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Wedded in Winter (The Wicked Winters Book 2) Page 12


  “You seem quite clean here as well,” he murmured, “but I fear the water is obstructing my view.”

  She swallowed. “Perhaps you will have to help me from my bath then, Mr. Hart.”

  “Perhaps.” His clever fingers worked over that tender bud once again, rotating with increasing pressure and pleasure. “Or perhaps not just yet.”

  Bea clasped his arm, part of her wanting to tear him away so he would have no choice but to carry her to the bed and make love to her. And yet, part of her wanting him to remain precisely where he was. The sensation was so exquisite as he stimulated her pearl and awoke the rest of her body.

  Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples tight. Her mouth throbbed with the remembrance of his kiss. Keeping his thumb upon her tender bud, he ran his fingers down her seam. One long digit penetrated her, sliding into her ready channel with ease.

  She jerked, bringing him deeper as she tightened around him.

  “Are you going to come for me, Mrs. Hart?” he asked with wicked intent.

  Bea would have answered, but her ability to speak coherently had fled. She was a quivering mass of need. And greed. All she could do was moan her delight and arch into his masterful touch. His thumb swirled over her. Harder. Faster.

  She released him and wrapped her arms around his neck, hauling his lips back to hers for another kiss. Their tongues met as he slid another finger inside her, and that quickly, she lost herself. Crying out into his mouth, she spent, shuddering as she gripped his fingers, riding him in the tub, her every sense heightened. She was suddenly oh-so-aware of the masculine scent of him, the slickness of his tongue against hers, the silken caress of the warm water over her hard nipples. The pleasure was so intense, it was almost violent. It shook her, stole her breath.

  And then, he was hauling her from the tub. Amazing her with his physical strength in much the same way he did with his emotional fortitude. She clung to him as he lifted her, dripping and sated, from the tub. In a few strides, he was lowering her reverently to the bed.

  She watched as he shucked his clothes with remarkable speed. Waistcoat, cravat, and shirt whisked away. Shoes, stockings, and last, breeches and smalls. Until he, too, was naked, joining her on the bed.

  Their bodies came together naturally. He settled between her thighs, his rigid cock pressed against her mound. They kissed hungrily, both of them beyond the point of words, desperate to become one. Bea did not think she would ever tire of the depth of her connection with this man. He was her other half. Her heart’s beat.

  He broke the seal of their lips and kissed his way down her throat. He found her swollen, sensitive breasts and suckled the tips before moving lower. Between her thighs. He spread her legs even wider with his flattened palms, and then he lowered his head, taking the already engorged bud of her sex into his mouth.

  He sucked hard, then used his teeth.

  The air rushed from her lungs. Her heart pounded. Licks of fire stole through her once more, along with the sweetest heat. After he had pleasured her in the tub, she was already on the edge of desire’s cliff. She had not far to fall. He flicked her pearl with his tongue, then sucked again. She came undone, splintering into a thousand shards of herself. Radiant light exploded, her body overcome by another intense wave of pleasure.

  Then, he was rising over her, his cock poised to enter. She tipped her hips in silent invitation, pleading with him for more. He gave her more. He gave her everything. One swift thrust, and he was fully sheathed, seated so deep within her, she could not stave off the fresh onslaught of blissful tremors.

  Their mouths fused once more, and she tasted not just herself on his lips, but the sweetness of their love, the union of their bodies. She clung to him as he began a rhythm that undid them both. When his body stiffened beneath her touch, she knew he was close. She rocked her body into his, bringing him deeper. As deep as he could get. And then she raked her nails down his back. He tore his lips from hers, throwing his head back, and came, filling her with the hot spurt of his seed.

  They stayed as they were, joined, wrapped up in each other. She held him to her as tightly as ever.

  “I love you, Merrick Hart,” she whispered reverently. “I always have.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I loved you before I even knew what love was, but you have shown me, Bea. Every day, in every way, you have shown me.”

  She smiled at him, framing his face with her hands. “What did I do to become so fortunate?”

  It was an echo of the words he had asked her not long ago.

  He smiled back at her. “You followed your heart, and it led you straight to me.”

  “Yes,” she agreed tenderly, “and thank heavens for that.”

  The End.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading Wedded in Winter! I hope you enjoyed this second book in my The Wicked Winters series and that Merrick and Bea’s story touched your heart!

  As always, please consider leaving an honest review of Wedded in Winter. Reviews are greatly appreciated! If you’d like to keep up to date with my latest releases and series news, sign up for my newsletter here or follow me on Amazon or BookBub. Join my reader’s group on Facebook for bonus content, early excerpts, giveaways, and more.

  If you’d like a preview of Wanton in Winter, Book Three in The Wicked Winters, featuring the ruined Miss Eugie Winter and the proper earl who loses his heart to her, do read on.

  Until next time,

  Scarlett

  Wanton in Winter

  By

  Scarlett Scott

  Cameron Blythe, the Earl of Hertford, is about to lose nearly everything he owns to creditors in the wake of his blackguard father’s death. The only way to stave off ruin is to find a wealthy wife, even if it means aligning himself with one of the infamous Winter sisters. Any of the chits will do. Except for Miss Eugenia Winter, that is, whose reputation has been tainted by scurrilous gossip.

  When Eugie spurned an odious, fortune-hunting suitor, the last thing she expected was for him to spread shocking lies about her. Determined to stop her beloved sisters from falling prey to a similar, painful fate, she will do anything to keep the penniless Earl of Hertford from making a match with one of them. Even if it means cornering him in a darkened winter’s garden and kissing him herself.

  But when one kiss turns into another, and then another, the strictly proper Cam cannot help himself from falling for the Winter with the most wicked reputation of all. And Eugie? Much to her dismay, she’s discovering the irresistible earl may be everything she has ever wanted. Does she dare trust her heart, or will the painful lessons of her past prove too impossible to overcome?

  Chapter One

  Oxfordshire, 1813

  “I feel like a damned Michaelmas goose,” Cameron Blythe, the Earl of Hertford, muttered, sotto voce.

  At his side, Rand, Viscount Aylesford, chuckled. “Perhaps you can convince one of the chits that marrying you will be good luck, much like eating the goose.”

  Cam surveyed the ballroom before them. Lit with at least a dozen chandeliers, it was a study in festive gaiety. Lady Emilia Winter and her husband Mr. Devereaux Winter were celebrating the pending Christmas season in a fashion befitting their tremendous wealth.

  And also befitting a man who had five unmarried sisters he needed to settle with husbands. Title hunters, all of them, Cam was sure.

  “Succumbing to the parson’s mousetrap is only one breed of luck, Aylesford, and it is decidedly not good,” he ventured, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

  “Truth, which is why I have no intention of doing it myself.” Aylesford brushed at the sleeve of his coat, affecting ennui as few others could. “Ingenious of you to suggest a false engagement. It should be just the thing to convince the dowager I have reformed my rakish ways.”

  Cam tried to envision the august dowager Duchess of Revelstoke uttering the word rakish and failed. “The dowager would refuse to lower herself by saying such a word on principle.”

  Ay
lesford sighed. “You are right, of course. Your indefatigable sense of propriety is why she loves you. Pity you could not have been born her grandson instead of I.”

  Though a longtime friend of Cam’s, Aylesford was undeniably a rakehell possessed of a reputation to compete with Beelzebub himself. “The notion of what is proper was beaten into me from an early age by my wastrel sire.”

  His tone was mild, but the sentiment behind it was decidedly not. His father had been a ruthless tyrant who enjoyed inflicting pain on his family almost as much as he enjoyed gambling. As it stood now, Cam would have preferred additional beatings to the financial wreckage he had inherited from the former earl.

  Creditors hounding him everywhere. Estates on the brink of ruin. A darling mother he could not bear to see tossed into the streets after all she had endured. There was only one solution to the endless list of his worries, and it was finding himself an heiress and making her his countess.

  With all haste.

  “Pity the old earl is dead,” Aylesford drawled. “Had I an inkling of what he was about, I would have delivered him the drubbing he deserved before he stuck his spoon in the wall. If anyone ought to have his resting place ransacked by grave robbers, it is your father.”

  Cam flinched, although it was true. “There was nothing to be done. The money was his to spend, the estates his to fleece as he liked. Just as my mother was his to beat until I was big enough to defend her.”

  “Any man who would beat a woman ought to be horsewhipped himself,” his friend said somberly. “One can only hope he is receiving his true reward for a life of inflicting misery on everyone he knew and is roasting in the fieriest coals of hell as we speak.”

  Talk of graves and the pits of hell were creating a decidedly dampening effect upon Cam’s desire to dance with a lady.

  “You are a grim one tonight, Aylesford,” he observed.

  The viscount grinned back at him, unrepentant. “I am all manner of things I ought not to be. But hopefully one of them is a man who is not being harangued by his dowager grandmother to wed. That she is withholding Tyre Abbey from me until I am betrothed is out of bounds.”

  Tyre Abbey was a wealthy estate in Scotland, belonging to the dowager in her own right. And though an understanding had always existed that Aylesford would one day take possession of the property, the dowager was wisely dangling it over her grandson’s head in an effort to get him to do what she wanted.

  “Nothing like familial bribery to warm the heart,” he quipped, for in truth, he did rather enjoy the dowager, if not her attempts to wreak havoc upon his friend’s bachelor ways.

  “You like the old bird better than anyone,” Aylesford said. “Do you think my sham betrothal strategy will work?”

  “As long as you can find the proper pretend-betrothed to agree to the farce, you ought to be able to buy yourself at least a year of freedom,” he reassured his friend. “Her Grace will be so pleased at the prospect of a reformed Aylesford, it will take her some time to realize the betrothal is becoming a lengthy one. I, on the other hand, will not be nearly as fortunate since my betrothal will necessarily be followed by the actual deed.”

  He suppressed a shiver at the thought of the manner in which he was being forced to sell himself. For Mother, he reminded himself. He would do anything for her, just as she had once protected him from the fists of his father.

  Aylesford sipped his punch, casting his eye about the lively gathering—presumably for his quarry. “Who shall I choose, I wonder? One of the Winters ought to do. Rumor has it Devereaux Winter is quite desperate to see them wed and off his hands, but the ladies are not as eager.”

  Cam’s gaze followed his friend’s to where the five Winter sisters had gathered, rather reminiscent of a battle formation. They were lovely, which somewhat aided in removing the stench of trade surrounding them.

  Their father had been a wealthy merchant, but their brother had turned their family fortune into an empire. Though they had been doing their utmost to buy entrée into society, it had only been Winter’s marriage to Lady Emilia King—coupled with the immense dowries each sister reportedly possessed—that made the thought of marrying them palatable for Cam.

  All of them except for the one with the bad reputation, that was.

  “Not the one in the red gown,” he said. “She possesses the worst reputation of the lot. Baron Cunningham claims she allowed him to anticipate the wedding night. When he discovered he was not her first conquest, he cried off immediately. The dowager will never accept her.”

  “Cunningham is an ass,” Aylesford observed thoughtfully. “And also a notorious liar.”

  Cam found his gaze lingering upon Miss Eugenia Winter. Her curves were lovingly revealed by the scarlet net evening dress. Embroidery around the décolletage emphasized her plump bosom, as if intentionally drawing the masculine eye to that wicked place. He could not deny the allure of her creamy breasts or the flare of her hips. Or her mouth, which seemed far too wide and lush even from across the room.

  Indeed, everything about her looked like an invitation to sin.

  Cam tore his stare from her and settled it back upon his friend. “Cunningham may be an ass and a liar, but all one needs to do is take a look at Miss Eugenia Winter to know she is every bit as immoral as her reputation suggests. Just look at her in that dress.”

  “I am looking,” Aylesford said on a grin. “I fail to see the issue with an immoral woman. I have kept company with—and heartily appreciated—legions of them.”

  Cam snorted. “I have no doubt of that. But you must keep in mind you are not seeking your next mistress, Aylesford. You are seeking a betrothed to keep the dragon dowager from breathing fire at you for the next year. She will not approve of that one’s reputation.”

  “She will not approve of any of them, truth be told.” Aylesford’s sigh was steeped in resentment. “But that is too bad. My odds are one in five. Any of them will do.”

  That was rather the attitude Cam had adopted in relation to the Winter sisters. His debt was colossal. Only a sickeningly wealthy bride would save him from ruin.

  Except for the red gown, he reminded himself. He would sooner be cast into penury than accept the tainted leavings of an oaf like Cunningham. Wealth and reasonable respectability. In that order.

  Want more? Get Wanton in Winter here!

  Don’t miss Scarlett’s other romances!

  (Listed by Series)

  Complete Book List

  HISTORICAL ROMANCE

  Heart’s Temptation

  A Mad Passion (Book One)

  Rebel Love (Book Two)

  Reckless Need (Book Three)

  Sweet Scandal (Book Four)

  Restless Rake (Book Five)

  Darling Duke (Book Six)

  The Night Before Scandal (Book Seven)

  Wicked Husbands

  Her Errant Earl (Book One)

  Her Lovestruck Lord (Book Two)

  Her Reformed Rake (Book Three)

  Her Deceptive Duke (Book Four)

  Her Missing Marquess (Book Five)

  League of Dukes

  Nobody’s Duke (Book One)

  Heartless Duke (Book Two)

  Dangerous Duke (Book Three)

  Shameless Duke (Book Four)

  Scandalous Duke (Book Five)

  Fearless Duke (Book Six)

  Sins and Scoundrels

  Duke of Depravity (Book One)

  Prince of Persuasion (Book Two)

  Marquess of Mayhem (Book Three)

  Earl of Every Sin (Book Four)

  The Wicked Winters

  Wicked in Winter (Book One)

  Wedded in Winter (Book Two)

  Wanton in Winter (Book Three)

  Wishes in Winter (Book 3.5) ~ Available in A Lady’s Christmas Rake

  Willful in Winter (Book Four)

  Wagered in Winter (Book Five)

  Wild in Winter (Book Six)

  Wooed in Winter (Book Seven) ~ Available in Lords, Ladies and Babies


  Stand-alone Novella

  Lord of Pirates

  CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

  Love’s Second Chance

  Reprieve (Book One)

  Perfect Persuasion (Book Two)

  Win My Love (Book Three)

  Coastal Heat

  Loved Up (Book One)

  About the Author

  USA Today and Amazon bestselling author Scarlett Scott writes steamy Victorian and Regency romance with strong, intelligent heroines and sexy alpha heroes. She lives in Pennsylvania with her Canadian husband, adorable identical twins, and one TV-loving dog.

  A self-professed literary junkie and nerd, she loves reading anything, but especially romance novels, poetry, and Middle English verse. Catch up with her on her website www.scarlettscottauthor.com. Hearing from readers never fails to make her day.

  Scarlett’s complete book list and information about upcoming releases can be found at www.scarlettscottauthor.com.

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  Wedded in Winter

  The Wicked Winters Book Two

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2019 by Scarlett Scott

  Published by Happily Ever After Books, LLC