When Scandal Came to Town (Scandalous Sons 3)

“Christ!” She was so hot, so wet, so eager to sheath his cock.

“Benedict!” The first thrust tore his name from her lips.

Hell, he had conjured this scenario so many times. The reality exceeded every wild fantasy. “God, love, you must have been dying for me to take you.” Her muscles hugged his shaft. “Show me how much you want me.”

She claimed his lips in a frenzied kiss, a hungry kiss that saw her drive her tongue deep into his mouth looking for a means to feed her craving. He felt the same sense of desperation writhing in his veins. A need to love his wife, fuck his wife, worship every inch of her mind and body. He wanted to devour her, consume her, hold her so damn close, never let her go.

He tore his mouth from hers, rained kisses down the column of her throat, took to sucking and nipping and feasting on the soft curve of her breasts.

“I’m so damn hard for you.” He was so bloody ravenous. But his need for her went beyond physical lust. She completed him. His soul ached to have her, ached just as much as his throbbing erection. “Do what you want with me. I have always been yours to command.” He was but a slave to her will.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Benedict. Show me what to do.”

“With pleasure.” He cupped her bare buttocks, guided her up and down his shaft until she found her own rhythm. And what a delightful rhythm it was.

Intoxicated, his head fell back against the squab as he watched his wife lose herself in her passions. She rode him with such wanton abandon he was fixated on every facial expression, every moan and pleasurable sigh.

You were always mine.

You were always meant for me.

He pressed his fingers to her intimate place and massaged in teasing strokes, observed every little shudder, every needy plunge in this erotic dance. The urge to confess his love was like a coil winding tighter inside, but he wanted her undivided attention when he made such an important declaration.

She came apart straddled across his thighs, her body convulsing around him, drawing him deeper, pumping his cock. A roar of satisfaction burst from him when he came seconds later.

As he held her close while their breathing settled, his emotions were torn. Torn between wanting to kill the person who had hurt her, and wanting to kneel at their feet to thank them for their wicked intervention.

“That was simply a prelude to what you might expect when we return home,” he said, catching his breath. “I intend to worship you slowly, with more care and attention.”

“Must we go to Hyde Park?” she asked, her voice dreamy with sated desire.

“While I would like nothing more than to explore our burning attraction, we must work to bring the villain to justice.” He retrieved a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to her.

A sweet sigh left her lips when she came up on her knees and he withdrew from her body. “I long for the day when this is over.” She crossed the carriage, straightened her skirts and flopped into the seat. “Perhaps we might go to Brighton. I’ll never forget the summer we spent there.”

“We were in love. Every aspect is ingrained in my memory, too.” While he straightened his clothes and fastened the buttons on his breeches, he considered the possibility that their feelings hadn’t changed. She certainly loved the intimacy. But did she still love him? “Like you, I trust we will see an end to our problems soon.”

Neither spoke for a time.

He raised the blinds and noted their direction. “We shall arrive at our destination in a matter of minutes. I told Foston to park near Hyde Park Corner.”

“Why there? Do you suspect the villain carried me to the Serpentine through that gate?”

“As it’s impossible to predict which entrance the kidnapper used, I suggest we start at the Serpentine and inspect all possible routes.” Benedict retrieved the walnut case from the cupboard beneath his seat. He flicked open the catches and scanned the pistols cushioned in burgundy velvet. “It might surprise you to learn that I’ve never had cause to use these. Still, it pays to be cautious.”

Foston parked the carriage in Brick Lane. Having given him command of both pistols, the coachman accompanied them into the grounds via Hyde Park Corner and followed at a reasonable distance behind.

Cassandra drew her cloak firmly across her chest as they moved past the entrance to the Row and navigated the tree-lined walkway leading down to the Serpentine. The cold night air burned his lungs every time he inhaled, though he suspected his wife’s shivering stemmed from fear, not the plummeting temperature.

A sinister energy lingered in the park at night. A strange and stirring atmosphere. The full moon turned the surrounding sky from inky blue to sulphur-grey. An eerie mist clung to the ground, a ghostly blanket swirling about their feet. The trees were but black shadows, sturdy onlookers watching the fools who thought it safe to take a stroll at such an ungodly hour.

“The park is deserted.” Cassandra hugged his arm and shivered again as she looked beyond the silvery moonlit path. While the trunks of the trees stood rigid in the wind, the leaves whispered suspicious secrets. “Whoever brought me here has no fear of the dark.”

“A man capable of committing such a heinous crime has no conscience.” Which was why Benedict was drawn to the notion that Lord Purcell was the culprit. “A man capable of performing the devil’s work is at home in ominous surroundings.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I might wake and find this is all a dream.”

Her choice of words intrigued him. “A dream, not a dreadful nightmare?”