A Steamy Excerpt from ‘Wicked Again’ by Kathleen Ayers
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Wicked Again is a steamy historical romance set in post-regency London where scandal meets happily ever after. Book 7 of the Wickeds.
‘Wicked Again’ by Kathleen Ayers Summary
A scandalous affair with a much younger man…
Lady Marissa Cupps-Foster has buried three husbands. Only one, her dear Reggie, was a love match. As a woman considered past her prime with two grown sons, she’s decided on discreet trysts when she feels the need for male companionship. Lord Trenton Haddon was only a dalliance. Haddon is tempting but far too young for her. And love is out of the question. Clearly, she isn’t good at it. Determined to forget Haddon, Marissa returns to London and immerses herself in society.
A former rake who has never been in love…
Seducing the widowed Lady Cupps-Foster was a way to pass the time at a dull house party but instead Haddon fell in love. Unfortunately, the object of his affection ended the affair and returned to London before he could declare himself. But Haddon has the perfect excuse to see Marissa again. His eldest daughter is about to make her debut and as a widower, he is in dire need of direction. Marissa won’t refuse his plea for help.
Another chance at love…
Haddon can be very persuasive when he wants something, and he wants Marissa. But Marissa is just as convinced he’ll eventually break her heart.
Will Marissa allow herself to find love again or will she stand by and watch Haddon marry someone else?
Copyright 2020 @Kathleen Ayers
“You should go,” she murmured, admiring Haddon’s beauty in the early morning light. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see him leaving her room. At the age of forty-nine, Marissa prided herself on a lifetime of discretion in regard to enjoying male companionship.
Especially at her age.
A low growl was Haddon’s reply. His fingers, large and blunt, tightened over the top of the sheet, searing her skin through the thin layer of linen. “Not yet, my lady.”
A widower with four daughters, Haddon was handsome, charming and several years her junior. Marissa didn’t take lovers often, but when she did, the gentlemen in question didn’t look a thing like Haddon. No, her lovers were her own age or older. Distinguished. Balding. Perhaps sporting a paunch. Haddon, in contrast, possessed a body hewn from stone, not an ounce of fat on him. The thick mane of hair framing his finely sculpted features was the color of freshly turned earth in the spring, with no hint of a receding hairline.
‘Wicked Again’ by Kathleen Ayers
Haddon tugged at the sheet covering her breasts, clearly determined to expose her body to the morning light.
Marissa was firmly against such a thing. True, her waist was still slim and she’d only a bit of gray in her hair, but she was the mother to two grown sons and thrice widowed to boot. Portions of her body were no longer the perfection they’d been in her youth. She’d noticed, much to her horror, that her bosom, once a wonder to behold, sagged. The previous evening she’d been fortunate to have had wine and the cloak of darkness to boost her bravado. Not so, this morning.
She clasped the linen more securely in her fists.
“Why do you insist on hiding from me? I humored you by dousing the lamp last night, but I find I’m not so tolerant this morning.” Haddon lay on his stomach, entirely naked, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.
Marissa started to reply but then a streak of sunlight fell across the expanse of Haddon’s back, drawing her attention to the hard curves of his buttocks and thighs.
It was very difficult to look away, let alone answer him.
A trail of dark hair shadowed his chiseled jawline, giving Haddon a slightly disreputable look. He possessed high cheekbones that demanded attention but only until one caught sight of the silver in his eyes. A most unusual color, like the underside of the moon in the night sky. His eyes were slightly tipped at the corners and framed by lashes most women would envy. Haddon was incredibly attractive and much more exotic looking than any gentleman born and bred in Derbyshire should be.
“I’m no longer a young girl,” she reminded him needlessly, acutely aware of her age in comparison to his.
“No. You aren’t.” Another sharp pull of the sheet revealed the tops of her nipples. “I find you to be well-aged. Like a giant wheel of cheese. Cheddar, perhaps. My favorite, as it happens.”
Marissa giggled. “You equate me to a fine cheddar? I think I’d rather be compared to French wine or brandy. Even a good cider would be preferable.”
“Ah, yes, you do possess a delicious aroma now that I think of it.” He nuzzled the side of her hip. “I wonder if you taste as good as you smell?” The dark head disappeared beneath the sheet. A moment later the heat of his mouth traveled down one thigh, nibbling at the hollow of her knee as he moved between her legs.
Dear Lord.
Haddon made her forget everything but him, which was why she’d awoken this morning with a large, naked male snoring next to her.
‘Wicked Again’ by Kathleen Ayers
His teeth nibbled the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and Marissa’s body jumped in response.
A wicked laugh came from beneath the sheet.
As he nipped his way up the inside of her thigh, Marissa arched back, feeling the response of her body, when she should have been pushing him out the door. Haddon was demanding in bed, taking control of Marissa and her pleasure with breathtaking intensity. Her past lovers were not so robust in their attentions, only mildly satisfying her before taking their leave.
Her fingers twisted in the sheets of the bed as Haddon’s ministrations sent small pricks of bliss rippling across her body. The pressure built slowly from the teasing pressure of his tongue until Marissa found herself rocking her hips into his waiting mouth.
Dear Lord, but he was skilled.
Haddon reached up with one large hand and palmed her breast, the callouses on his fingers adding to the sensation. Seeking out her nipple, he rolled the peak between his thumb and forefinger as his mouth moved against her. Haddon carefully drew out her response until a tortured moan escaped her lips.
An insistent rap sounded at the door. The doorknob twisted.
No. No.
Haddon flung one of her legs over his shoulder, spreading her wider, unconcerned that someone clearly sought entrance to her room.
A fist banged against the wood.
“I don’t need my fire lit,” she said in a strained voice, cursing the efficiency of the servants at Brushbriar and their determination to perform their duties.
Haddon’s chuckle was a low hum against her skin.
“Mother.” An annoyed baritone sounded from the other side of the door. “I need to speak to you. Now. Open the door.”
Marissa sat up in surprise, her body crying out in frustration. Swatting at Haddon’s shoulders, she wiggled to get away from him. “Stop,” she hissed in a whisper. “Brendan is at the door.” What was her son doing demanding entry at this hour in the morning?
About Kathryn Ayers
Kathleen Ayers is the bestselling author of steamy Regency and Victorian romance. She’s been a hopeful romantic and romance reader since buying Sweet Savage Love at a garage sale when she was fourteen while her mother was busy looking at antique animal planters. She has a weakness for tortured, witty alpha males who can’t help falling for intelligent, sassy heroines.
A Texas transplant (from Pennsylvania) Kathleen spends most of her summers attempting to grow tomatoes (a wasted effort) and floating in her backyard pool with her two dogs, husband and son. When not writing she likes to visit her “happy place” (Newport, RI.), visit wine bars, make homemade pizza on the grill, and perfect her charcuterie board skills.
