Page 22 of Scandal With A Viscount

“You were already mine, sweetheart.”

He withdrew his fingers and positioned himself between her thighs. She reached for him, her hand wrapping around his cock and guiding him to her entrance. He pushed inside her with a slowness that let him feel every inch.

Her breath left her in a shudder. His forehead dropped against hers. He held still, fully seated inside her, their breath mingling. The feeling of her around him—hot, tight, her body gripping him—was so overwhelming that he almost closed his eyes.

“Look at me, Georgie.”

She opened her eyes. They were wet, but fierce. She held his gaze and he held hers. This was the thing he'd been afraid of his entire life. Knowing that every piece of him now belonged to someone else. He was hers as much as she was his.

He moved with slow, deep strokes that drew a sound from her, a sound he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. Her legs came up around his waist—not pulling him harder, just holding him close—and her hands found his face. She kissed him while he moved inside her.

Her hips rose to meet his and they moved together. Every stroke was unhurried and every breath was shared.

“I love you.” He stilled inside her. He said it while they were joined and looking at each other with nothing left to hide. “I love you, Georgie.”

“I love you.” She said it back, and her voice didn't shake.

He moved again. Deeper, faster now, the intensity building. Her hand slid between them and her fingers found her clit. He watched her touch herself while he drove into her—her eyes holding his, her parted lips, the pleasure written on her beautiful face.

Everything inside him went wild with possession. He grabbed her wrist, brought her fingers to his lips, and sucked the taste of her off of them. Growling, he released her hand, and replaced it with his own to tease her opening while he took her harder.

“Louis—” Her body tightened around him, her back arching, and she came with her eyes open and his name on her lips. Every pulse of her gripped his cock.

He started to pull out, knowing he wouldn’t last.

Her legs tightened around his waist. “You don’t have to . . . I want to feel you. Inside me, I mean.”

He buried himself deep inside her and came with a groan that tore through his chest. His body shuddered against hers, and he spilled into her while she held him, her eyes still locked on his.

Louis stayed inside her while they both fought to catch their breath. His forehead rested against hers. Neither of them moved. The rain hammered the roof and the fire crackled, providing a background to their heavy breathing. Her body was warm beneath his, and he could feel her heart beating against his chest.

After a while he withdrew and settled beside her, pulling the blanket over both of them. She turned into him and pressed her face against his chest. His arms came around her and he held her.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“Now we go back to Greystone and I deal with Dunblane.”

“Louis—”

“I'm not going to kill him.” He paused. “Probably. But he put his hands on you and threatened you. He is not going to do either of those things again.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Max will find out. About us. About everything.”

“He has to.” He tightened his arms around her. “Because he’s going to accept that I’m marrying you. Whatever he wants to say to me, whatever he needs to do, I'll take it. Because as long as you’ll have me, Georgie, you're mine and I'm yours. I’ll get a special license as soon as possible. Please tell me you’ll marry me, Georgie.”

He kissed her forehead. Then her nose. Then her mouth, soft and slow.

Georgie’s eyelids fluttered as she met his gaze. “Of course I will.”

And his heart soared.

Chapter 9

Georgiana

Georgie woke to the unfamiliar weight of an arm across her waist.

For a disoriented moment she didn't know where she was. The ceiling was low and rough-hewn. The bed was narrow and the mattress was terrible and the blanket covering them was scratchy wool. Then Louis shifted behind her, pulling her closer in his sleep. His face pressed into the back of her neck, and everything from the night before came rushing back.