The Undoing of a Libertine (Somerset Historicals 2)

“No. It’s a lot of blithering rubbish of no interest to me,” Simon whined.

“God help us!” he yelled, shaking his head. “It’s of great interest to me, as it should be to you! That cocky bastard, Greymont, has married Georgina Russell! Already done. More than a week ago!” He stabbed a finger at the announcement on the news page.

Simon narrowed his eyes and came toward him. He snatched the paper and scanned the section. “That presumptuous prick!” he shouted, flinging the paper down. “She was to be for us!”

Pellton took some solace in the apparent disappointment Simon showed at the loss of such a prize. At least the boy had a partially functioning brain. Hell, he’d even gotten to fuck her sweet cunt. “Aye. The operative term is ‘was,’ but not anymore. She’s Mrs. Greymont now and off the marriage market. He’s no doubt stashed her in the country where he can keep an eye on her.”

“That is downright tragic, Uncle. She was delectable beyond words, and I was looking forward playing with her again. She is a rare combination, that one. Lots of fight left in her.”

“As you’ve reminded me more times than I care to hear,” Pellton retorted. “I am feeling very bereft at the moment, Simon. Let us go out and drown our losses in some shared quim. What do you say, son?”

“An excellent plan, Uncle, but…we needn’t leave this house for it.”

Pellton felt his cock tingle as the blood rushed in. “Who do you have upstairs?” he asked.

“I believe she claimed her name to be Ella, or Emma, something like that.” He shrugged. “I snatched her off the street early this morning. She’s not of our class of course, but unridden before today.”

Incredible. Simon had more guile than he ever thought possible. “You snatched a virgin off the London streets this morning?”

“Yes. A lush berry ready to be plucked. She begged me to let her go. Said her father would pay coin for her safe return. But I figure he couldn’t have much capital being a tradesman.”

“What trade? He might have more than you think?”

“Oh, a lowly tanner or some such dirty business. I don’t care for the tainted money. I told her the pink slit between her legs would suit me far better.”

“Mmmm. And she is amenable to ménage?”

“Amenable? Who would ask her opinion? I won’t. Will you ask her, Uncle?”

Pellton’s cock was fully hard now, and he no longer cared about anything but fucking away his anger at losing Georgina Russell to that rake, Greymont. He swept out his arm to Simon. “After you, Nephew. Please introduce me to Ella, or is it Emma? I can’t wait to meet her—um, I mean, fuck her.”

* * * *

The carriage ride home was a short one. Sitting opposite each other, Georgina could sense tension in Jeremy. The perfect gentleman, but also like a wolf about to pounce. His eyes looked positively feral, gleaming at her in the dark.

“Did you enjoy the evening?” Jeremy asked her.

“Very much. The Rourkes are lovely, and I look forward to more pleasant times together.”

They rocked slowly from the sway of the coach along the road.

“Jeremy, what were you thinking about when we came down the stairs from Marianne’s studio?”

“What?” She saw his legs flex, and he shifted in his seat.

“You looked at me profoundly, and I want to know what you were thinking just then.”

His eyes stabbed her. “I was thinking of how gorgeous you looked coming down to me, and how you would be tonight when I’m buried deep inside you.”

Dear Christ, she nearly choked. His direct talk had an immediate, visceral effect. She clamped her thighs together to try to relieve the wet heat that suddenly pounded between them. A moan slipped out from between her lips of its own free will, and despite the chill of the night air, sweat broke out between her breasts and on her neck.

Yes. She had guessed right. A vision of Jeremy looming over, thrusting into her wildly, eyes all abandoned, flashed in her head. The rawness of it made her completely and utterly wanton for him. He incited a part of her she never knew existed but, now that she did know, shocked her to her core. The air suddenly seemed sucked out of the coach, and she gulped a breath, and then another.

Somehow she formed the words to speak. “What—what do you want?”

He didn’t pause even a second. “I want you to—”

But then the coach pulled to an abrupt stop, cutting off his reply. A rap on the door sounded, and then it opened. Jeremy got up and exited first, giving his hand to assist her out.