A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

Surely he did not expect her to say the words. “What I want?” she panted.

“Do you want me? Do you want me inside you?”

Claudia gulped. “Yes, Hudson. I want you.”

He lowered his head, his mouth closing around her erect nipple. The flick of his tongue dragged a moan from her lips. As she arched her back, relished the instant pleasure brought by his teasing, Hudson thrust hard, deep. “Christ!”

“Good Lord!” she cried through gritted teeth. Pleasure and pain whipped her insides. She didn’t know whether to moan with ecstasy as he filled her full or to gasp at the intrusion.

“Trust me,” he whispered, sliding in and out, in and out of her body. For a man who professed to trust no one, it was a surprising thing to say. But he was right. With every thrust of his thic

k shaft the pain subsided, and her desire grew.

“Why is it I feel the need to possess you?” he growled, his jaw just as hard and rigid as his impressive manhood.

Perhaps that was the way with lust. It grasped you in its powerful claws, teased, tormented, drove you to the point of insanity.

“Take what you want,” she said, but it was the madness speaking, the addiction, the craving.

He needed no further inducement to take her in strong, deep strokes.

His breathless pants sent puffs of white mist into the air. “I want you, Claudia. I want you so damn much …” He broke off, withdrew from her body.

She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she felt the hot liquid land on her stomach, heard the guttural groan of satisfaction that burst from her husband’s mouth.

Her husband?

How strange that she was so entrenched in this deception that she almost believed the lies, too?

But as Hudson collapsed at her side, as he pulled her into his arms, dragged the furs across their sweat-soaked bodies and kissed her on the temple, one thought proved dominant.

She was in love with Hudson Lockhart.

So in love, she would never marry another man, not as long as she lived.

Chapter Fifteen

“I daresay you’re right,” Dr Hewlett said as he sat back in the worn leather chair behind his desk. He steepled his fingers and narrowed his gaze. “Your father’s symptoms might indicate a number of ailments. Some severe, some less so. Without examining the patient, it’s impossible to tell.”

“Then will you come to Berwick Street this afternoon?” Lockhart infused a sense of urgency into his tone. He sat forward and stared across the desk. “I’m sure you will agree that time is crucial in such matters.”

“Indeed.” Dr Hewlett drew his appointment diary closer and scanned the open page. The doctor was younger than most, thirty by his estimation, though the man’s thick unkempt side whiskers suggested he had little time for anything other than work. “My last appointment is in Newman Street. I could meet you in Berwick at three.”

“We are grateful you can spare the time,” Claudia said from her seat next to Lockhart.

Lockhart nodded in agreement. “Should you find anything untoward, I wonder if you might remain at the house for a day or two.”

Dr Hewlett’s brows twitched. “I have other patients. I’m not sure—”

“I will more than compensate you for your time and trouble.”

The doctor hesitated. “Let us discuss the matter once I’ve examined your father.”

“Very well.” Lockhart stood. There was much to do. The early morning start for London, coupled with a lack of sleep, had left his energy flagging. “We’ll reconvene in Berwick Street—number twenty—at three.”

“At three,” the doctor repeated.

Not wanting to detain the doctor lest he run late, they left the man to his work. Drake had assured him that Dr Hewlett was both thorough and reliable and so Lockhart trusted the fellow would meet at the appointed time.