Page 23 of Scandal With A Viscount

The rain. The cabin. Their engagement. She could be carrying his child. All of it.

And she’d never been more at peace in her life.

She lay still, letting herself feel the warmth of him along her body and the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back. She'd never woken up beside a man before. She'd never wanted to. Until now.

The fire had burned to embers. Morning light came through the single window, cloudy and gray. The storm had passed, but the sun hadn’t made an appearance from behind the clouds yet. Their clothes were still draped over the furniture where they'd left them, stiff and wrinkled from drying. The horses would need tending. They’d need to ride back to Greystone soon. There would be questions—where they'd been, why they'd both disappeared, why neither horse was in the stable.

Louis stirred behind her. His arm tightened around her waist, and his mouth pressed against her shoulder.

“Good morning, beautiful.” His voice was rough with sleep. “I was having the best dream, and it would seem it was very real.”

She giggled and turned in his arms to face him. His hair was a disaster and there was a crease from the pillow across his cheek, but he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. “But we have a problem.”

“Several, I'd imagine, since it seems we allowed ourselves to stay out all night.”

They’d indulged in copious pleasures, ranging from lovemaking to wild, unbridled passion, that had taken them to the wee hours of the morning. Georgie lost count of how many times she had climaxed.

“We should get back and confirm we can get Wesley and Thea to help with whatever scandal we’ve already created.” Assistance from a duke and duchess surely couldn’t hurt.

“Not quite yet.” Louis urged her onto her back and then shifted so he was on top of her, kissing his way down her body.

His mouth traced a path between her breasts, across her stomach, and lower. She knew where he was headed, and her body was already responding. Her thighs parted for him before his hands urged them apart.

“Louis, we really should—”

“We should.” He pressed his mouth to the inside of her thigh. “But we have enough time for this.”

His tongue found her, and her protest died in her throat. He licked through her seam in a long, unhurried stroke, his hands gripping her thighs, holding her open for him. There was no urgency in it—just the deliberate attention of a man who intended to take his time.

“We have a decidedly wicked scandal to manage.” Her words came out between moans as her fingers threaded into his hair.

“I might as well start the day feasting on my betrothed.” He circled her clit with his tongue, and her hips lifted off the mattress. “So damn sweet.”

He settled into a rhythm that made her grip the sheets—slow, focused strokes that built the most delicious tension in her core. His fingers dug into her thighs, and his mouth worked her with the kind of thorough diligence that told her he was enjoying this as much as she was.

She stopped pretending she wanted him to stop. Her hand fisted in his hair. She held his mouth against her, and he groaned when she rocked against his face, the vibration sending a shudder through her entire body. He slid two fingers inside her while his tongue pressed harder against her clit. The combination undid her fast. Her back arched, her thighs clenched around his head, and she screamed in pleasure as she came apart against his mouth.

He worked her through it. His tongue gentled as the aftershocks rolled through her, and then he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh and looked up at her with an expression of pure satisfaction. “Now my future wife may dress.”

“You're insufferable.”

“You'll have a lifetime to grow accustomed to it.” He kissed her hip and climbed back up the bed to press his mouth against hers. She could taste herself on his lips, and it made her want to pull him back down and forget about ever returning to Greystone. They could just live in this very cabin.

But they had to face whatever awaited them. The sooner they did, the sooner they could marry and start their life together. So she kissed him once more and forced herself to climb from the bed.

They dressed in their wrinkled clothes that still smelled of rain. Louis helped her with her stays and the buttons on her gown.

“You don’t speak to Dunblane without me.” He met her gaze. “I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any man that threatens a woman.”

“Just don’t do anything that will delay our hasty marriage.”

He grinned, and that handsome grin made her sway on her feet. She only hoped it would always be that way.

They rode back to Greystone in the morning light, side by side. The estate came into view and Georgie's hands tightened on the reins. Two men were crossing the front lawn toward the stables. Their focus fixed on Georgie and Louis.

Wesley.

And Max.