His Scandalous Viscountess (Lustful Lords Series Book 3)

by Sorcha Mowbray

  And then Wolf was pushing against her sphincter, stretching and invading her already-filled body. She moaned and squirmed on Linc’s rod.

  He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath through his nose. “Double damn.”

  Wolf pushed into her arse then, an inexorable motion that drove any thought from her head. All she could do was feel. Feel him, feel Linc, and feel stuffed full of cock in the most delicious way.

  Linc opened his eyes as Wolf seated inside her. Her gaze locked with his as she continued to wiggle, letting her body adjust.

  Wolf leaned in close to her. “Now ride our cocks, Jules.”

  Her gaze flared wide in surprise, locking with Linc. “I can’t. I can’t move.”

  “Yes, you can, and we’ll help you,” Linc replied, placing his hands on her hips. “Raise up, sweetheart.”

  And she did, rising up a bit. Strong hands lifted her higher, and then let her slide back down. As their cocks slid out and then back into her, she gasped. With each rise and fall they established a rhythm, slowly increasing their pace until the three of them worked together. Wolf and Linc pumped into her arse and quim, while she lifted up and sank back down.

  And then Linc leaned forward and sucked one pebbled nipple into his mouth, and she exploded.

  Her orgasm slammed into her like one of those new steam locomotives. She screamed out her pleasure, a litany of Wolf’s and Linc’s names, as her body gripped and released them over and over. Had they not been holding her up, she was sure she would have melted into the mattress from pure bliss.

  The two men continued pumping into her, working their cocks in a delicious rhythm that pushed her towards yet another climax. This time, the two of them were with her as they all crested the peak. The three of them came together, their shouts of pleasure mingled in a melody of satisfaction. Sated and beyond exhausted, she let sleep claim her before she’d even touched the mattress.

  Chapter 3

  Wolf sat alone, watching Julia sleep. Linc had slipped away after they’d laid her down. Wolf had remained to see that she was cared for and taken home safely. He also wanted a private word with her. His head spun with questions. Too many questions.

  Why had she auctioned herself off? Why risk such a scandal for a pleasure that could have been arranged in a much more discreet fashion? What had she been doing since her husband died?

  His stomach cramped as yet another thought occurred to him, even as he discarded it. Of course she hadn’t remarried. She wasn’t the kind of woman who would be at The Market if she had.

  He cursed himself for a fool for getting involved with her once more, and then stood. Restlessness drove him to move around the room. Certainly, he had failed her long ago. But hadn’t she failed him as well? Never had she sought him out or tried to discover what had happened that night. Never had she fought for what he’d believed they’d shared. His gut twisted as he unnecessarily straightened a picture on the wall.

  It occurred to him that there was every possibility he had been a fool to believe she’d actually loved him once. His father had always been cold and remote, and had never showed him the least bit of affection—which of course made sense, knowing what he did about his own parentage.

  And his mother? Well, she could barely look at him, let alone show love or affection.

  Moving on from the picture, he headed toward the ever-present crystal decanters and glassware. His nerves were strung tight. Too tight. He needed a drink, and it didn’t matter what time of the morning it was, though he was sure it was still dark out.

  And in the ten years since he’d walked away from her? He’d avoided debutantes and other marriage-seeking women. His was a life spent sans female companionship, but for his time spent at The Market. He poured a finger of whisky and slugged it in a single swallow. The alcohol burned through his gut, replacing the tightness with a pleasurable warmth that eased his tension, if only for the next little while.

  Without question, his bachelorhood was a state of his own design, but even considering that circumstance, no woman ever seemed totally enamored of him. Not one looked at him with softness or desire beyond the physical. It seemed each of his friends, however, had found themselves the object of a female’s fancy at one time or another, but never him.

  Was he so unworthy?

  Julia moved on the bed then, rolling and shifting until the covers slipped down, exposing her breasts. For the hundredth time, he crossed to her and pulled the covers back up to shield her modesty, and then sat back down. Not that she’d been concerned about modesty when she’d paraded before a room full of tongue-wagging lords, or later, when she’d been pressed between him and Linc, with their cocks buried deep inside her body.

  She moaned in her sleep, mumbling something.

  Wolf stilled.

  Then she rolled again, tangling the covers around her legs. She whimpered in her sleep and cried out. “No! Please, don’t…”

  Wolf was about to cross the room and wake her from whatever nightmare had her in its grip, but she sat up with a gasp. Wide green eyes that a man could get lost in darted about the room. Fear had her face pinched up as she gripped the sheet to her chest.

  He sat forward from the shadows so she could see his face. “It’s just me.”

  Her shoulders sagged with what he assumed was relief.

  “I thought it was another dream.” Her bright green gaze bored into him with surprise and a touch of fear that dissipated the comforting heat in his belly. “But you’re truly here.”

  She dreamed of me?

  He rose from his chair again. “I am.”

  He watched her closely and tried to ignore the knots that had reshaped in his gut.

  What would she do next? Would she be embarrassed as her memory returned? Would she claim he’d ruined her? Or perhaps she would merely slink away in embarrassment? Many women did the latter, preferring to pretend that nothing had occurred.

  “And Linc?”

  She looked around the room for his friend and fellow Lustful Lord.

  He waved toward the door. “He left a few hours ago. Was it a dream or a nightmare?”

  She sat there a moment, letting her eyes close as she appeared to gather herself. The silence stretched out for four or five heartbeats as he stood there, and then one more before she opened her eyes again. She seemed unsure for a moment, but then she rose from the bed and let the sheet fall from her nudity.

  Would she answer him?

  “I see. Well, thank you both for a perfectly wonderful evening.”

  It seemed she was choosing to ignore his question.

  Wolf watched in shock as she strode about the room, calmly collecting her clothes. She tugged on her skirt and tied the ribbons. Then she pulled on her bodice, but was unable to refasten it herself. After a brief struggle, she gave up and searched for the next piece of her clothing.

  He stood there stunned, ever the unsure one—though he was certain he hid it well most of the time. “That’s it? A simple thank you, without so much as a by-your-leave?”

  She stopped tying her scarf around her hips and stared at him. “What more did you want?”

  Confusion made his head hurt, or conceivably it was the multiple drinks he’d consumed as she slept. “An explanation?”

  Her green eyes narrowed. “What kind of explanation?”

  Frustration, doubt, and possibly some long-misplaced anger finally broke free in him. “What was this? Why did you auction yourself off tonight? Why put on such a scandalous display?”

  Where have you been for the last ten years?

  He just managed to hold the last question back.

  “This was exactly what it was billed as: one night with me. No more, no less. As for the rest, I do not owe you the least explanation.”

  She resumed tying her scarf and all but dismissed him.

  He stalked across the room, his roiling emotions propelling him toward her. “Jules, I am not just some random lord who won you in an auction. I was your fiancé, your friend,
and once upon a time, the man who loved you.”

  Her emerald eyes grew hard as the jewels they reminded him of. “You were the man who had sworn to protect me, who swore that he loved me, and who ultimately deserted me when I needed you most. You are the man who taught me that love does not, in fact, conquer all. I assure you, I owe you nothing, my lord.”

  Her words were like a spear straight through his heart. The truth often cut deeply, and there was no doubt in his mind she spoke the truth. He drew a deep breath through his nose, letting his eyes close as he steeled himself against the pain. “You’re right, of course. But please, let me help you now. Give me a chance to make reparations for our past. I can’t help but believe you are in some kind of trouble.”

  Pain softened the hardness of her gaze, but she remained stubbornly silent. With a shake of her head, she donned her slippers and grabbed her belt from the floor. “I’m sorry, Lord Wolfington. I’m afraid there is nothing more you can do. There is nothing I need from you, not even a carriage ride home. Your bidding on me, and following through on the inherent promise of winning me, shall have to suffice.”

  Helpless to make her do as he wished, he watched as she squared her shoulders and walked to the door of the room. She stopped and turned to look at him. “Goodbye, my lord.”

  And then she slipped from the room, leaving him utterly alone and lost. His gut screamed that she needed help. That she needed him. But the headstrong woman refused to ask for his help. Of course, considering his history of failing her, he could understand her reluctance. Possibly even accept it, if only he hadn’t touched her again. Felt her quiver in pleasure.

  If he had never watched her come apart in his arms, then maybe he could have walked away and taken her at her word.

  But now? After their night together, even with Linc sharing the experience?

  Never.

  He would never abandon her again, never let his own shame be more important than the woman he loved. And the hard, ugly truth was that he had loved Julia Fairchild. For the last ten years, he had continued to love Lady Wallthorpe. And if she had married again, unbeknownst to him, he would continue to love her.

  All of which meant he could not stay out of whatever trouble she was dealing with now. He would simply have to take action and dig until he uncovered the darkness that troubled her. Jules deserved a knight in shining armor, and this time, he was determined to be it.

  Wolf wearily strode from The Market and headed home, since there was little he could do for her at the moment. However, one thing he would do was closely shadow Jules in Society. He was certain something would eventually point him in the right direction. All he needed was a little patience.

  Chapter 4

  Julia and her sister, Rosalind, stood in the home of Lady Swinton, tucked into a corner of the main salon. Julia wanted to curse as the front door opened again, admitting yet another guest. By her count, her mother’s blithe assurance that Lady Swinton was hosting a small, intimate gathering now stood at a total of twenty-five guests.

  That did not include herself, Rosalind, or her parents. She sighed.

  Ros’ brow creased in concern. “Julia? Are you feeling well?”

  Julia tried to muster a smile for her sister, but as she stared at the room full of people, she couldn’t help but wonder how many of the men might have been in attendance at her auction at The Market. It was, of course, too late to undo what had been done, but she had planned to more or less retire from Society after her little display. After all, she’d needed a scandal to protect herself, but she hadn’t actually wanted one.

  She hadn’t wanted to be the subject of wagging tongues throughout London’s salons and ballrooms. But she hadn’t had another choice. Had she?

  Wolf’s handsome face came to mind then, his chiseled features which to some would look austere, even forbidding. But to her merely appeared finely honed, if not resolute. He was, by her account, a beautiful man.

  “Oh, look!” Ros patted her arm and smiled. “A friendly face I have not seen in ages.”

  It was as though Julia had conjured the man. The crowd had parted to reveal Wolf in all his evening finery. Her well-intentioned sister immediately lifted her hand and waved from across the room to gain his attention.

  Julia’s corset—despite being loosely laced, as a private rebellion against Society’s strictures—suddenly squeezed like a vise around her ribs. Her breathing felt restricted as sweat trickled down her spine. Somehow, she had been less disturbed facing him in her flimsy outfit of a few nights ago than she was in full London ladies’ armor. Her stomach flipped as he presented a rare smile to Ros and strode across the room.

  “Mrs. Smith!” he exclaimed, as he took her sister’s hand and gallantly bent over to kiss the gloved appendage.

  Ros grinned at their one-time playmate. “Lord Wolfington, I wasn’t sure you would remember me. It has been many years since last we spoke.”

  His face took on a pained expression. “You wound me, madam. How could I ever forget such adventures as we three had?” He then turned to Julia, and with an aplomb she could not credit, greeted her as though she had not romped in the bed with him and one of his friends only a few nights earlier. “Lady Wallthorpe, it is a pleasure to see you again as well.”

  Unable to be rude in such a public place, she allowed him to take her hand. “And you, my lord.”

  “You must be the loveliest ladies in attendance this evening.”

  Wolf’s smile had taken on a predatory quality that made Julia think of the animal for which he was named.

  Ros smiled at him before she shot a small glare at Julia. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Julia refused to encourage the man, but her sister could do as she liked—mostly because Ros was safe as cotton-packed china when it came to Wolf. He’d always seen her as a friend, and even a little sister. As for Julia, she had crossed into much murkier territory: that of friend, former fiancée, and now lover.

  Ros being Ros, she launched into polite conversation with all of the enthusiasm that should have been beaten out of her first by life as a soldier’s wife, and now that of a widow. However, her sunny disposition and insatiable curiosity seemed to overcome any such trials and tribulations thrown her way. “I’m afraid we missed the sporting season, having only just returned from being abroad. How was the grouse hunting this year?”

  “It was rather tepid, I’d say. Perchance I found it so because the company with which I fell in with was also tepid? I suspect had I had you two for company, traipsing across the fields might have been far more stimulating.”

  Wolf winked at Ros.

  “Do behave, my lord. What would people think should they hear you say such things?” Ros chastised him, laughing all the while.

  Julia chose to remain aloof in hopes her erstwhile lover would depart their company. However, she soon realized she had a much bigger issue when she spotted Lord Wallthorpe—her stepson, not her dead husband—waltzing through Lady Swinton’s dinner party as though he were the catch of the season. Cringing deeper into the corner in hopes she might remain unseen, she held her breath and waited for him to pass their little trio.

  Unfortunately, her attempt to go unnoticed by one man merely drew the attention of the other.

  Wolf eyed her quietly, and then glanced about the room. “Is there someone you wish to avoid besides me, Lady Wallthorpe?”

  His question drew her sister’s inquisitive gaze her way, and had her cursing him under her breath. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Wolf let one brow lift, silently calling her out for her blatant lie.

  She sighed and pressed her fingers to her temple. “I believe I need some air. Please excuse me.”

  And with that, she slipped away and walked swiftly around the crowd until she made her way to the Swintons’ patio and garden. It was a lovely spot, if a trifle cold, with all the snow on the ground. But she needed a moment away from the unexpected crowd, and particularly the men who could not restrain their unw
anted attentions.

  What with the cold, she could not stand outside all night, so eventually she returned to the main hall of the house, just off the salon. She was about to go in search of her sister when a masculine voice she had hoped to avoid altogether stopped her progress.

  “If it isn’t my dear sweet stepmother.”

  She repressed the groan that crept up her throat and turned to face him. “Lord Wallthorpe, I did not realize you were acquainted with the Swintons.”

  He offered his most charming smile. However, the lack of sincerity was as obvious as his flat brown gaze. She had seen many a man with light brown hair and dark brown eyes who were quite handsome. The problem with her stepson was that he was fouled on the inside, and that ugliness shone through to anyone who bothered to look properly.

  “I have come to know Lord Swinton quite well since I took my father’s seat in parliament. Had you returned to the bosom of your family after his death, you might be more aware of who I am acquainted with.” He sighed softly. “As I told you when we last spoke upon your return, your family has missed you these many years. You are always welcome at Wallthorpe House.”

  Julia’s spine stiffened at the reminder of their previous conversation. “And as I told you, while I appreciate the offer, I have lived as I please these many years. I find keeping my own household suits me.”

  He closed the short distance between them, leaning in close to her as he sneered. “And am I to assume auctioning off your body for the use of the highest bidder is what pleases you? Possibly I was wrong in offering you my affection when last we spoke. It seems my wallet would have been more welcome.”

  She inhaled sharply, though clearly, her plan was working. “How I choose to conduct my affairs is none of your concern. If you will excuse me.”

  She turned to go, but found his hand on her forearm, gripping it tightly. When she made to jerk free, he tightened his hold to the point she was sure he would leave bruises. Then he dragged her into a nearby study off the main hall and pressed her against a wall.