To Tame a Wicked Widow (Surrey SFS Book 2)

by Nicola Davidson

  A startled laugh escaped. “Faith and Winifred view silence as a lady’s failure to guide conversation. The vicar I cannot comment on, as I have not yet had the pleasure of conversing with him.”

  “Avoid it as long as you possibly can. He adheres to my cousins’ opinion that you are a harlot and a garish red-headed whore of Babylon.”

  All the air whooshed from Madeline’s lungs, and she choked. “Uh…”

  Lord Dare winced and rubbed his forehead. “Forgive me. I am inept when it comes to social niceties. Far too much time spent in dusty libraries and desert digs, not nearly enough conversing with ladies in ballrooms or parlors. I must remember to think before I speak.”

  “Some might consider your inclination toward honesty rather than guile refreshing, my lord.”

  “Might they?” he said softly, those amber eyes fixing on her in a way that made her nipples tauten painfully against her stays.

  Madeline swallowed hard. What was it about this young lord that made her body react like this? He wasn’t indulging in flirtation. He wasn’t even touching her. And yet she wanted to run her fingers through his slightly rumpled hair. Kiss that dimple. Slap the hat from his hands and see if his trouser bulge fulfilled the promise that his stature suggested. “Indeed.”

  “That is good to know. My mother considers me a lost cause.”

  “Then we have something in common.”

  Lord Dare rolled his shoulders again, and she had to curl her fingers into fists to stop herself from touching him. Perhaps offering an oil massage. While naked.

  Good grief. She had quite lost her mind. Especially unhelpful in the current situation, with a houseful of guests who would watch her like a hawk and do everything they could to make her life dismal. She had to be on guard, not indulging in explicit daydreams.

  Madeline cleared her throat. “It is a little chilly out here. Won’t you come inside? I’ll show you to your chamber.”

  “That would be most kind,” he replied, his gaze quizzical.

  Damn him thrice. Why did he have to look disappointed, as though he didn’t want the private conversation to end?

  “Do come this way,” she said in her best impersonal lady of the manor voice as they crossed the small entrance hall and made their way to the stairs. “As head of the family, I have placed you in Sir Josiah’s old chamber. I hope you’ll find it comfortable. Would you like a bath before supper? It is no trouble to have the copper tub sent up. Oh, by the by, is your valet travelling separately?”

  Lord Dare shook his head. “I don’t have one. Another rebellion against English propriety, foolish I know. But I got used to attending to my own needs while travelling, and rather like the privacy and independence.”

  Again, Madeline imagined him entirely naked and attending to his own needs, and she stumbled, only halted from kissing the wooden stairs by a large hand curling around her upper arm. Even through the sleeve of her gown she could feel the heat and strength, and she barely suppressed a moan at the thought of those long, nimble fingers on her bare skin. Pinching her nipples until they were so sensitive she could scarcely bear the pressure. Circling her swollen clitoris. Twisting and teasing deep inside her pussy as he found that special spot that launched her to the heavens.

  “Lady Upcott? Are you well?”

  Heat scorched across her cheekbones. No, she most certainly wasn’t well. Well women did not entertain wild, erotic fantasies of bedding their late husband’s second cousin. Especially not one barely graduated from university.

  Even wicked widows had to observe some proprieties.

  “Oh yes,” Madeline said with a false, bright smile.

  She would just have to grit her teeth and keep him at arm’s length.

  No matter how much she wanted otherwise.

  Setting down his leather-bound journal with a thump, Ethan groaned.

  He’d thought to go over some old notes and sketches from Egypt until he was tired enough to sleep in this rather cell-like bedchamber, but all he’d found were detailed paragraphs about pleasure toys. The legend of Cleopatra and her live bee-filled gourd. The preference of leather dildos to stone or wood. And now he was as hard as oak himself as his mind wandered to his beautiful hostess.

  How wicked was Lady Upcott, really?

  Given Faith and Winifred’s belief that showing even a square inch of bare skin made a woman a harlot, he refused to take their opinion with anything other than a grain of salt. But the notion that the sensual and voluptuous lady of the house might be adventurous and uninhibited when it came to fucking, perhaps enthusiastically embrace toys, oral acts, even ass play…

  Ethan groaned again as his cock strained against his trousers. He definitely needed different reading matter, something bland and dull that would send him straight to sleep. Maybe there might be something in the small library down the hallway. Lady Upcott had pointed it out earlier, and generously offered him full use of it.

  Hauling himself out of an uncomfortable high-backed wooden chair, he padded out of his borrowed chamber and down the narrow candlelit hallway to the library. Knowing Sir Josiah, there would be slumber-inducing tomes aplenty.

  “Oh! Good evening, my lord.”

  He froze, almost speechless at the sight of Lady Upcott curled in an overstuffed armchair in front of a well-stoked fire, with an open book. Mainly because she wore a jade-green satin dressing gown tightly belted at the waist, which only emphasized her lush breasts and hips. “Good evening,” he replied, a trifle hoarsely. “Didn’t mean to disturb. I just wanted something unreadable to send me to sleep.”

  “Help yourself,” she said with an impish smile. “Sir Josiah ensured we have plenty of examples. Do take care not to choke on the dust, though.”

  Ethan’s lips twitched. “My, my, Lady Upcott. Never say you read for inspiration and education rather than lethargy?”

  “Prepare yourself, my lord…” she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “…I do.”

  He mock staggered. “I’m shocked. Shocked, I say.”

  Lady Upcott beamed. “No, you aren’t. How delightful. I’ve been told on many occasions that a well-read lady is a blight on society and will bring about the fall of the empire. It is yet another of my crimes alongside harlot and garish red-headed whore of Babylon, one imagines.”

  Oh, but he liked this woman. Stunningly beautiful with mouthwatering curves was one thing, but well-read and a sharp wit? What an intoxicating combination. “Indeed.”

  “Lord Dare, you are staring.”

  “I…was just trying to see the title, and the true extent of your depravity, madam.”

  “You witness a lady beyond redemption, I’m afraid,” she said huskily, shifting in the chair, and causing her breasts to strain against the robe. “Last week it was the journals of Captain Cook’s first voyage, followed by the memoirs of a Paris courtesan. This is Aristophanes Lysistrata. It is so very amusing.”

  By the gods. She read Ancient Greek plays? “Did you know he apparently devised one hundred and six ways of describing the male part?”

  Lady Upcott blinked, and Ethan wanted to sink beneath the floorboards. Why the hell had he blurted that?

  “Hmmm,” she said, twirling the end of her robe’s sash around one finger. “And a woman’s?”

  “Excuse me?” he replied, his mind turning to mud at the thought of that sash loosening.

  “How many descriptions of womanly parts?”

  “Oh. Ah…ninety one, I believe.”

  “You know the most fascinating tidbits, my lord,” she purred in a tone that wrapped around his cock and squeezed it.

  “More so after a few bottles of brandy. Although I fear the topics move from risqué to downright disturbing. My field of study in Egypt was…rather unconventional. Sexual practices and rituals in the ancient world.”

  Rather than dismay or distaste, Lady Upcott’s face brightened with what looked remarkably like genuine interest. “Now I’m thoroughly intrigued, Lord Dare. Although I’d wager yo
u have intrigued women since…Cambridge?”

  Ethan snorted. “You’d lose that bet. I was a lanky pile of bones with two left feet and little polite conversation. Then I sailed for Cairo, and there aren’t too many ladies trudging around the pyramids and whatnot. It’s no wonder I’m still a v…”

  Oh fuck.

  Horror at the unthinking lapse scorched a path of fire across his cheekbones, but any hopes that he’d trailed off before she understood were immediately dashed as her jaw dropped.

  “You’ve never been with a woman?”

  No.

  “Of course I have,” he replied, scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t make him sound even more pathetic. “Just…er…not many.”

  Lady Upcott rose from her chair and strolled toward him, her hips swaying and breasts bobbing gently. “I’m afraid your inclination toward honesty tells a different story, my lord.”

  Not as much as his rock-hard cock. He needed to get out of here before he disgraced himself completely. Swiftly, Ethan snatched the first book he could reach from the library shelf. “Ah, that will do. Good evening—”

  “Put that down.”

  He stilled. “Beg pardon?”

  “You don’t need a treatise on crop rotation,” she murmured, standing so close her visibly hard nipples nearly brushed his chest. “Not when there are much better ways to relax oneself.”

  “Are you offering to help, Lady Upcott?” he rasped, his heart about to pound right out of his chest.

  “Tell me if I’m incorrect…I think perhaps you’ve mastered the theory but not the practical. Me, on the other hand, well, the rumors are true. I greatly enjoy bedsport and make no apology for it. So, if you wish for some no-obligation instruction—”

  “Yes. Hell yes.”

  She licked her lips, her gray eyes glittering like stars. “Then, Lord Dare, why don’t you come to my chamber in ten minutes or so. I’ll unlock the connecting door, and we’ll take care of this troublesome virginity matter. No one need ever know.”

  And just like that, his evening vastly improved.

  Chapter 2

  So much for keeping Lord Dare at arm’s length.

  Madeline added a few drops of rosewater behind her ears, then sighed at her pink cheeks, glittering eyes, and jutting nipples in the dressing table looking glass. No matter what her body thought, this charitable act had mistake written all over it. Not just because of his position and hers, his age, their families, or any of that, but more because…there was something altogether far too appealing about this virgin viscount. His bookish tendencies. His humor and blunt speech. That bloody dimple.

  Had she ever genuinely liked a man she’d bedded?

  She frowned. Perhaps not. After Sir Josiah it had just been about hard bodies and harder cocks, a chance to forge her own path and make up for years of sporadic, brief, and wholly unsatisfying marital relations. Pleasant gentlemen all, but unmemorable.

  Lord Dare, however, might be another matter entirely. And yet a young man, fickle and spendthrift as they tended to be, would never be the right man for her.

  “Bah!” said Madeline, picking up her hairbrush and dragging it through her curls with unnecessary ferocity. Why was she even pondering such things? This would be one night of sexual instruction, and then they would say farewell as amiable acquaintances. Nothing more.

  A knock sounded on the connecting door, thankfully interrupting her perplexing thoughts.

  “Come in,” she called, and her pussy clenched in excitement. Indeed, whatever her mind cautioned, her body wanted this more than anything.

  “Good evening again, my lady.”

  Oh God.

  Lord Dare wore a black silk robe that clung to his shoulders, and yet wasn’t quite tied tightly enough at the waist, inviting her to drink in the sight of a tempting triangle of bronzed chest dusted with dark hair. Although not even that could compare to the prominent bulge tenting the robe further down. Good grief. He was every bit as large as she’d hoped, and she couldn’t wait to touch him. To measure the girth and length of him with her fingers and lips. To be pressed down onto her bed by his huge frame, while his chest hair teased her nipples and his cock plundered…

  “My lord,” she replied, barely suppressing a whimper. “Why don’t you come over here and keep me company?”

  “Ethan,” he said abruptly as he walked toward her. “My name is Ethan. I’d like to just be me tonight.”

  She blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Very well. You may call me Madeline. Now, do untie your robe before your poor cock is strangled to death.”

  Color raced across his cheekbones, yet he still raised an imperious eyebrow. “Am I a Tattersall’s thoroughbred to be inspected?”

  Oh. He might be a young virgin, but that stern tone made her want to kneel at his feet. And yet she couldn’t allow her thoughts to stray down that path. The nuances of sexual submission were complex, and her need to be dominated, to be held fast in the exhilarating coil of pain-tinged pleasure, was definitely not something he could be expected to understand. Or even desire. She must continue to take the lead, however wrong it felt. “Hardly. That delight is reserved for us ladies. I merely wish to take you in my mouth and suck you until you come.”

  His indrawn breath helped restore her equilibrium just a little.

  “My first lesson?” he asked unevenly.

  Madeline shook her head. “No. That will begin shortly afterward. There is simply no point in attempting to instruct you when your cock is in its present state. Men can think with their balls or their brain at any given moment. Not both.”

  “Harsh…but perhaps fair,” Ethan replied, his lips twitching as he undid his robe sash.

  Leaning forward on her padded dressing table stool, she eagerly pushed aside the folds of soft fabric. Then she cupped his engorged cock in her hands and stroked him up and down. Even the thought of such thickness filling her pussy made her squirm in delight, and the desire to make him climax so they could then pleasure at leisure increased tenfold. As pearly moisture gathered at the swollen head of his cock, she darted out her tongue and lapped it away. Hmmm. He tasted surprisingly delicious, all clean and musky and salty, and her grip firmed to encourage more to seep out.

  Ethan gave a strangled groan, and his hips jerked forward. Relaxing her jaw, Madeline took him inside her mouth, hollowing her cheeks for extra suction, and his breathing became ragged, his fingers tangling in her hair as his cock thrust in and out of her mouth.

  “Yes,” he gritted out. “Just like that…Fucking perfect…”

  Her pussy pulsing, her nipples hard as diamonds, Madeline sucked him greedily. But her gaze never left his face, the sight of his raw arousal far too intoxicating. “Mmmmmm.”

  “Wait, Madeline, I’m going to…” he rasped, as though he expected her to release him and have him come in her palms. Instead, she drew harder on his cock, one hand squeezing the base while the other caressed his balls, and he climaxed with a low roar, his seed erupting into her mouth in several strong spurts of bliss.

  Now Ethan looked a trifle dazed, and she smiled as she disengaged, delicately licking a few stray drops from the head of his erection before letting it hang freely against his thigh. Although in fairness, he wasn’t the only one unsure which way was up. Never before had she taken such enjoyment in sucking a cock. Nor had she allowed a man to spill in her mouth. In the past it had been a chore, a perfunctory task of preparation so a lover would be able to take her hard and fast the way she liked.

  But that had been incredibly sensual. And the overwhelming sense of feminine satisfaction that coursed through her veins when he praised her, when her ministrations shoved him helplessly over the edge…well. Her submissive self had twirled in delight.

  “Madeline,” said Ethan hoarsely, and she marveled at the sight of his cock beginning to harden again. Good grief. Perhaps she had been entirely too hasty in her judgement of younger men.

  Nodding, she stood up. “I know. But perhaps we should have a lit
tle brandy now. And then, my dear Ethan, you are going to be a good student and learn how to fuck a woman properly.”

  Still shaking, mind whirling, Ethan attempted to get his bearings.

  In the privacy of his rooms, he’d made himself come on many occasions, but the sensation and relief of that didn’t hold a candle to the experienced touch of a beautiful, eager woman. The wet warmth of Madeline’s mouth…the lash of her tongue…having his cock sucked had been wondrous enough. What would it be like to be deep inside her scalding hot cunt, his hands on her lush breasts, her thighs wrapped around his waist?

  Swallowing hard, he watched her stroll to her writing desk and then pour two drinks from a crystal decanter. She returned to hand him a tumbler with a generous serve.

  “Excellent drop,” he said, savoring the tart bite of the brandy. “From my cousin’s cellar?”

  Madeline laughed. “Sir Josiah disapproved of imbibing. I’m afraid you have discovered yet another of my vices.”

  He shrugged. “You’ll hear no complaint from me. Can’t imagine ever bothering with the waters of Bath when restoratives like cock sucking and good brandy are available. I’m already a new man.”

  “You are indeed,” she murmured, her gaze caught between his legs, and his cock twitched with anticipation.

  Hell. How incredibly fortunate that this woman would be his first lover. Her sensual enthusiasm, and her warmth and wit had made this far less awkward and embarrassing than it might have been in a cold financial transaction. In exchange he wanted to learn enough about Madeline’s preferences to satisfy her. Repeatedly.

  “You’ll make me blush,” said Ethan, and after setting down his empty glass, he took his erection in hand, curved his fingers around it and slowly pumped.

  She made a faint whimpering sound, and her thighs pressed together. Oh indeed, the lady appeared ready and willing. Even now a faint, delectably spicy scent perfumed the air, and his mouth watered at the thought of tasting her in return.