on it. “So bloody mine .”

“Yes,” she sighed. “I am yours. All yours .”

He slipped his hand under her skirts and groaned when he found her wet and ready for him. When she ground her hips against his hand, his control snapped.

“You do not know what you are asking for, wife,” he groaned. “I am?—”

Vile. A murderer.

“My husband . ”

His hand stilled, and he saw the fierceness in her eyes.

“I do not care that they call you the Wolf. Or rogue or devil or whatever vile epithet they wish—you are my husband , Hudson. Mine .”

The last word was uttered with a slight growl.

He had never found possessiveness attractive in a woman, but the sight of her passionately claiming him for herself had him on his knees.

“Then let us make sure you will not live to regret it.”

They called him a rogue. A libertine. Despoiler of innocents. The fiercest of the Wolves.

But none of that mattered to Scarlett. She wanted him . Hudson Barrow. The man underneath those epithets.

Her husband.

His lips found hers once more as he pushed her into the mattress. Her clothes had been discarded some time ago, and she lay completely bare before him. He, however, was still fully clothed, except for the jacket and cravat she had disposed of earlier. This would certainly not do.

“This is not fair,” she mumbled. “I am bare as the day I was born, and you are still fully clothed!”

She impatiently worked on the buttons of his shirt and then pulled at his breeches, earning a soft chuckle from him. He pressed her further into the mattress, and she felt him— all of him. From his chest down to his muscular legs.

But most of all, she felt the hard, insistent heat of his manhood probing between her thighs. Scarlett wiggled a little, coaxing a strangled groan from him.

“You truly are going to be the death of me, Duchess.”

Quick as lightning, he seized her wrists and pinned them above her head. His leg slid between hers, and heat coursed through her.

“Are you sure you want this?” he rasped against her neck. “If you do not want this, just say the word and I shall leave.”

Leave? The word sent her into a slight panic.

“No.” She shook her head. “Stay. I need my husband. I need you .”

“You do not realize what you are asking for,” he groaned.

She nodded. “I do. I truly do.”

He dropped his head to her breast. “It will be very hard to stop once I am inside you, but if you say so, I will do it. I will stop even if it kills me.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his head. “Husband, I thought we have already established the fact that I prefer you alive.”

He groaned, and she felt the broad tip of his cock prodding her entrance. She was still slick from his touch and his sheer proximity, but even then, she closed her eyes.

She may be innocent, but she was not stupid nor ignorant, as much as her mama might have thought she was. She had seen their horses mating in the stables. She also had a dreadful habit of listening in on conversations of a scandalous nature, and she learned enough to put together a list that would have sent her mama to bed clutching a bottle of hartshorn.

But nothing could prepare Scarlett for the immensity of what they were about to do.

And, good heavens, was he immense!

She had heard some of the married ladies talk of the marriage bed. Had known that there was some pain involved in the first coupling. She just was not as certain that those ladies’ husbands were in the same league as Hudson.

She closed her eyes as he inched into her. Oh, he was huge . She could feel him stretching her, could feel herself opening up to accommodate his girth.

“Open your eyes, little cat,” he commanded in a hoarse voice. “Look at me.”

Scarlett blinked her eyes open as he slid deeper into her. She bit her lower lip, forcing down the whine that lingered in her throat.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

She breathed slowly. “A little,” she admitted. And then she added, “But I can handle it.”

His laugh was hoarse, part humor and part groan. “I know you can take it. All of it. I just wish I could spare you the pain.”

“Hudson.” She was beginning to get frustrated with him.

Why was he being a gentleman in bed? She wanted him wicked. Wild. Undone.

“ Please. ”

She saw his eyes darken, saw the change overcome him, and she nearly crowed in triumph.

He surged into her, wrenching a cry from her lips as the friction seared through her. There was a sharp pain, yes, but she could not even acknowledge it when there was such pleasure . It was a little similar to what she felt when he touched her, but also different . More profound.

He shifted his weight a little, and she felt it .

Deep inside her, something was burgeoning. Like a seed that had found the sun. Like heat that lit from within.

She felt whole. Complete.

Oh my.

He moved again, withdrawing the slightest bit before sinking into her once more. Pleasure burst within her as her eyes fluttered shut, the earlier pain fast becoming a distant echo.

“Oh…” she sighed. “Hudson…”

“I know, little cat.” He smirked. “You like it.”

Like it? She was going to go mad if he did not do it again. And again. And again.

He pulled out and then thrust into her once more. “I like it just as much,” he growled. “You, so wet and hot and tight, wrapped around me like this. It drives me near mad with pleasure.”

Then do not stop, for both our sakes!

He groaned as he thrust into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, straining towards him, blindly reaching for that bright, white heat that blazed between them.

She heard somebody cry out in joy, only to realize that it was her .

She had left everything behind as she grappled with the profound bliss that overtook her. There was no room for hesitation. For doubt.

She dashed towards that brilliance as if she was astride the swiftest of horses. Crashed into it with a keening cry as she felt pure, undiluted pleasure course through her veins.

“Hudson!”

He snapped his hips three times, and then they fell over the precipice.

Together.

Hudson had never felt a release like the one he experienced with Scarlett just now. It was not just a carnal slaking of his lust, but one that shook him to his very soul.

He wrapped his arm under her shaking shoulders, holding her close as he turned them both onto their sides. She let out a slight whimper that sounded like a protest as he slipped out of her tight channel.

He frowned as she pulled the covers over herself. He had lost all semblance of control, allowing himself to be pulled into her pleasure. Because of that, she would be quite sore in the morning.

A hot bath .

She would need it to stave off the tenderness their consummation would bring.

He turned to climb out of bed, but her arms came fast around him, her fingers digging into his back.

“Don’t go,” she pleaded with him. “ Stay .”

Her eyes were already fluttering shut, heavy with sleep, but she would not let him go just yet.

It would be so simple, to stay and allow her light to cleanse him of his sins. He could hold her and allow her to free him of the chains that bound him. Chains that kept him from being with her fully.

But the ghosts of the past would not relinquish him so easily. As Scarlett drifted off into slumber, they snapped at his heels like hounds chasing after a fox. He had thought himself wily enough, cunning enough to evade them, but they still managed to catch up to him.

“I am so sorry, little cat,” he apologized softly, pressing a kiss to her brow. “I fear I cannot stay.”

Staying would only drag her down with him, and he had already done so much.

He sighed and rolled over to the side of the bed. He pulled the blankets over her shoulder, his chest clenching at the sight of her sleeping so peacefully, her red-gold hair like a river of fire on the pillows.

She was so lovely, his wife.

And he was so tainted.

He turned away and dressed himself, but he could not find his cravat. He would have to leave without it.

A soft whine drew his attention to his feet. Snowdrop must have woken up after their… activities , and now the puppy was looking at him expectantly, almost accusingly.

“I am afraid I have to leave,” he told the loyal animal. “I cannot stay here with her. I just can’t. But you can.”

The dog gave a slight bark, and Hudson pressed a finger to his lips in warning. Snowdrop immediately quieted down as if he understood his meaning, dark eyes regarding him with uncanny intelligence.

“Watch over her for me, Snowdrop.”