Page 69 of A Virgin for the Ton's Wolf

His name. NotYour Grace.

“Scarlett…”

Her name escaped as a groan. A fulfillment of desires that he had thought he could restrain.

Not anymore.

His lips crashed against hers like a wave hitting the shore. His fingers sank into her scalp, anchoring her to the onslaught of his mouth. It had only been days since he had last kissed her,tasted her… and yet he devoured her like a starving man before a banquet.

A soft mewl escaped her throat, and he angled his mouth, deepening the kiss. His tongue swept past her teeth to entangle with her own. Bloody hell, but she was quite the adept student, and she had learned precisely how to drive him to his knees with just a kiss. Even the most adept courtesans from all over Europe had not been able to drive him this wild with need. They hadn’t even been close to what this goddess was doing to him.

“You… you cannot say that,” she panted.

He growled as his lips trailed down her jaw, reveling in the shuddering breath he felt her take. “And yet here you are.” He smirked against her soft, flushed skin. “In my arms, not his.”

He nuzzled the side of her neck and was rewarded with a strangled moan. Oh, she could try to resist him, but he knew better. They both knew better.

There was no way either of them could walk away from all of this unscathed. They had dug their claws into each other, leaving marks where no others could.

The Wolf and his little cat.

“You are mine,” he growled against her skin. “And that bloody Marquess of yours will do well to keep his hands off what is mine.”

She let out a shaky laugh that had his cock aching, straining against his breeches.

“He is not my Marquess,” she murmured, her voice tinged with some unfamiliar emotion. “Neither am I yours.”

He chuckled huskily.

Still denying that, are we?

“We shall see, little cat. We shall see.”

His hands slid down her hair, sending pins scattering in their wake. Her hair tumbled down in a riotous waterfall of flaming silk. Her lips, kiss-swollen, parted slightly as she breathed. Her blue eyes met his without flinching.

She was glorious, and every fiber of his being screamed at him to make her his. To bury himself to the hilt inside her tight, wet heat. To claim her as no other had before.

His fingers dug slightly into her ribcage.

Nor shall anyone ever come after me.

“Hudson.”

His eyes flickered to hers, seeing the naked want reflected in those pools of brilliant sapphire.

“You do not want me,” she told him, her voice trembling. “You must let me go.”

“And therein lies our problem, my dear,” he told her harshly. “I want you too damn much.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath.

“I want my name on your lips.” He swept the pad of his thumb over the peak of her breast, feeling the bud tighten beneath the layers of fabric that separated them.

“I want my cock buried between your legs.” He punctuated his words by grinding that particular part of his anatomy against her. “I want you coming on my lips, on my cock… but only after you beg me for release.”

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and when he lifted his head, he was met with her clear blue eyes, blazing as she regarded him with a sharp-edged smile. His little cat had sunk her claws into him, and he found it quite delightful to be caught in her clutches.

“Oh, really, Hudson.” Her voice was a low, throaty purr that spoke to his deepest, darkest desires.

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