The Viscount Always Knocks Twice by Grace Callaway

Chapter Forty

Ten days later

Filled with triumph, Richard swept his new wife into his arms. With the skirts of her lemon yellow travelling dress billowing over his arm, he carried her over the threshold. Complements of the Tremonts, their bridal bower was the finest suite at Mivart’s, a grand London hotel. The lavish room was done up in shades of ivory and gold and boasted separate sitting and bathing rooms attached to the main boudoir.

“This suite is the utmost, isn’t it?” Violet said gleefully.

Captivated by her glowing eyes, he said huskily, “Aye. The utmost.”

Setting her gently down on her feet, he watched with amusement as she tossed off her bonnet and gloves and scampered through the rooms like a curious kitten. Her explorations were shared with him via her adorably scattered commentary.

“… oh look, they’ve left us a bottle of champagne… by Golly, you ought to see the bathing tub, it’s enormous… butter and jam, the bed is the largest I’ve ever seen…”

Her last comment got his attention. Grabbing the bottle of champagne and two flutes, he went into the bedchamber… and stopped short at the sight of Violet on her back on the cream-colored counterpane. Her arms and legs were stretched out as if she were lying on a bed of snow, making a snow angel. She was grinning up at the canopy.

Joy punctured his chest. Standing in the doorway watching his wife at play, he vowed to protect her youthful exuberance for as long as he lived. Then she leaned up on her elbows, and the flirtatious warmth in her tawny eyes turned his thoughts from her adorable qualities to her womanly ones. Her lithe form and gorgeous face made his blood thrum, beckoning him like a fever dream.

But he didn’t want to rush things. This was their wedding night; he wanted to make it special for her. And if the fact that she was a virgin made him just the slightest bit uneasy, he reasoned that it was only natural. For tonight was to be a first for him as well: he’d never taken a lady’s innocence before.

Popping the cork of the champagne (and trying to push a related image out of his mind), he poured two flutes of the bubbly golden liquid and brought them over to the bed. He handed Violet one and sat next to her on the mattress.

He tapped his glass to hers. “Cheers, lass.”

“Cheers.” Her eyes out-sparkled the champagne.

For a few moments, they drank in companionable silence.

“Did you enjoy the wedding?” he said.

As McLeod had predicted, they’d wed by special license, the small ceremony taking place at the Strathavens’ townhouse. It hadn’t been a big to-do; they’d only invited her family, Wick, and a few close friends to share in the special occasion. Since all Richard had wanted was to make Violet his, he was well satisfied with the wedding. But was she similarly so?

“It was first-rate,” she said happily. “Everything from the ceremony to luncheon to the tossing of the bouquet.”

“Tell me the truth: were you aiming for Miss Billings?” he asked.

“It was the least that I could do.” Violet’s eyes grew shadowed. “But I’m worried about her… and Wick, too.”

Richard shared her concerns. Three days ago, Wick had brought news that he’d negotiated a new arrangement with Garrity: he would be working off his debt to the usurer. He’d refused to elaborate further, and to Richard’s protests he’d replied firmly, “For once in my life, I’m going to take responsibility for my actions. I have a chance to start afresh, and I’m taking it. I hope you’ll support me, brother.”

What could Richard say to that? His younger brother was finally growing up. He had to trust Wick to find his own way.

As for Miss Billings…

“Do you really think that she persuaded Garrity to give Wick a job?” he said.

Because as surprised as he was at Wick’s newfound maturity, he was even more surprised that Garrity had agreed to new terms. The moneylender wasn’t known for having changes of heart—if indeed the man even possessed that particular organ.

“I don’t know. Gabby’s being a clam about it.” Vi nibbled on her lip. “And when Gabby doesn’t talk, then one truly has cause for worry.”

Richard got rid of their glasses and pulled her into his lap. “We’ll be there for Wick and Miss Billings if they need us,” he said simply. “In the interim, we’ll have to trust that they will find their own happiness. As we have.”

“Yes.” The shadows lifted; she smiled at him. “What did you think of Harry?”

Richard had got on with Harry Kent immediately. The lad knew a thing or two about sports… even if he tended to view everything through the lens of science. During the wedding luncheon, Harry had expounded upon the importance of considering force, acceleration, and momentum in improving one’s punch in the boxing ring. It had been fascinating, a conversation unlike any Richard had had before.

“I like Harry. And your entire family.” Richard cleared his throat. “They are very generous.”

In truth, their generosity had astonished and humbled him. The dowry put together by her family had been far more than he’d anticipated, enough for him to get his estate truly back on its feet. What was more, Strathaven had offered to stake Richard’s breeding program for a share of future profits.

Richard wasn’t used to getting help. As much as he appreciated it, he also felt… uncomfortable.

“It’s not charity, you know.” As ever, Violet was able to read his thoughts. “Think of it as an investment. My family knows, as I do, that you’re going to make a smashing success of things.”

God, her faith in him… he’d never known anything sweeter.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he marveled.

She looped her arms around his neck. “You didn’t let a trifle like a dip in a fountain dissuade you from courting me?”

“Minx.”

Unable to resist any longer, he kissed her. The simmering hunger between them boiled over, their lips and tongues melding, their mouths feasting. She tasted of crisp champagne and warm woman, a mix that made him feel drunk with desire. Before he knew it, his hands were tearing furiously at her garments, and hers were just as eager upon his.

When there was nothing between them, he lay her down and gazed at her. She was his Aglaea: the embodiment of grace and sensual vitality. Her glossy tresses framed her vivid face, a blush spreading like a sunset over her flawless skin. Her breasts surged temptingly, the tips stiff and needy. As her slender limbs moved restlessly against the counterpane, he glimpsed the sheen of dew on her pussy and swallowed.

Her charms… too innumerable to count.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

“I was about to say the same thing.”

His chest burgeoned at the admiration in her gaze.

“I could look at you day and night,” he returned.

“Gadzooks, you’re not actually planning on doing that, are you?” Her eyes widened. “You know how much I hate waiting.”

Her unmaidenly response made him laugh. “Far be it for me to make a lady wait, then.”

He palmed one firm breast, his thumb skating across the rosy tip, and her bottom lip caught beneath her teeth. He swooped down to suckle her sweet tits, lured back and forth between the lovely swells. He took his time, laving her nipples, licking and teasing them until they were glistening and swollen and she was panting his name.

Only then did he move lower, trailing kisses down the smooth valley between her ribs. She squirmed and giggled when his tongue dipped into her belly button. Settling himself between her thighs, he pushed them farther apart. He inhaled the scent of her arousal, his erection jerking against his thigh.

Her legs twitched bashfully against his palms.

“Spread wider for me,” he coaxed. “That’s it, love, show me your pussy. No reason to hide such a pretty part of you, is there?” He petted her silky curls, then reverently parted her folds. “By Jove, you’re drenched for me.”

“Richard, you’re driving me mad,” she gasped. “Do something.”

“Do you have anything particular in mind?”

Her hips lifted in a silent plea, and his mouth watered.

“God, yes,” he said thickly.

~~~

Violet cried out as the relentless sensual assault of Richard’s mouth brought her to a third peak. His kiss had been so hot, the wicked words he’d muttered even hotter. “Christ, I love licking your pussy. Tonguing your pearl. Come for me, give me more of your sweet cream…”

Since she’d done so—thrice—she judged they were ready to move onto other things. She wasn’t afraid of what was to come. She wanted it. Wanted to be as close to the man she loved as possible.

“Richard,” she said.

He raised his head. His strong jaw glistened with her juices, and his eyes were glazed.

“Come to me,” she whispered.

His gaze flared, and then he surged up her body, taking her mouth in a sinfully erotic kiss. She felt the heavy thrust of his cock against her belly and shivered with anticipation.

“Are you frightened, love?” he murmured.

His loving concern undid her even more.

She cupped his jaw with both hands. “No, Richard. I want to be yours. Now.”

“You are, Violet.” He leveraged himself over her, and her hands latched onto the powerfully flexing muscles of his shoulders. When he notched his cock to her opening, moistening the blunt tip in her slick folds, they both moaned. “By God, you are.”

He entered her slowly, and she felt herself stretching around him, tightness giving way to an exhilarating sensation of fullness. No pain… only wholeness. Oneness. He was so snugly wedged that she fancied she could feel each vein and ridge of his shaft, each delicious pulse. When he butted against some exquisite spot inside, she jolted.

“Am I hurting you?” He froze, his chest and neck taut with tension.

“No, no, keep going…”

He slid in deeper and deeper, and, inch by inch, he filled her body and her heart to overflowing. When he was fully seated inside her, she saw him looking intently at their joined bodies. His gaze lifted to hers, and the sheen in those scorched-earth eyes halted her breath.

In a gravelly voice, he said, “You’re mine, Violet. As I am yours. Forever.”

A vow. As deep and elemental as his presence inside her.

“Forever,” she whispered. “I love you, Richard.”

“I love you, lass.”

He leaned down to kiss her and, at the same time, began to move. Slow, steady thrusts that awakened her to a new and intriguing pleasure. Her body moved instinctively to explore this new delight, her hips finding a rhythm to match his. All the while, their eyes remained open, their gazes connected, nothing hidden. This bold sharing intensified each movement of their heaving bodies.

The pace of his loving increased, his cock drilling deeper and deeper. Soon her hips were rocking from the force of his thrusts, and, to hold on, she wrapped her legs around his lean waist. The new position made each lunge of his iron-hard shaft graze her throbbing peak, and she moaned, tipping her pelvis back further, wanting more of that sweet friction. Suddenly, a dam burst inside her, convulsions rippling from her core, stronger than any she’d felt before.

“Lass, you’re loving me so well,” he groaned. “Can’t stop, I’m going to spend so hard for you…”

A shudder passed through his large frame, his face contorting. He gave one last desperate surge, plunging so deep that he nudged her womb. A harsh groan tore from his chest as he detonated inside her, flooding her with pulse after pulse of his hot essence. Even after he was done, he continued thrusting slowly into their mingled warmth as if he couldn’t get enough.

Staring up into her husband’s sated face, she realized that she’d never felt so connected to another. So safe and loved. And they had a lifetime of this ahead of them…

He kissed her forehead tenderly. “What are you thinking, my love?”

Grinning, she told him the truth. “That I just found my new favorite sport.”

His laughter filled the room and her heart.