To Wager the Marquis of Wolverstone (Wicked Wagers BK2-Regency Romance) Long Novella

by Bronwen Evans

  She loved the feeling of control. She could make him moan with desire with just a simple suck and groan with need when she removed her mouth from him.

  She had no idea if she was doing this properly but when he moaned, “Sabine, you’re my love,” and his hands entangled themselves in her hair, she thought she must be doing something right.

  She grew bolder, taking him deeply into her mouth, nearly into her throat, stroking him with both hands and suckling him faster and harder.

  She could feel her own body grow wet with desire. She redoubled her efforts, feeling his grip tighten ruthlessly in her hair, his hips moving in time with her mouth. “Oh, God, Sabine, I’m going to come.”

  She suckled even harder. That’s what she wanted. She wanted all of him. She was shaking as much as Marcus, whose body was taut with tension. He tried to withdraw at the last second, but she held him fast, clasping his hips possessively. With a roar of pleasure, he convulsed and spilled his seed down her throat, pressing desperately into her mouth. She drank every last drop; it was the taste of Marcus, the taste of love. She’d never tasted any other man like that before. He was panting heavily, pulsating in her mouth again and again and again.

  He released his fingers from her hair and fell backward on the bed. She relinquished his member with slow licks. “You taste divine,” she murmured huskily.

  “Come here, my love,” he panted. “That was amazing.”

  She rose on shaky legs and climbed up on to the bed to lie beside him. He smiled and its warmth soaked into her heart. He looked ravished—hair tousled, cheeks flushed but, most of all, he looked happy. He hadn’t been happy for a long, long time. She’d done that for him, given him back his happiness.

  She gazed tenderly at him for a long moment. “This will be a perfect memory.”

  “We will make many more perfect memories, I promise. In fact, if you give me a minute, I’ll start making more.” He rolled onto his side and kissed her.

  Just then there was a light knock at the door. “Mama, why is your door locked?”

  “Mama’s getting dressed, she’ll be out shortly. Please go and tell Cook I’m especially hungry this morning. I’ll have two eggs.”

  They heard Alfredo’s footsteps disappear down the hall.

  “Unfortunately, privacy is scarce when you have a child. That’s my son…”

  “Our son,” he corrected.

  Doubt crept over her features. “Are you sure? He looks so like…”

  “I’m sure. He’s a part of you. How could I not love him?” Marcus sat up and began to button his trousers while Sabine reached for her robe. Marcus took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm. “We will be a family. A family filled with love. And soon, perhaps we will have a child of our own.”

  She kissed his check. “I’d like that. In fact, I suggest we start on that tonight. I couldn’t think of a better wedding gift than conceiving your child.”

  “Those are the sweetest words I’ve ever heard. I intend to take you up on that invitation. Now, let’s go and introduce me to Alfredo.”

  “Don’t be nervous. He’ll love you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely sure, because he’ll see that you make me very, very happy. He’ll love you simply for that.”

  Epilogue

  Some four weeks later, they were married by special license in the chapel at Marcus’s country estate, Lanreath. The couple kept the ceremony a private affair with only close friends and family in attendance.

  Collette, Marcus’s mother, treated Sabine like the daughter she’d never had. The pair of them got along famously, sometimes too famously for Marcus’s comfort. At times he felt he’d definitely lost control of his home but it was a feeling he greatly enjoyed.

  He looked across the room at where Alfredo was playing happily with his five year old spaniel, Tudor. His glance continued to sweep around the room, and as he gazed lovingly at his wife and child, he felt a wave of contentment engulf him. He walked over to Alfredo and kissed his forehead. “Tudor likes you. Would you like him to be your dog?”

  Alfredo looked up at Marcus with awe shinning in his eyes. “You’d like to give him to me?”

  He tousled the boy’s hair, and in a voice choked with love said, “You’re my son. I’ll give you anything your heart desires.”

  Alfredo threw his arms around Marcus’s waist. “Thank you, Papa. I’ll take special care of him.”

  Papa. What a sweet word! “I know you will, my son.”

  Sabine joined them and whispered, “Thank you,” tears of love shining in her eyes for both the boy and the man.

  Marcus slipped his arms around her shoulders and pressed her close to his side, while taking Alfredo’s small hand in his.

  The boy looked up at him in awe. Marcus was his hero. Life was good.

  Harlow and Caitlin had made the journey for the marriage and celebration and the duke was delighted to see his friend content at last. Henry and Harlow couldn’t apologize enough for their mistaken maligning of Sabine and proposed to spend the rest of their lives in service and fealty to her, as if they were her personal white knights.

  Caitlin, although younger then Sabine, instantly became her new best friend. Caitlin had news of her own. She let slip that she was with child, and soon everyone at the reception was celebrating the new generation to come.

  However, all the friends noticed how quiet and withdrawn Henry had become.

  Marcus said, “It’s your turn next, Henry. I’m sure love is getting ready to turn your world upside down too.”

  Henry looked pointedly at the ladies present. “It’s not love that I’m lacking.” As the ladies drifted off, the men were left to their discussion.

  “I love Millicent.”

  “She’s your mistress. Loyalty is not love, Henry,” Harlow argued. “Don’t confuse the two.”

  “Leave him, Harlow. I know what it’s like to love a woman you think you can’t have. It’s hell on earth.” Marcus smiled understandingly at his friend. “You’ll see; you’ll find a way. It will turn out alright in the end.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so.”

  The men raised their glasses “To love,” said Henry.

  “To love and, my friends, look at me if you ever need confirmation of the power and potential of love.” Marcus smiled sweetly across the room at his wife and son, and his chest puffed out with justifiable pride. “I’m truly the luckiest man in the world now. I’m living proof that love conquers all; that love, with time and forbearance, overcomes all wickedness.”

  Henry raised his glass. “Yes. Let’s drink to the power of love.”

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  If you liked my novella about Marcus and Sabine, check out Harlow and Caitlin’s story,

  To Dare the Duke of Dangerfield, released Feb 2012,

  …and watch for Henry’s story,

  To Challenge the Earl of Cravenswood

  coming August 2012

  Visit my website for more info

  www.bronwenevans.com

  To Dare the Duke of Dangerfield

  Let the Wicked Wagers Begin...

  Lady Caitlin Southall’s temper has finally got the better of her. She’s challenged Harlow Telford, the Duke of Dangerfield, the mos
t notorious rake in all of England, to a wager. She wants her house back. The one her destitute father lost to Dangerfield in a card game. But if she doesn’t win their bet, she not only loses her home, she loses her dignity and pride and damn it all, maybe her heart... For the handsome Duke has decreed, when he wins, she must spend the night in his bed.

  Harlow Telford is amused by his hellion neighbor, Caitlin, or Cate to her friends, who seem to encompass everyone on earth except him. When she bursts into one of his private gatherings, he mistakes her for the entertainment. Her slap across his face sets him straight and raises the absurd desire to seduce the unconventional beauty into his bed. When she issues her daft challenge to win back her father’s pile of rubble, the terms are set. And he’ll do anything to win—except fall in love...

  Now for a BONUS

  Read excerpts from my other Regency romances in the

  INVITATION TO series

  INVITATION TO SCANDAL

  and

  INVITATION TO RUIN

  Read on…

  INVITATION TO SCANDAL – 1 May 2012

  Excerpt...

  Once inside the dark and shadowy stables, Rufus walked deliberately towards her. She tried to move out of his way but she wasn’t quick enough and Rheda soon found herself up against the stable wall. Rufus’s voice was soft and sensual, calling to her. “Men too, can tell when a woman is ripe for the taking.”

  Rheda found her gaze riveted on his lips. Her heart began to pound in her chest. Her eyes swept across the rest of his face and froze at the expression that greeted her. He had gone quite still. There was soft fire in his eyes and his gaze held her spellbound.

  He reached up and slid his fingers behind her nape. Her breathing faltered altogether. Then shockingly, he lowered his mouth to meet hers in a feather light contact.

  Once again she was immersed in a rush of sensation at the exquisite caress. His lips were warm and firm, yet enticingly soft at the same time – and much too tempting.

  Stifling a gasp, Rheda pressed her palms against his chest and pulled back her reeling head. “I am not a mare to be taken on your whim.”

  “So you admit you want to be taken, it is only a matter of when.”

  Anger flared, dousing her desire. She shoved him away from her, and moved away from the wall. To her disappointment he did not even try to stop her. She stood breathing hard looking at his strong face, arresting and strikingly handsome in the dim stable light. He had a beautiful mouth, his lips were chiseled and generous and they curved now in a knowing smile as he returned her regard.

  “You are delusional,” she scathingly stated.

  “You have no idea what you are missing, sweetheart. Unlike animals, people experience passion.”

  “I am sure you would know.”

  He approached across the stable floor. Her legs were shaking too much to move away. He stood so close her breasts almost brushed his chest, but he did not touch her. “But do you know? Have you ever been so caught up in passion you forgot yourself?” His voice became husky. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

  She was trapped by the fire in his eyes. Rufus bent towards her and his warm breath caressed her mouth. Rheda was powerless to move. His hand cupped the back of her head. He drew her close and his other arm encircled her waist, pulling her roughly against his solid form. She was swamped by the strength and power of the man, yet not afraid. His lips began to play over hers with exquisite pressure. This kiss was slow and erotic and extremely thorough. Parting her lips, his tongue slid into her mouth, creating an intense yearning inside her.

  The effect of his kiss had her reaching to grip his shoulders. His lips deepened the kiss, his tongue penetrating and swirling in her mouth, stroking her desire. The heady sensation he roused was addictive.

  She could not resist letting him continue.

  Not when he was assailing her mouth with such silken roughness… molding, tasting, teasing and ultimately conquering. All her senses felt pummeled as his tongue worked its magic provocatively against hers, playing a game she desperately wanted to win but the winning strategy escaped her knowledge. Her body pushed hard against him and a small moan of surrender escaped her lips.

  In response, his kiss only deepened.

  She raised her hand to his dark chestnut locks. They felt amazingly thick and silky. His hand that had been holding her head slid down her shoulder, and moved to where the square décolletage of her dress exposed the pale skin above her breasts.

  She was unprepared for the explosion of feeling that swept her body when his knuckles skimmed the upper swells of her breasts. She gasped against his mouth but he kept on kissing her, arousing with firm tender stokes of his tongue, slowly driving, deliciously plundering.

  She wanted to move closer, to climb right in him and take that which had been denied her for so long. He shifted and through her skirts she felt the pressure of his sinewy thigh against her femininity. At the same time his hand moved lower to mould and cup her aching breast.

  Her moan was decidedly audible within the quiet of the stable, but she was beyond caring as the feverish surge of pleasure overwhelmed her. When his fingertips discovered her nipple through her bodice, fire streaked through her limbs, flooding her veins with shuddering heat.

  She could feel the wildness stirring in her blood. It clamored for this captivating man’s erotic assault on her senses. He was driving her mad, encouraging her response and taking her to a place she longed to go.

  He was seducing her. And she was content to let him.

  Yet, it was his tenderness that stunned her the most. She could feel how he was holding back his own strength and needs. Needs? She could feel the hard, extremely large evidence of his arousal against her stomach. Merciful heaven, what was she doing? A desperate voice protested in her head, more was dangerous.

  He was dangerous.

  Danger had never been more tantalizing.

  Rufus lifted his mouth from hers. He struggled to get his breathing under control. “See what you do to me, Rheda? I’m as eager as my stallion.”

  “I’m not doing anything to you. From what little I know of your reputation you’d be eager for any woman. You are merely trying to seduce me.”

  “Yes. I am,” he admitted, “and it’s working.”

  He caught her blink of surprise at his admission and boast. She cut her gaze away, and he stood mesmerized by the swallow of her throat. “Your touch… it does excite me.” She turned to look into his eyes. “But a seasoned rake such as you knows that. The signs are there for your senses to see and feel.”

  Rufus shook his head to clear it of his driving need to possess her. He could take her, here and now. He knew it and the beauty before him knew it too. Yet, he felt dissatisfied. Where was the honor in her surrender? He was too skilled for her to resist and having seen the primal mating of the horses her blood was stirred.

  Yet, he had to push her. Had to try and break down her resolve. He would not make love to her here even though his body hurt from his restraint. He wanted the first time with Rheda to be in a bed – his bed. Not in a stable reeking of manure and horses. He wanted to take his time, overwhelm her with pleasure and ensure she fell completely under his thrall.

  He would enslave her body. Make her crave his touch. Make her lose her mind in pleasure. Then perhaps she’d be more pliable. Perhaps she’d do anything to share his bed again, including letting her guard down and giving him what he really wanted – information.

  The only problem was that each time he kissed her, what he wanted changed. Metamorphosed into something dangerous. Retrieving much needed intelligence began to diminish as his desire to claim her rose to a crescendo beating loudly through his veins.

  He lifted his hand and stroked the back of his knuckles along her cheek.

  Her sweep of fair lashes lowered, fanning across her warm skin.

  “I do wish to seduce you, sweetheart. But I also desire you. Far more than I would wish.” He added in a ghost of a whisper.


  She looked up at him, unblinking. “Do you always get what you desire, my lord?”

  He answered with action. He lifted his hands to cradle her face, then stroked his thumb around the corner of her mouth, and then across her sensuous bottom lip. He felt the plump swell of it quiver beneath the pad of his thumb. He leaned forward, and skimmed his mouth along the shell of her ear. “Yes,” he murmured. “Always.”

  With a soft growl he picked her up and walked a few strides and sat her upon some hay bales. He crouched at her feet, sliding his hands over her firm thighs, flat stomach and cradled her firm breasts. He felt her nipples harden through the layers of her clothes.

  He watched her face for any sign of denial. The sun shone through the open doorway but the gloom of the stable caused the light to flicker over the fine bones of her face, and the silken sweep of her eyelashes.

  Rheda gasped faintly at his touch, and trembled when he hooked his thumbs in the edge of her bodice. No corset. It was as if she welcomed his seduction. Her head went back to rest on the bales piled behind her and with a deft tug; he drew the fabric down, taking her chemise with it, until her pink nipples were exposed. The roaring in his ears increased – she was beautiful.

  He hesitated; willing her to protest but the snorts of the animals surrounding them was the only sound.

  Rufus leaned forward to draw her left nipple between his lips, she gasped as his mouth suckled and gently nipped. He took that as a sound of approval. He drew her breast more fully into his mouth, until she began to make small, breathy sounds of pleasure. Then he moved to the other breast, first circling the nipple with his tongue, teasing her as Caesar had teased her mare, then sucking at the very hardened tip as he gently nipped with his teeth.

  Her murmurs grew more demanding. As Rufus cradled one breast and kissed her deeply, his other hand fisted in her skirts. Fleetingly he knew he should be horsewhipped. He was not so lost in pleasure that he could not appreciate the precariousness of their situation. Anyone could come across them, Jamieson, Daniel…