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Cradling her belly, Ophelia watched Apollo guiding Catherine and Reggie in the summer sun. Her heart had never been fuller than it was now in this moment, surrounded by the people—and dogs—who loved her most.

Thank you so very much for reading Duke with a Desire! I hope you loved this spicy, angsty age gap HEA between Apollo and his Phee every bit as much as I loved writing their story. If you’re looking for Aphrodite and Mal’s story, do read on for a sneak peek at their enemies-to-lovers, brother’s best friend, teach-me romance in Duke with a Seduction. Things are about to get messy.

A note on historical accuracy - I did my best to accurately portray the laws concerning guardianship in England at the time. In the 1870s, a man could indeed choose his own guardian for his children and the mother would lose her rights, just like the circumstances facing Phee. Later reforms changed this.

Please stay in touch! The only way to be sure you’ll know what’s next from me is to sign up for my newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/dyJSar. Please join my reader group for early excerpts, cover reveals, and more here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/scarlettscottreaders. And if you’re in the mood to chat all things steamy historical romance, join my historical romance hangout, Dukes Do It Hotter right here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/hotdukes because we’re having a whole lot of fun!

Duke with a Seduction

Wicked Dukes Society Book 8

Self-avowed spinster Lady Aphrodite Isdale has no intention of marrying and putting herself at the mercy of any man. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t long to experience pleasure. When the opportunity to attend a Wicked Dukes Society house party falls into her lap, she seizes the chance.

Unapologetic rake Malcolm Holland, Duke of Wrighton, is jaded, bored, and in desperate need of diversion. His plans are dashed, however, when his best friend’s sister walks in on him in flagrante delicto at the naughty house party he’s attending. With no choice other than to keep the infuriating Aphrodite from ruin, his chances of indulging in carnal abandon become precisely zero.

Their enmity is mutual. Their attraction is incendiary. And as the barbs they’ve been trading turn into kisses, Malcolm discovers a whole new problem. He’s falling hard for a woman who has vowed she’ll never be his.

Chapter One

She didn’t have the right color hair.

The lovely woman on her knees before Malcolm Holland, Duke of Wrighton, had golden tresses that trailed in burnished waves down her back. But her breasts were just how he imagined Aphrodite’s were, lush handfuls tipped with pert, peach-pink nipples.

And he had spent a great deal of time over the years—much to his everlasting shame—envisioning their size and weight in his palms. Shame not because of his insatiable desires where that gorgeous, infuriating, disagreeable, maddening, storm cloud of a woman was concerned.

But because he wasn’t meant to lust over Lady Aphrodite Isdale. The list of reasons why was positively endless.

She was his best friend’s sister. That rendered her quite forbidden. She also made no effort to hide her extreme dislike of him. Sadly, that only made his cock even harder. She was also a virgin. An unmarried, defiant spinster of nine-and-twenty who made no apologies about her determination to remain forever unwed. Malcolm didn’t bed virgins.

He didn’t like them. He had lost his own innocence at the age of fifteen at a country house party with a significantly older married woman who had introduced him to the joys of fornication. Joys he was presently reveling in now.

The blonde before him made a low sound of satisfaction as she increased the suction on his cock. This was what he needed, why he had decided to attend the latest Wicked Dukes Society house party at Wingfield Hall. Sensual oblivion. The opportunity to bed as many women as he wished away from the ever-scrutinizing gazes of his mother and sisters.

At the thought, his poor cock deflated.

The blonde reared back on her heels. “Is something amiss?”

“No,” he denied, giving himself a few swift strokes as he thought of Aphrodite.

He closed his eyes and saw a dark-haired goddess bare-breasted and on her knees. She was looking at him like she didn’t know if she wanted to suck him dry or hit him with a fire poker. His cock went rigid again.

The mouth returned, supplanting his hand.

In his mind, it was Aphrodite’s mouth, her lips pink and full and stretched wide around his cock. He reached for a handful of silken hair, imagining it was inky curls instead of golden waves.

A tongue swirled over his cock head, then trailed along the sensitive underside.

God yes.

Then her mouth was on him again, sucking, hot and wet and just the right amount of everything all at once. She cupped his ballocks, gently fondling, and a white-hot sizzle began at the base of his spine.

Aphrodite wouldn’t know how to touch him. She was a virgin. He’d teach her. Coax her to bring him off and then he would paint her gorgeous breasts with his spend.

The mouth on his cock moved, bringing him deeper.

“That’s it, love. Take me down your throat,” he urged her, eyes still closed.

She did, and the pleasure of it was almost more than he could bear. He rocked his hips, fucking the woman’s mouth.