His Scandalous Viscountess (Lustful Lords Series Book 3)

by Sorcha Mowbray

Guilt quickly replaced his smile, as he laid down between her legs and spread her wide open. His tongue swirled around her hole and then up over her clit, before swooping back down and driving inside her. Her hips bucked off the bed as she sank her hands into his hair. He continued to hold her thighs open, effectively pinning her hips as he stabbed his tongue deep into her, only to drag it up over her nub, again and again. She moaned as the pressure grew to unbearable levels, and then suddenly he sucked her clit into his mouth and shoved two fingers inside her and she exploded.

  Her orgasm rushed in like a tidal wave, slamming into her with such force that the breath was knocked from her lungs, making it impossible to cry out. But the bliss continued as he sucked and stroked her pussy. Finally drawing breath again, she was woozy from such intense pleasure when she suddenly realized he was inside her.

  Wolf sank into her welcoming heat and tight grip, shuddering as he bottomed out. His cock ached with the need to fill her, even after having already come once. He could not have explained his earlier actions. It certainly had not been planned, but somehow, in that moment, with her lips wrapped around his cock, he had needed to stake his claim.

  To mark her in the most primeval fashion.

  And now, even as he sank into her pussy, it still didn’t feel like enough. He needed to own her. To own her pleasure, and her heart. And—as uncomfortable as it was to admit—to own her soul. He wouldn’t take less. Couldn’t. So he pounded into her as a reminder to them both.

  The primitive impulse remained strong enough that he pulled out and flipped her over onto her hands and knees. He eyed the tight pinch of her rear entrance, remembering how exquisite it had been to fuck her there while Linc had filled her pussy. He’d have her there again, but right now, he needed to fuck her hard. So he sank into her wet heat and relished her cry of pleasure.

  He pulled out until just the tip remained, and then sank deep once more. Again, and again, he shoved inside her until his thighs slapped against hers and his balls smacked her clit with each surge. Then she was pushing back into his thrusts, meeting him stroke for stroke as they both raced headlong into another wave of bliss. Determined to get her there again, he reached down and stroked her swollen flesh, finding her nub and pinching it.

  Her body squeezed down on his cock as they kept moving, but she cried out. “Yes! Oh God, Wolf. Yes!” Her voice was hoarse, raspy with the pleasure he was delivering.

  Her passion-spent cries sent him over the edge, and he slammed into her once. Twice, three times, and then came, pumping everything he had deep inside her. His desire, his need, and his love.

  Slumping over her, his body slick with sweat, he struggled to catch his breath. She sank down, carrying both of them to the mattress. As they landed, he rolled off her, not wishing to crush her after such an intense fucking. She was amazing, and he had to find a way to show her how much he appreciated that.

  Chapter 22

  Julia and her sister were safely ensconced back in their home, with each of the Lustful Lords taking a turn acting as their guard, although Flint was almost always there. Wolf would be joining him shortly, but first he had a meeting to keep with his investigator. The man had sent a note around that he had information to share at Wolf’s earliest convenience. So he’d dashed home to clean up after spending the night at Jules’ home. The Lustful Lords had all mentioned receiving looks as they came and went at all hours, but the situation was unavoidable for the moment. He hoped this meeting with his man of inquiry would release the group from their guard duty.

  Refreshed, he’d just settled behind his desk when his butler, Gordon—husband to the ever-efficient Mrs. Gordon—knocked and entered.

  “My lord, there is a gentleman here to see you.”

  “Send him in, please.”

  Wolf refrained from rushing out to meet the man, despite the urge to hurry things along. Not only did he want to know what he had discovered, but he couldn’t stifle the need to return to Jules so he could ensure she was safe. It seemed without her where he could see her, he constantly worried about her wellbeing.

  The nondescript man shook his hand, and then they sat down. Getting right down to business, he handed over a folio. “The report contains all the details of the Marquess of Wallthorpe’s current financial situation. You will see that he is deeply in debt. In fact, he is in jeopardy of losing his family seat.”

  The man paused, giving Wolf a moment to peruse the specifics.

  “While that would not strip him of his title, as I am sure you are aware, there is a certain amount of embarrassment that would accompany such an event. In fact, I would think he might find it nearly impossible to marry well if his situation was discovered. He has gone to great lengths to hide the state of his affairs. I am also concerned about a letter I came across from his father.”

  Wolf frowned. “Go on.”

  “It seems that part of the reason his aged father took his bride off on a world tour was because his son had an unhealthy fixation with her. The father feared his son might attempt to lure his new wife astray—or worse.” The man shook his head. “You fancy types are an odd lot.”

  Wolf sighed. Wonderful. Wallthorpe was desperate and obsessed. Not a comforting combination. “And what have you found out about the sheik?”

  “He was certainly more difficult to trace, but I did find that he will be departing London in three days’ time. His traveling party is in an uproar, since his first wife—another strange lot, I might add—seems to have acquired some Western habits. She has taken to wearing ladies’ gowns and fancying herself up, much to the man’s consternation. According to the maids, he has been steaming mad and is dragging her home by her hair. By all accounts, she is fighting him every step of the way.”

  That bit of news made Wolf smile. The sheikh was clearly far too occupied to be attempting to abduct Julia now. “Anything else of interest? Any more visits to Lucifer’s by Lady Wallthorpe, or other men who may be of concern?”

  “No, my lord. It seems she has not been back to Lucifer’s, nor are there other admirers lurking in the background.”

  Wolf nodded, satisfied. “Thank you. You’ve done excellent work.”

  “Always a pleasure, my lord. You can find my bill for services under the report.” The man stood. “I’ll bid you a good day.”

  Wolf stood as well. “Good day to you.”

  And then the man departed, leaving Wolf to sort out his next steps. He knew that the only way to protect Jules was to marry her. Wallthorpe was many things, but as of yet, he’d not proven to be a killer. If she was married, the man would find another solution to his problem…or not.

  For once, Wolf wished he could go to his father for assistance. With his help, he could have easily offered Wallthorpe enough money to simply go away. But that was not a practical plan, as he was painfully aware of his father’s stance on helping him in any capacity. Upon graduation from school, he’d received a courtesy title to offer legitimacy and three thousand pounds. His father then informed him that he was to make do on his own. His obligation had been fulfilled.

  It had been a decade since he and his father had said more than a polite hello when they met unexpectedly in public. Other than that, he ensured he visited his mother when he knew his father would be unavailable or out of the house. The arrangement seemed to work well for everyone.

  That said, he was still left with his original problem. How did he convince Jules that marrying him was not just the better option, but the only option? He was too practical to rely on love to sway her. That was too risky a proposition. No, he supposed he’d have to lay the facts out for her, and let her see that marriage was the only way to ensure her safety.

  He shuffled through the papers included in the report, and was pleased to find a handwritten copy of the letter the investigator had mentioned. He read through it once himself.

  Herbert,

  Considering the circumstances I so recently ascertained, in particular your unhealthy fixation with my new bride, I have deci
ded to extend my honeymoon.

  You should know I have sealed up the entrances to the hidey-holes you discovered, so there will be no further opportunities to spy on her. I can also assure you that the letter you recently sent professing your undying love has not been delivered, and is, in fact, a pile of ashes in my fireplace as I write this letter. It is for your own good that I have married this woman. She was not suitable to bear the future of our line. She is a wild girl with wild ways, and it will be all that I can manage at this late hour of life to bring her to heel.

  It is my great hope that while we are away, you will find your interests drawn to new quarters. I am an aging man. You will one day be the Marquess of Wallthorpe and you will require a poised and elegant wife at your side to bear our next generation. It is your duty to the family name to carry on the line, and I shall brook no more of this business with my wife.

  —Wallthorpe

  It took every ounce of self-control Wolf possessed not to burn the offensive missive. It explained much of the insanity that had occurred a decade ago, and some of the more current activity. But knowing Julia would need to see the words for herself, he tucked the page back into the report and shuffled through the remainder of the notes. Most of them documented a series of poor decisions on the younger Wallthorpe’s part, since his father had passed.

  The man had invested in some harebrained scheme to mine gold from the Americas. It would seem the man who had convinced Wallthorpe to give him a large sum of money had disappeared en route. Whether that was due to an unfortunate accident or a carefully laid plan didn’t really matter, as the result was the same in the end. Wallthorpe was out nearly one hundred thousand pounds. Wolf’s stomach lurched at the exorbitant sum.

  Without further delay, he knew it was time to discuss his findings with Jules and get her to see reason. They must marry immediately, in order to ensure her safety.

  Julia stared out the window of the hackney, watching as London’s denizens spilled into the gaslit streets. Wallthorpe was becoming a rather greater pain in her backside than she had anticipated. Nothing she’d tried so far had worked to deter him, which worried her. Soon she would have only one option left, and while there were parts of the solution she wouldn’t mind, she struggled with the notion of shackling herself to another man—even one so handsome as Wolf. Even one she called a friend.

  With a sigh, she clenched the note in her hand tighter and prayed the summons would lead to good news. After all, how often did one receive a note, however tersely worded, from the notorious Frank Lucifer?

  I have news of your unwanted suitor.

  —Lucifer

  With a kernel of hope lodged in her chest, and a healthy dose of dread, she had slipped down the back stairs and out into the night without alerting either Ros or one of their ever-present guards. This time it was Flint. If she weren’t so busy with her own concerns, she would have sworn that those two were falling in love. But she refused to label whatever was occurring between them until she had some unfettered time to observe them more closely. For the moment, she had other things on her mind.

  The cab stopped before the well-lit gambling hell, letting her clamber out onto the street and pay her fare.

  The driver took the money, tipped his hat, and hesitated. “Ma’am, are ye sure this is a place you ought to be?”

  She cast him a soft smile. He might be a rough man, but he clearly had a gentleman’s heart. “Quite sure. I have business inside, and friends who will ensure my safety.”

  “Very well.”

  He tipped his hat once more and gave a shake of the reins. The cab pulled slowly away, leaving her to walk into Lucifer’s all on her own. It was certainly not the first time she’d done so, though tonight she’d come in slightly more discreet garb. After all, she wasn’t looking to stir up scandal any longer.

  Too bad fate and the wagging tongues of London hadn’t quite caught on yet.

  Stepping inside the building, she nodded at the big brute who seemed to always lurk near the door. She thought his name was Gordie, but couldn’t be sure. “Excuse me, could you please tell Mr. Lucifer that Lady Wallthorpe is here to see him.”

  “Come.”

  The staccato, single-word command prompted her to do as directed. She followed him up the stairs and along the open gallery that sat above the frenzied action below. It was a long—rather brisk—walk to the double doors at the far end. Then the giant with the long legs stopped and opened the doors, admitting her to what she assumed was Mr. Lucifer’s inner sanctum.

  She took a few steps inside, and then the doors closed behind her, leaving her to face the darkly handsome man who currently lounged behind his desk. A gentleman would have stood as soon as she entered, but she needed to remember that he was no gentleman, even if he could put on airs.

  He slowly rose and came around the desk. “Thank you for coming, Lady Wallthorpe.”

  “Yes, well, you did have a rather intriguing hook. Though you could have simply sent the information in the missive.”

  She eyed him warily. It was obvious he wanted something in exchange for the tidbit he’d offered, but the question was what? Money? Her body? She couldn’t imagine what else he might desire, and so she braced herself for the coming conversation.

  He smiled as he bowed over her hand. Then he led her to one of the empty chairs facing his desk. “You are an intelligent woman, Lady Wallthorpe. Surely you can puzzle out why I did not do that.”

  “Quite so, Mr. Lucifer. Shall we get down to business then?” She kept her tone formal. She knew the man had found her attractive during her one and only previous visit to his establishment, so she opted to not be overly familiar. The last thing she needed was a third man who had it in his head to marry her.

  “Very well. I have information about your stepson that might be of interest to you.” He paused. “And for the right enticement, I am willing to provide the information to you.”

  Julia tamped down the growl that had steadily grown as the man spoke, despite her suspicion the conversation might take this kind of turn. Had she found him charming when she’d previously met him?

  “Mr. Lucifer, name your price, and I shall write a draft on my bank before I leave. I’d prefer not to sit here all night, bartering back and forth.”

  “Negotiating is half the fun of these transactions, my lady.” He grinned unrepentantly. “What if money is not what I seek in exchange for the information?”

  “My body is not for sale. I may not be a prude, but I do not use my desire as currency.” She glared at him, furious that he would ask such a thing…or at least intimate it.

  What is wrong with the men of London? Are they so deprived of sexual attention?

  “As intriguing as the idea of a night with you in my bed is, that is not what I seek.” He leaned forward. “I would like some information in return for mine.”

  Relief and confusion swirled through her. This was not at all what she had expected. “What could I possibly know that would be of value to you?”

  “I wish to know more of Lord Flintshire. If you’d answer a few questions for me, I shall gladly provide you the promised information.”

  If she weren’t mistaken, the man looked nervous. While seemingly lounging behind his desk, indifferent to her decision, there was still a tension to his body. A small tick near the back of his jaw was difficult to notice beneath his beard, but it was there. Whatever it was he wished to know was important to him—personally.

  “I am only newly acquainted with him, and I doubt I have much to share. But I shall share whatever I know.”

  Lucifer nodded, a crisp movement that revealed far more than she thought he’d prefer. “How would you describe his demeanor?”

  She paused for a moment, considering her recent interactions with the man. “He is a bit dark, and quite irreverent at times. But he is steady and dependable, and his sense of honor is stronger than most peers of the realm.”

  Lucifer smiled. “Do you like him?”

  Sh
e blinked. “Do I like him?”

  “Yes, do you like having him around, meeting him, chatting with him?”

  His dark eyes bore into her, as though seeking out every last detail he could unearth.

  “I don’t really speak to him, in particular. But I shall say my sister Ros seems to have a fondness for him. I often walk into a room and find them engaged in quiet conversation, though it usually ceases once they realize I am there.”

  Lucifer sat a moment and considered her response. “One last question. Do you trust him?”

  Julia answered without hesitation. “Implicitly.”

  Lucifer cocked his head. “Why?”

  “You said one last question.”

  She tried to hide her smile. It amused her that a simple, one-word answer did not satisfy him.

  He waved his hand in the air, as though swatting a fly. “The why was inherent in the original question. Your terse answer left me little choice but to articulate it.”

  She considered his question a moment. The truth of her answer rang through her in an unexpected peal, and had she not been sitting, it might have sent her to her knees. “I trust him because the two people I care most about in this world do. And in a moment when most men would have stepped back, he stepped forward and offered my sister the protection she needed. And he continues to provide her that shelter, even now. He may not embody the commonly accepted vision of a British hero, but somehow, he serves as my sister’s.”

  A strange look danced through Lucifer’s gaze as he stared at her. She might have labeled it jealousy, but he was far too practical a man to bother himself with such an emotion. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

  A knock on the office door shattered the moment.

  “Come in.” Lucifer beckoned, though he remained where he was.

  Curious about who might be joining them, she turned in her seat, peeking around the wingback-style chair. She gasped in surprise. “Wolf!”