Page 9 of Scandal With A Viscount

His hands flexed on her hips. “Don't stop, Louis. Please.”

He gave her what she asked for. Faster, harder, her body bouncing on his cock. The wet sounds of their bodies slapping together was loud in the quiet room. His hand slid between them, and his thumb pressed against her clit in tight circles that matched the rhythm of his thrusts, and her breath broke apart.

“Yes,” she gasped.

His thumb worked her in a rhythm that wound the tension tighter with every circle, his cock driving into her, and when it broke, it broke hard. Her back arched and her fingers clenched on his shoulders. She buried her cries into his neck. He followed moments later with a groan pulled from somewhere deep in his chest. He drove his hips up one final time, before he lifted her off of him, stroked himself once more, and coated her stomach with his warm seed.

They stayed like that. Her forehead against his shoulder, his hands loose on her thighs, their breathing the only sound in the room. His thumb traced an absent line along the outside of her hip—a small, careless gesture that was too tender for what this was supposed to be.

Then Georgie lifted herself off him, stood, and pulled her night rail back over her head. The material stuck to her from where he’d finished on her. He watched her from the settee, his breeches still open, his shirt hanging off one shoulder, his breathing not yet even. She retrieved her dressing robe from the floor and pulled it on, tying the sash.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m a dead man. Max is going to kill me.”

“Max is never going to find out, remember?” She met his gaze and held it. “But there’s no reason we can’t enjoy an arrangement while he’s not here.”

“Georgie—” he started. Then something crossed his face as he continued to stare at her. “And then we will never speak of it again.”

“It seems we have a mutually beneficial understanding.” She crossed to the door, checked the corridor through a crack, and found it empty. She glanced back at him over her shoulder and then stepped into the hall.

She’d done this before. Only a couple times, but she knew how this worked. She was good at this part. Walking away, not looking back, and keeping a man at the distance that let her enjoy his body without risking anything deeper.

Louis Prescott was no different. He was charming and handsome, and after several nights of pleasurable amusement, that would be the end of it.

But as she climbed into her bed and closed her eyes, his was the face she saw.

She did her best to push that realization aside. She had wanted him for so long. That had to be all it was.

Chapter 4

Louis

The guilt was going to eat him alive. But it wasn’t enough to make him stop. Three days. He'd been sleeping with Max's sister for three days, and he couldn’t get enough.

Louis stared at Max's letter on the writing desk while his valet finished with his cravat. The man smirked when he saw the bite marks on Louis’s shoulder, but thankfully didn’t make a comment. Georgie was spirited and wild and everything else he’d never expected her to be.

The letter caught his attention again. He'd left it there on purpose, staring back at him as a constant reminder that sleeping with Georgie was wrong. As if a piece of parchment could make him finally come to his senses. It reminded him of the promise he was breaking every time he fell into bed with the sister of his closest friend.

He was a terrible friend. The worst. Max would beat him senseless and then see him at the other end of a pistol if he ever found out. And Louis would let him, because he deserved it. But that knowledge didn't stop him from replaying the sound she'd made when she came apart around him, and it wasn't going to stop him tonight either.

Louis made it downstairs just as the guests were lining up to make their way to the dining room. He’d done his best to keep his distance from Georgie earlier that day to dissuade any talk that they were forming an attachment. They were, but not the kind acceptable to the rest of society. Or, more importantly, to her brother.

He immediately found Georgie among the guests. She was on the arm of some baron. Her dress was a shade of green that made her eyes sparkle when she smiled. She caught his gaze for half a breath. Everything stood still and it was just the two of them. Then she focused her attention back on that blasted man.

She had shown that she was good at this. Far too good. And knowing that he wasn’t Georgie’s first dalliance stung unexpectedly. She wouldn’t give him any specifics about losing her virginity, and it irked him in a way that he knew it shouldn’t.

This should be simple. She'd set the terms and he'd agreed. He'd done this before with Maddie, and that had worked for years before she had married. While Louis knew that love wasn’t in the cards for him, dalliances were another matter entirely.

Then why did he want to pummel the man who was currently speaking to Georgie? His hands fisted at his side, fighting the urge not to do just that.

“I find myself in need of an escort.”

Louis glanced to his left, and Lady Hurst stood at his side. The double meaning in her tone wasn’t lost on him.

He extended his arm to her, as good manners dictated. Lady Hurst was an attractive woman. Two weeks ago he would have allowed this flirtation to progress to its natural conclusion without a second thought. But now, with Georgie on the arm of some baron who might still receive a fist to the face, the widow's hand on his arm did nothing for him.

That was a problem. A significant one.

He escorted Lady Hurst into the dining room and pulled out her chair. Across the table, Georgie was seated between the baron and John, and she was laughing at something John had said. Louis tried not to stare. He failed. She glanced at him once, and the corner of her mouth twitched before she returned her attention to her plate.