Chapter 1
Norfolk, England - August, 1813
Marina
MarinaVilliers,ViscountessOckham,drew a slow, measured breath as she lifted her pistol, the polished steel gleaming under the afternoon sun. Her grip was steady, her aim unwavering as she focused on the distant target nestled within the trees. A heartbeat passed. Then another. With a deliberate squeeze of her finger, the shot rang out, shattering the serenity of the clearing.
The acrid scent of gunpowder curled in the air as Evan, her husband, moved to inspect the target. Marina followed, her lips already curving into a victorious smile.
“Bull’s-eye!” Marina exclaimed proudly. “I believe that means I have won.”
“How do you do that?” Evan, Viscount Ockham, ran a hand through his raven-dark hair, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “It is positively unnatural how you never miss.”
Marina surrendered the pistol to him with a knowing smirk. “I had an excellent tutor.”
He examined the firearm before placing it back into its leather case. “The student has far surpassed the tutor.”
Marina smirked at her far-too-handsome husband. “In more ways than one,” she teased.
Evan scoffed, his grin flashing wicked and warm. “Hardly.”
“Is that so?” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur. The heat of the midday sun had nothing on the fire burning between them. And she loved needling her husband, especially when the outcome of such efforts was usually quite pleasurable.
His dark gaze smoldered as he reached for her, his touch possessive, fingers brushing the curve of her waist. “And just who was the one begging for more when I… broke my fast this morning?”
He wasn’t incorrect. Marina’s cheeks flushed with heat from the memory—her body arched beneath his, the sheets tangled around their limbs, his mouth doing wicked things that drove her senseless—sent a shiver down her spine.
“Perhaps I merely wished to boost your confidence,” she countered, shifting to a whisper as she pressed against him. The scent of gunpowder mingled with his cologne consumed her, an intoxicating combination that made her pulse quicken.
Evan chuckled low in his throat. “Is that so? How remarkably generous of you, love.”
Their eyes locked, and the air between them thickened. This place—the secluded clearing where he had first taught her to shoot—had always been theirs. From the first time she saw him, his thick black hair and mysterious dark eyes had entranced her. Their bond was a consuming force, an unbreakable magnetism pulling them together. And now, their special place was their sanctuary, the rest of the world melting away when they stood within those trees.
The wanton memories of their first meeting took over her as she stood before him, unfastening the buttons of his falls. “I’m known for my generosity.”
“Known by whom?” His tone was tinged with a hint of something resembling jealousy. Even if they both knew there would never be another.
“Only you, love,” she replied. Dropping to her knees in the grass, she took his cock in her hand and he sucked in a large breath of air.
“Such a perfect wife,” Evan murmured in that low timbre that never failed to send heat coursing through Marina’s veins.
She licked along the bottom of his shaft before sucking him completely into her mouth, reveling in the salty taste of his skin as she fell into a quick rhythm, bobbing her head on her husband’s cock.
“Fuck,” he moaned, threading his fingers through her hair, dislodging several pins. “I should lose to you more often.”
Marina smiled around him as she worked her tongue along his shaft, shifting to a deliberate slowness, knowing it would drive her husband mad.
Evan’s low groan echoed through the clearing, both hands gripping her head. She looked up at him, and their gazes met. Nothing but love and desire written all over his handsome face. “You’re torturing me,” he whispered, his voice strained as she swirled her tongue around him, her eyes not leaving his.
Marina pulled back and feigned a pout. “Am I?” she teased before kissing the head of his cock.
“Oh, you know exactly what you are doing,” he growled, then reached down and picked her up as if she weighed nothing.
She wrapped her legs around her husband’s waist as his lips came crashing down on hers, walking them to a nearby oak tree. He pressed her back against the rough bark of the trunk as their kissing remained intense and frenzied.
Marina moaned into his mouth as his hands worked at her skirts, bunching the fabric to give him access.
His fingers traced teasing patterns along her inner thigh, inching ever closer to where she ached for him. When his fingers brushed her pearl, she moaned into their kiss.
