Page 16 of Most Sought-After Scoundrel in London (Wicked Widows League #31)

T he pungent smell of stale ale wafted through the inn.

Of late, Violet’s sense of smell had been extremely sensitive, causing her to become nauseous throughout the day.

At first, she believed herself to be with child, but she had experienced light bleeding prior to them leaving London.

Cameron had wanted to delay their departure, but time was of the essence, and Violet was determined to complete their mission.

“Are you feeling ill?” Cameron asked her.

She nodded, and her dear husband wrapped his solid, reassuring arm about her waist and escorted her to sit at a nearby table.

Cameron returned to the front desk. “We need a room for a week.”

The innkeeper, a middling-aged man, scratched his chin. “Yer wantin’ ta stay fer a full week… not passin’ through like most of yer lot do?”

It was the third village that they had visited in the past six weeks, and Violet had become accustomed to the strange looks they received when asking for an extended stay.

Apparently, peers either only stay a night or two or stayed with friends and relatives for longer visits.

Not having close acquaintances to reside with raised villagers' suspicions.

Thankfully, her husband's charismatic personality put people at ease relatively fast, and they were able to make their inquiries with little to no issues.

If only they could locate the girl with the butterfly-shaped birthmark.

“My wife is in a fragile state and prefers rest when possible.” Cameron turned his back to her and was most likely motioning to his belly, for the innkeeper’s eye suddenly widened with recognition.

“Yer in luck, me lord. 108.” With a broad smile, the innkeeper handed over a key and pointed to the stairs. “Up at the end. Room wif a window.”

Cameron took the key and was by her side within seconds to assist her up and take her to their room.

She’d been wed to Cameron for a little over a month, and she was still adjusting to married life.

The further she got from the dining room, the waves of nausea eased.

As soon as they entered their room, Cameron headed for the window and cracked it open for her.

The cool breeze sent a shiver through her but the fresh air did wonders to unravel the knots in her stomach.

Debating whether to sit upon the bed or occupy the chair next to the window, Violet leaned back against the door.

“For Warren’s sake…” Her husband frowned at her intimate use of Lord Guernsey’s given name, but Guernsey was such a mouthful, and after spending hours upon hours getting to know the man in order to assist him, Lord Guernsey was now more like a brother to her.

Feeling stronger, she pushed herself to stand without support and continued, “I hope we are close to discovering Miss Olivia Walton's whereabouts.”

Stripped down to his lawn shirt and trousers, Cameron stood next to the bed with his hands on his hips. “Who would have guessed we would be spending our wedding trip traipsing about England looking for a girl?—”

“Not a girl, a woman. And if Miss Walton is indeed the person we are searching for, she will be seven-and-twenty at the end of the month,” Violet interjected.

It irritated her to no end that both Cameron and Warren continued to refer to the person who’d saved Warren’s life as a child.

Based on the details, the Network had been able to gather, Miss Walton was no stranger to hardship, and she was smart enough to outwit her horrid family that had attempted to sell her off.

Miss Walton had been in hiding for over a decade.

Violet didn’t want to underestimate the woman’s ability to evade being found.

Cameron moved around the bed to stand in front of her.

Hands on her shoulders, he gently pushed her back to sit on the feather-stuffed mattress.

She wanted to sneeze but held it in. The twinkle of desire in her husband’s eyes had her reaching up to cup his face and bringing his skillful mouth to hers.

An inch away from her, Cameron stalled. “You need rest.”

Urgh. Her over-considerate husband had the willpower to resist temptation when he believed it to be in her best interest. She wished he trusted her to know her own strength. Coaxing her husband to sit next to her wasn’t the challenge; convincing him to let her have her way with him was.

“Do you mind playing maid again, dear husband?” She turned her back to him so he could release the row of tiny buttons that ran down the middle of her gown.

With nimble fingers and a skill he had mastered long before he met her, Cameron made quick work of undressing her until she was able to slip between the bed linens dressed only in her shift. Next was to get her husband to disrobe. He preferred to sleep naked; his natural body temperature ran hot.

Violet let out a small puff of air, and Cameron bent over her and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “You don’t feel feverish.”

“I’m well. Merely tired.” Racking her brain for a way to convince him to stop worrying and to kiss her instead, Violet rolled onto her side. She patted the empty space next to her. “Come to bed, my love.”

“I’m not ready to retire,” he claimed, although she suspected he was simply hoping she would fall asleep first before he lay next to her.

Tempting the rogue was proving to be harder than she expected. She rolled onto her back and placed her arm over her eyes and waited. Patience was key to seducing her husband. When she finally felt the bed dip, she rolled onto her side and wrapped her leg about his.

“Wife,” Cameron groaned.

She opened her eyes to find Cameron had tucked his hands behind his head and was staring straight up at the ceiling. Propped up on her elbow, she reached over and turned his face toward her. “Husband.”

His irises darkened, and she knew she had won.

He dipped his head and kissed her soundly, like he had been deprived of her mouth for months and not hours.

Deep, heady kisses had her lying on her back.

She wrapped her arms about his neck and spread her legs so he could lie atop her.

When his cock grazed her slit, her hips instinctively tilted up.

She wanted the intimacy of having a part of him deep inside her.

When they were joined, it was a feeling of invincibility, so powerful she yearned for it daily.

Cameron dipped his hand between them and stroked her until his fingers slipped effortlessly into her.

Alternating between circling and pinching the sensitive bud that had her arching her back, her husband brought her to a climax that elicited raw mewls of desire.

Wanting control, Violet pushed Cameron onto his back and straddled him.

After six weeks of bed sport, she had learned how to best please her husband.

He loved watching her find her release, and so did she.

As she lowered to take his engorged cock into her, Violet reveled in the feeling of fullness.

A shudder ran through her, prompting her to rock up and down, then back and forth, and then in a circular motion.

Cameron’s hands gripped her hips tightly.

Eyes trained on Cameron, Violet called out as the explosion at her core rippled throughout her.

Mere moments later, her husband thrusted harder into her over and over as her body became limp.

Sweaty and drained, she lay atop Cameron, whose breathing was hard and labored.

He pulled the covers over them and then slipped his arms around her to hug her tightly. “Lady Hurlington, it’s time to sleep.”

Violet tried to roll off him, but he tightened his arms about her, preventing her from moving.

“If it is sleep you wish for, then you need to release me.” She had learned the hard way that Cameron was no mind reader and that she had to vocalize her thoughts and wishes.

Now that she was comfortable doing so, she did so without hesitation but with love.

He relaxed his arms, and she rolled to lie beside him. “Cameron Crestwood, I love you.”

“And I love you.” Her husband closed his eyes and promptly fell fast asleep.

Violet smiled as she too drifted into a deep slumber. She would need the rest for her days were filled with challenges and adventure, just as she had hoped they would be.