The Viscount Always Knocks Twice (Heart of Enquiry Book 4)

by Grace Callaway

  Carlisle, for his part, wasn’t one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but there was no mistaking the deep and abiding emotion in the Scot’s eyes whenever he looked at his bride-to-be. As if he couldn’t believe his good fortune.

  Smiling, Ambrose leaned his head back and slung an arm over his eyes. Yawning, he said, “You’re right, of course. I’m glad Vi will be settling down with a decent chap. But I can’t say I’ll be sorry to leave this place tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow will come soon enough.” Marianne’s voice entered the room. “In the meantime…”

  He removed his arm, looked up. All vestiges of fatigue vanished, replaced by hot, belly-clawing hunger. The front of his trousers instantly tented.

  For his wife was standing in front of him—and she wasn’t wearing a stitch.

  “The party’s not over yet, darling,” she said with a sultry smile.

  She lifted one knee onto the divan, then the other, straddling his lap.

  Then she proceeded to affirm yet again that he was, indeed, the luckiest bastard alive.

  Chapter Forty

  Ten days later

  Filled with triumph, Richard swept his new wife into his arms. With the skirts of her lemon yellow travelling dress billowing over his arm, he carried her over the threshold. Complements of the Tremonts, their bridal bower was the finest suite at Mivart’s, a grand London hotel. The lavish room was done up in shades of ivory and gold and boasted separate sitting and bathing rooms attached to the main boudoir.

  “This suite is the utmost, isn’t it?” Violet said gleefully.

  Captivated by her glowing eyes, he said huskily, “Aye. The utmost.”

  Setting her gently down on her feet, he watched with amusement as she tossed off her bonnet and gloves and scampered through the rooms like a curious kitten. Her explorations were shared with him via her adorably scattered commentary.

  “… oh look, they’ve left us a bottle of champagne… by Golly, you ought to see the bathing tub, it’s enormous… butter and jam, the bed is the largest I’ve ever seen…”

  Her last comment got his attention. Grabbing the bottle of champagne and two flutes, he went into the bedchamber… and stopped short at the sight of Violet on her back on the cream-colored counterpane. Her arms and legs were stretched out as if she were lying on a bed of snow, making a snow angel. She was grinning up at the canopy.

  Joy punctured his chest. Standing in the doorway watching his wife at play, he vowed to protect her youthful exuberance for as long as he lived. Then she leaned up on her elbows, and the flirtatious warmth in her tawny eyes turned his thoughts from her adorable qualities to her womanly ones. Her lithe form and gorgeous face made his blood thrum, beckoning him like a fever dream.

  But he didn’t want to rush things. This was their wedding night; he wanted to make it special for her. And if the fact that she was a virgin made him just the slightest bit uneasy, he reasoned that it was only natural. For tonight was to be a first for him as well: he’d never taken a lady’s innocence before.

  Popping the cork of the champagne (and trying to push a related image out of his mind), he poured two flutes of the bubbly golden liquid and brought them over to the bed. He handed Violet one and sat next to her on the mattress.

  He tapped his glass to hers. “Cheers, lass.”

  “Cheers.” Her eyes out-sparkled the champagne.

  For a few moments, they drank in companionable silence.

  “Did you enjoy the wedding?” he said.

  As McLeod had predicted, they’d wed by special license, the small ceremony taking place at the Strathavens’ townhouse. It hadn’t been a big to-do; they’d only invited her family, Wick, and a few close friends to share in the special occasion. Since all Richard had wanted was to make Violet his, he was well satisfied with the wedding. But was she similarly so?

  “It was first-rate,” she said happily. “Everything from the ceremony to luncheon to the tossing of the bouquet.”

  “Tell me the truth: were you aiming for Miss Billings?” he asked.

  “It was the least that I could do.” Violet’s eyes grew shadowed. “But I’m worried about her… and Wick, too.”

  Richard shared her concerns. Three days ago, Wick had brought news that he’d negotiated a new arrangement with Garrity: he would be working off his debt to the usurer. He’d refused to elaborate further, and to Richard’s protests he’d replied firmly, “For once in my life, I’m going to take responsibility for my actions. I have a chance to start afresh, and I’m taking it. I hope you’ll support me, brother.”

  What could Richard say to that? His younger brother was finally growing up. He had to trust Wick to find his own way.

  As for Miss Billings…

  “Do you really think that she persuaded Garrity to give Wick a job?” he said.

  Because as surprised as he was at Wick’s newfound maturity, he was even more surprised that Garrity had agreed to new terms. The moneylender wasn’t known for having changes of heart—if indeed the man even possessed that particular organ.

  “I don’t know. Gabby’s being a clam about it.” Vi nibbled on her lip. “And when Gabby doesn’t talk, then one truly has cause for worry.”

  Richard got rid of their glasses and pulled her into his lap. “We’ll be there for Wick and Miss Billings if they need us,” he said simply. “In the interim, we’ll have to trust that they will find their own happiness. As we have.”

  “Yes.” The shadows lifted; she smiled at him. “What did you think of Harry?”

  Richard had got on with Harry Kent immediately. The lad knew a thing or two about sports… even if he tended to view everything through the lens of science. During the wedding luncheon, Harry had expounded upon the importance of considering force, acceleration, and momentum in improving one’s punch in the boxing ring. It had been fascinating, a conversation unlike any Richard had had before.

  “I like Harry. And your entire family.” Richard cleared his throat. “They are very generous.”

  In truth, their generosity had astonished and humbled him. The dowry put together by her family had been far more than he’d anticipated, enough for him to get his estate truly back on its feet. What was more, Strathaven had offered to stake Richard’s breeding program for a share of future profits.

  Richard wasn’t used to getting help. As much as he appreciated it, he also felt… uncomfortable.

  “It’s not charity, you know.” As ever, Violet was able to read his thoughts. “Think of it as an investment. My family knows, as I do, that you’re going to make a smashing success of things.”

  God, her faith in him… he’d never known anything sweeter.

  “What did I do to deserve you?” he marveled.

  She looped her arms around his neck. “You didn’t let a trifle like a dip in a fountain dissuade you from courting me?”

  “Minx.”

  Unable to resist any longer, he kissed her. The simmering hunger between them boiled over, their lips and tongues melding, their mouths feasting. She tasted of crisp champagne and warm woman, a mix that made him feel drunk with desire. Before he knew it, his hands were tearing furiously at her garments, and hers were just as eager upon his.

  When there was nothing between them, he lay her down and gazed at her. She was his Aglaea: the embodiment of grace and sensual vitality. Her glossy tresses framed her vivid face, a blush spreading like a sunset over her flawless skin. Her breasts surged temptingly, the tips stiff and needy. As her slender limbs moved restlessly against the counterpane, he glimpsed the sheen of dew on her pussy and swallowed.

  Her charms… too innumerable to count.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

  “I was about to say the same thing.”

  His chest burgeoned at the admiration in her gaze.

  “I could look at you day and night,” he returned.

  “Gadzooks, you’re not actually planning on doing that, are you?” Her eyes widened. “You know how much I hate wai
ting.”

  Her unmaidenly response made him laugh. “Far be it for me to make a lady wait, then.”

  He palmed one firm breast, his thumb skating across the rosy tip, and her bottom lip caught beneath her teeth. He swooped down to suckle her sweet tits, lured back and forth between the lovely swells. He took his time, laving her nipples, licking and teasing them until they were glistening and swollen and she was panting his name.

  Only then did he move lower, trailing kisses down the smooth valley between her ribs. She squirmed and giggled when his tongue dipped into her belly button. Settling himself between her thighs, he pushed them farther apart. He inhaled the scent of her arousal, his erection jerking against his thigh.

  Her legs twitched bashfully against his palms.

  “Spread wider for me,” he coaxed. “That’s it, love, show me your pussy. No reason to hide such a pretty part of you, is there?” He petted her silky curls, then reverently parted her folds. “By Jove, you’re drenched for me.”

  “Richard, you’re driving me mad,” she gasped. “Do something.”

  “Do you have anything particular in mind?”

  Her hips lifted in a silent plea, and his mouth watered.

  “God, yes,” he said thickly.

  ~~~

  Violet cried out as the relentless sensual assault of Richard’s mouth brought her to a third peak. His kiss had been so hot, the wicked words he’d muttered even hotter. “Christ, I love licking your pussy. Tonguing your pearl. Come for me, give me more of your sweet cream…”

  Since she’d done so—thrice—she judged they were ready to move onto other things. She wasn’t afraid of what was to come. She wanted it. Wanted to be as close to the man she loved as possible.

  “Richard,” she said.

  He raised his head. His strong jaw glistened with her juices, and his eyes were glazed.

  “Come to me,” she whispered.

  His gaze flared, and then he surged up her body, taking her mouth in a sinfully erotic kiss. She felt the heavy thrust of his cock against her belly and shivered with anticipation.

  “Are you frightened, love?” he murmured.

  His loving concern undid her even more.

  She cupped his jaw with both hands. “No, Richard. I want to be yours. Now.”

  “You are, Violet.” He leveraged himself over her, and her hands latched onto the powerfully flexing muscles of his shoulders. When he notched his cock to her opening, moistening the blunt tip in her slick folds, they both moaned. “By God, you are.”

  He entered her slowly, and she felt herself stretching around him, tightness giving way to an exhilarating sensation of fullness. No pain… only wholeness. Oneness. He was so snugly wedged that she fancied she could feel each vein and ridge of his shaft, each delicious pulse. When he butted against some exquisite spot inside, she jolted.

  “Am I hurting you?” He froze, his chest and neck taut with tension.

  “No, no, keep going…”

  He slid in deeper and deeper, and, inch by inch, he filled her body and her heart to overflowing. When he was fully seated inside her, she saw him looking intently at their joined bodies. His gaze lifted to hers, and the sheen in those scorched-earth eyes halted her breath.

  In a gravelly voice, he said, “You’re mine, Violet. As I am yours. Forever.”

  A vow. As deep and elemental as his presence inside her.

  “Forever,” she whispered. “I love you, Richard.”

  “I love you, lass.”

  He leaned down to kiss her and, at the same time, began to move. Slow, steady thrusts that awakened her to a new and intriguing pleasure. Her body moved instinctively to explore this new delight, her hips finding a rhythm to match his. All the while, their eyes remained open, their gazes connected, nothing hidden. This bold sharing intensified each movement of their heaving bodies.

  The pace of his loving increased, his cock drilling deeper and deeper. Soon her hips were rocking from the force of his thrusts, and, to hold on, she wrapped her legs around his lean waist. The new position made each lunge of his iron-hard shaft graze her throbbing peak, and she moaned, tipping her pelvis back further, wanting more of that sweet friction. Suddenly, a dam burst inside her, convulsions rippling from her core, stronger than any she’d felt before.

  “Lass, you’re loving me so well,” he groaned. “Can’t stop, I’m going to spend so hard for you…”

  A shudder passed through his large frame, his face contorting. He gave one last desperate surge, plunging so deep that he nudged her womb. A harsh groan tore from his chest as he detonated inside her, flooding her with pulse after pulse of his hot essence. Even after he was done, he continued thrusting slowly into their mingled warmth as if he couldn’t get enough.

  Staring up into her husband’s sated face, she realized that she’d never felt so connected to another. So safe and loved. And they had a lifetime of this ahead of them…

  He kissed her forehead tenderly. “What are you thinking, my love?”

  Grinning, she told him the truth. “That I just found my new favorite sport.”

  His laughter filled the room and her heart.

  Epilogue

  “Last one back to the stables is a rotten egg,” Violet declared.

  Richard grinned… because it was just the sort of thing his viscountess would say.

  “I’ll give you a head start.” He tightened the reins as Aiolos stamped his hooves in eager anticipation. Ach, he knew just how the stallion felt. Since his marriage, he’d discovered the surfeit of delights that each and every day could bring—all because of Violet.

  Wonder and pride expanded his chest.

  The love of his life rolled her eyes. “As if I need a head start. I’m going to win this fair and square. On the count of three, ready? One… two… three!”

  She took off like a shot. Riding as one with Moonlight, the silver grey Arabian mare he’d given her, she galloped through the heather and swaying grasses toward the newly renovated stables in the distance. She was riding astride, in the pair of trousers he’d had specially designed for her to wear during their romps together. He gave his lady as much advantage as he dared—not enough to let her suspect that he’d done so—before he gave his mount the signal. “Go, boy!”

  Aiolos needed no further urging.

  Exhilaration fired Richard’s blood as he followed close on his beloved’s trail. Somewhere along the way her bonnet flew off, but she seemed to take no notice, her thick, glossy braid flowing free in the hot summer air. He saw her sneak a glance back at him; that move cost her. Aiolos sprang forward, his longer stride beginning to eat up the difference between him and the dainty, fleet-footed mare.

  But Violet, as Richard knew full well, was not the kind of woman to yield (except when he was making love to her and, by God, that was sweet). Sure enough, her elegant spine curved over the saddle, her slim, trousered legs tightening on her mare’s sides.

  Lucky, lucky mare.

  Recalling how Violet had ridden him before breakfast made Richard lose a few precious seconds, but he snapped his attention back to the race as they neared the stables, Vi less than a length ahead. He could see the finish line—the entryway to the stable’s courtyard—and the stone water trough sparkling just beyond.

  Bending forward, he said, “Let’s show the girls what’s what, shall we, old boy?”

  Aiolos made a noise that sounded like a laugh. The Thoroughbred burst into full speed, hooves thundering, spraying the air with clumps of gravel and grass. They crossed the finish line a heartbeat before their fierce competitors.

  Richard dismounted as Tom, the stable hand, came jogging over. Tossing the gap-toothed lad the reins, he strode over to Violet. She put her hand in his, jumping down in a graceful motion.

  “By Golly, that was brilliant!” Her cheeks were pink, her tawny eyes lit with good humor. “Admit it: Moonlight and I almost had the two of you.”

  “It was close,” Richard agreed.

  Aiolos huffed as
if in protest, but when Tom brought Moonlight closer, the stallion adopted a more gentlemanly posture. He allowed the delicate mare to have the first drink from the round stone trough at the center of the courtyard before he took his fill. Then he stood beside her, nickering softly while she fluttered long eyelashes up at him.

  “Methinks love is in the air,” Vi said, grinning.

  And who was Richard to interfere with love?

  Turning to the stable hand, he said, “Give them a long cooling down, Tom—out to the orchard. The apples are in, and the horses deserve a treat.”

  “Yes, m’lord.” Whistling cheerfully, Tom led the way, the horses swishing their tails in unison as they followed.

  Once alone, Richard turned meaningfully to his viscountess. “Now as to the matter of the forfeit…”

  “Forfeit?” Her brow pleated; she had a dusty streak across her adorable nose. “I don’t recall there being any forfeit—”

  Her words ended in a shriek because he’d swept her off her booted feet. In three steps, he reached the trough… and released her gently. She made a shallow splash. The water wasn’t deep—about the same depth as that long ago fountain, actually.

  “Gadzooks!” Appearing stunned, she gawked up at him from where she sat, knees splayed, shallow waves rippling around her. “What was that for?”

  “Guess.”

  Her beautiful eyes narrowed. “Revenge?”

  His smile deepened. Devil and damn, he enjoyed playing with her. In the months since their marriage, they’d worked together to improve their estate, and, with Violet at his side, it hadn’t been drudgery. With her, labor was mingled with laughter and lightheartedness.

  Every day held surprises. Fun.

  “Well, you win.” She looked down at herself and wrinkled her nose. “Crumpets, my jacket is soaked. I’d better save it from further damage or my maid will have my head.”

  Deftly, she unbuttoned the garment, a feminine version of a man’s riding jacket. She passed it over to him, and he took it absently, entranced by the sight before him. Beneath the jacket she wore a white linen blouse, which the soaking had rendered nearly transparent. In the bright sunlight, he could see the outline of her pink and delectably puckered nipples…