His tongue filled her, thrusting in and out as her cunny contracted around him. Already, she was close. He returned to her sensitive clitoris, delivering tender bites that had her riding his face and groaning around his cock. He was slick with her saliva and the precursor to his own spend. She took him deeper, wanting to make him as wild as he was rendering her, sucking and licking and pulling him to the back of her throat, which she knew always brought him so deliciously to the edge.
His hands traveled over her sides, her bottom, branding her, molding her to his touch. On a groan, he held her still for him to flutter little licks over her with gentle pulses before slowly fucking her with his tongue.
She came apart, her release shuddering through her with a violence that took her by surprise. Sparks of light danced behind her eyelids, and she moaned, her mouth full of him, his fingers kneading her hungry flesh as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her.
She was boneless, but still intent upon him finding his own release when he pulled her from him, arranging her limp and sated form on the bed. His lips shone with her juices, his cock beautifully erect as he settled between her thighs. She opened wide for him in invitation.
“Come inside me, Rafe.”
He gripped his shaft and aligned himself with her aching center. One thrust, and he entered her, the movement fast and sinuous. Leveraging himself on his forearms above her, he began a pace that was fast and furious and everything she wanted. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, body moving in time to his thrusts, urging him on.
She pulled his head down to hers, sealing their lips and sucking her own juices from his tongue. How good he felt inside her. How right. He reached to where they were joined, his fingers working over her pearl until she was coming again, clamping on his cock.
He moaned, his body stiffening, as he finally found his own release, the warm flood of his seed sending another rush of pleasure to her core. He remained where he was, their lips joined, his breathing as harsh as hers, his heart pounding against her breast.
When his head raised, the love in his eyes stole her breath anew. He kissed her nose, his hair tickling her cheeks. “I love you so bleeding much.”
She smiled up at him, sweeping an errant curl from his forehead. “I love you every bit as bleeding much, Rafe Sutton.”
He grinned, his dimples appearing. “Here now, lovely. I fear I’m debauching you with my wicked ways.”
“I know you have,” she said softly. “And I love it.”
“Good.” Still grinning, he kissed her again. “Because I have a lot more debauching to do.”
“I am counting upon it, my love,” she said against her husband’s lips.
* * *
Thank you for reading Rafe and Persephone’s story! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it.
Do read on for a bonus excerpt from Sutton’s Surrender, Book Three in The Sinful Suttons series, featuring the adventurous Miss Pen Sutton and the proper, icy Garrick Weir, Lord Lindsey. Is there any hope for the rigid son of a duke and an East End lady?
Please consider leaving an honest review of Sutton’s Sins. Reviews are greatly appreciated! If you’d like to keep up to date with my latest releases and series news, sign up for my newsletter here or follow me on Amazon or BookBub. Join my reader’s group on Facebook for bonus content, early excerpts, giveaways, and more.
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Sutton’s Surrender
The Sinful Suttons
Book Three
With his impeccable reputation and undeniable good looks, Garrick Weir, Viscount Lindsey, heir to the Duke of Dresden, has earned his place at the apex of fashionable London society. Every lady on the marriage mart wants him as her prize, and every young fop wants to be him. When his foolish younger brother declares his intention to marry a devious East End fortune hunter, Garrick is appalled. He vows to do everything in his power to stop the mésalliance from occurring.
Penelope Sutton has long considered Lord Aidan Weir her unlikely friend. But when he decides he wants to marry her to anger his father and condescending brother, she refuses to take part in his schemes. She would have told the arrogant Lord Lindsey as much had he not attempted to bribe her. And she most definitely would have informed him he should take his blunt back to Mayfair where it, and he, belongs…had he not kissed her.
Torn between a confounding attraction to Miss Sutton and the desire to make certain she stays far, far away from his brother, Garrick must prove she is every bit the title-hungry fortune seeker he believes her to be. Pen is equally determined to show the viscount how very wrong he is about her. But when their battle leads to much higher stakes than pride, everything changes for the rigidly proper lord and the rookeries-born lady.
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Chapter One
London, 1816
Garrick Weir, Viscount Lindsey, heir to the Duke of Dresden, had ventured to the East End with his outrage, an unwise proliferation of coin, and the determination to pay off the scheming, fortune-hunting harlot who was attempting to ensnare his madcap younger brother into matrimony. Thus far, he had managed to avoid pickpockets and other would-be criminals. He had similarly surpassed guards and found his way, unscathed, to the private room where his quarry would be found within the next half hour. The palms he had greased on his way here had suggested she would be within shortly.
Tallying ledgers.
Apparently, the lowborn miscreant was intelligent enough to know her arithmetic, at least—if his study of the neatly penned sums before him was to be trusted—in the case of gin being purchased versus consumed by patrons. But then, one could only suppose she also possessed enough intellect to bamboozle his idiotic sibling.
To be fair, Aidan was a stripling who thought with his cock and little else. It was entirely likely all that was required to persuade him was a set of breasts and a willing cunny.
Garrick shuddered as he thought of his brother’s appalling lack of judgment and turned the page in the ledger. Aidan had made it more than clear he did not give a farthing about preserving the Weir family name. Never mind that the Duke of Dresden was one of the oldest, most revered titles in England. Being a part of such a distinguished lineage was not sufficient for Aidan, who amused himself besmirching their good name by drinking, whoring, gambling, gadding about at bareknuckle boxing matches, and announcing he intended to marry a lowborn title seeker.
His pronouncement at dinner the evening before had been the ultimate slap to the face for their father. The duke suffered from a weak heart, and Garrick had feared their father would expire at the table from the fury which had overtaken him. Garrick and his other brother Jonathan did not fault their father for his outrage. Miss Penelope Sutton was the most unsuitable match Aidan could have found, save from a Covent Garden doxy. Mother had called for her hartshorn and retired to her apartments.
Garrick sifted a few more pages of the ledger, his ennui leading him to grudgingly admit Miss Sutton’s penmanship was tidy and concise. Her spelling was regular. Perhaps she had received some manner of education. Not that such a matter should concern him. After this evening, he would neither see the woman nor hear from her ever again.
A sound in the hall beyond interrupted his perusal. He straightened, moving away from the desk and assuming his most intimidating pose as the door opened. She was earlier than he had expected, but it was just as well. The sooner they could settle this disagreeable matter, the better. He had a ball to attend.
The woman standing before Garrick took him by surprise. He had imagined she would be dressed in an unseemly display, breasts nearly popping from her bodice, her gown dampened to render it sheer. But instead, she wore a modest affair of an indeterminate light hue, buttoned to the throat. Her auburn hair was bound in a simple knot, a few tendrils free to frame her face.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
Well, her rudeness certainly met—and surpassed—his expectations.
He bowed as if they were in a drawing room rather than a r
amshackle East End gaming hell where countless despicable acts of gambling, drinking to excess, and Lord knew what else had occurred. “I am Lord Lindsey, Miss Sutton.”
She remained where she was, pinning him with a narrow, hazel-eyed stare. “Am I meant to know you?”
He tamped down a surge of irritation. Everyone knew him.
But then, she was a little no one, wasn’t she?
“You are acquainted with my brother, Lord Aidan Weir,” he elaborated grimly, for he refused to acknowledge the supposed betrothal between herself and his sibling.
The marriage was never happening, and he had lowered himself to visit this intolerable haven of iniquity to make certain of that.
A frown marred her otherwise fine features. “You are Aidan’s brother?”
Garrick grudgingly noted Miss Penelope Sutton was quite beautiful. Scarcely any wonder his scapegrace of a brother had been following her about these last few months, sniffing at her skirts.
“I am Lord Aidan’s brother, as I said,” he repeated, emphasizing his brother’s title.
The familiarity of his sibling’s name on her lips was irksome, and not just for the obvious reason.
“Lord Aidan.” She was unsmiling, her gaze studying him from head to toe in rude fashion as she remained where she was. “Yes, of course. Forgive me for forgetting he has a brother. He does not often speak of his family.”
Was that meant to be a barb? And why had the witch yet to curtsy and show the deference which was due him?
“I do not suppose he would,” Garrick commented mildly. “Do you intend to hover on the threshold all evening, or will you enter, Miss Sutton?”
He was growing weary of this game. An evening of entertainment beckoned, and he did not like the manner in which his body was reacting to this brazen chit. He was far too aware of her, his entire being acutely on edge.
Anger, he told himself. That was all it was.
She is an East End fortune hunter greedy to snatch a titled gentleman as her marital prize.
But she was a lovely one, and he could not deny it, much as that fact aggrieved him.
“Why have you come?” she asked instead of answering the question he had posed, still motionless.
She looked like a frightened doe, poised for flight.
He sighed. “Miss Sutton, enter the room, if you please. I hardly wish for all the world to hear my private affairs. Whilst my brother does not have a care for discretion, I do, and that is why I have sought you out this evening.”
“Has something happened to him?” She stepped over the threshold at last, the door not entirely closing at her back.
It would have to suffice.
“Your concern is almost touching, Miss Sutton.” He strode forward, eliminating the distance separating them. “But then, I suppose any title-greedy viper would be similarly worried at the prospect of losing the lord she believes she has ensnared.”
“Are you daring to insult me in my own family’s establishment, my lord?”
“I speak truth.” Curse it, was that her scent reaching him just now? She smelled like a walk in a summer’s meadow, fresh with a hint of a floral note.
East End fortune hunters were not meant to smell so luscious.
What the devil ails you? This is the woman Aidan has been chasing. And, knowing Aidan, bedding.
He disgusted himself. And yet, the woman before him possessed a certain attraction he could not deny. Not just her fine features or the vibrant warmth of her hair, but the manner in which she carried herself. He had no doubt, were she to stand in a ballroom, she would command the attention of every gentleman in the chamber.
“What truth do you speak, sir?” Her full lips compressed with disapproval.
Ah, a rarity, that. A woman who looked upon him as if he were disagreeable to behold. How intriguing. He could not recall the last time a lady had gazed at him with anything other than admiration, whether genuine or manufactured.
“That you are a title-greedy viper. It is to be expected of a lady in your unfortunate circumstances.” He clenched his hands at his sides to keep from giving in to the urge to brush a stray wisp of hair from her cheek. “But I have come prepared to give you what you truly wish. How much do you require to leave my brother alone and end this nonsensical betrothal?”
Her eyes, a curious shade of green and gray with flecks of cinnamon, and fringed with generous lashes, widened. “Are you bribing me, my lord?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I am.”
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
The cant speech used by the Suttons has been sourced mostly from The Memoirs of James Hardy Vaux (1819) and Grose’s Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue (1811). In case you were wondering, the words screw and shag, which we tend to think of as modernisms, both appear in the latter, defined as “to copulate.” The word “scrope” is cant for farthing.
DON’T MISS SCARLETT’S OTHER ROMANCES!
Complete Book List
HISTORICAL ROMANCE
Heart’s Temptation
A Mad Passion (Book One)
Rebel Love (Book Two)
Reckless Need (Book Three)
Sweet Scandal (Book Four)
Restless Rake (Book Five)
Darling Duke (Book Six)
The Night Before Scandal (Book Seven)
Wicked Husbands
Her Errant Earl (Book One)
Her Lovestruck Lord (Book Two)
Her Reformed Rake (Book Three)
Her Deceptive Duke (Book Four)
Her Missing Marquess (Book Five)
Her Virtuous Viscount (Book Six)
League of Dukes
Nobody’s Duke (Book One)
Heartless Duke (Book Two)
Dangerous Duke (Book Three)
Shameless Duke (Book Four)
Scandalous Duke (Book Five)
Fearless Duke (Book Six)
Notorious Ladies of London
Lady Ruthless (Book One)
Lady Wallflower (Book Two)
Lady Reckless (Book Three)
Lady Wicked (Book Four)
Lady Lawless (Book Five)
Lady Brazen (Book 6)
Unexpected Lords
The Detective Duke (Book One)
The Playboy Peer (Book Two)
The Wicked Winters
Wicked in Winter (Book One)
Wedded in Winter (Book Two)
Wanton in Winter (Book Three)
Wishes in Winter (Book 3.5)
Willful in Winter (Book Four)
Wagered in Winter (Book Five)
Wild in Winter (Book Six)
Wooed in Winter (Book Seven)
Winter’s Wallflower (Book Eight)
Winter’s Woman (Book Nine)
Winter’s Whispers (Book Ten)
Winter’s Waltz (Book Eleven)
Winter’s Widow (Book Twelve)
Winter’s Warrior (Book Thirteen)
The Sinful Suttons
Sutton’s Spinster (Book One)
Sutton’s Sins (Book Two)
Sutton’s Surrender (Book Three)
Sins and Scoundrels
Duke of Depravity
Prince of Persuasion
Marquess of Mayhem
Sarah
Earl of Every Sin
Duke of Debauchery
Second Chance Manor
The Matchmaker and the Marquess by Scarlett Scott
The Angel and the Aristocrat by Merry Farmer
The Scholar and the Scot by Caroline Lee
The Venus and the Viscount by Scarlett Scott
The Buccaneer and the Bastard by Merry Farmer
The Doxy and the Duke by Caroline Lee
Stand-alone Novella
Lord of Pirates
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Love’s Second Chance
Reprieve (Book One)
Perfect Persuasion (Book Two)
Win My Love (Book Three)
Coastal Heat
Loved Up (Book One)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today and Amazon bestselling author Scarlett Scott writes steamy Victorian and Regency romance with strong, intelligent heroines and sexy alpha heroes. She lives in Pennsylvania and Maryland with her Canadian husband, adorable identical twins, and two dogs.
A self-professed literary junkie and nerd, she loves reading anything, but especially romance novels, poetry, and Middle English verse. Catch up with her on her website http://www.scarlettscottauthor.com/. Hearing from readers never fails to make her day.
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Sutton’s Sins: The Sinful Suttons Book 2 Page 20