The Mischievous Marquess by Anne Shaw

Author:Anne Shaw
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, historical romance, gay romance, bicuriuos romance, bisexual romance, Victorian Romance, Nicola Davidson, Julia Quinn
Publisher: Anne Shaw
Published: 2021-06-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Lord Grey Greyson, Viscount Greyson

I paced the small space of the church vestibule. Sunshine showed through the stained-glass window. The faint sound of birds chirping in the orchard just outside the walls could be heard, as well as muted voices. I was both excited and nervous about the upcoming event. The wedding ceremony boasted less than fifty guests, small by design, however, I would be forced to speak in front of them.

The door creaked open and I lifted my chin, my heart swelling at the sight of Pelton. He looked stunning in a pale grey suit, the color accenting his eyes. The door shut with a soft click, the silence following the sound deafening. I clenched and unclenched my hands, wishing to reach out to him but unable to do so.

“You look very dapper Greyson.” Pelton approached, a hint of his soap drifting to me.

I inhaled, wishing I could bury my nose in his neck and feel his arms around me. “As do you. I like the pearl vest; it flatters your smile.” And lips. Ones I ached to kiss.

“In a few short minutes, we will both be married.” He held out his hand and I foolishly took it, helpless to stop myself. Liquid eyes held mine and he stepped backward. I followed, a sense of panic rioting inside my head. While I had reconciled myself to my marriage to Zinnia, the finality of the moment hit me full force. He halted, his back against the door, sadness reflecting in his grim smile. “Once we make that vow, we can never do this again.”

The vulnerability in his statement lowered my defenses. Swallowing the guilt such an action evoked, I closed the space separating us. My life with Zinnia would begin in earnest and although I could hardly wait, a part of me mourned what I had with Pelton. I cupped his chin, my mouth finding his questing one. The rawness of our kiss sent my pulse pounding, want and need rising like an ocean wave. I swept my tongue into his welcoming mouth, drinking in his essence. He gripped my arse, fingers drawing my hips into his. I grinded my cock against his heat, desire erupting in a familiar rush. Mouth leaving his, I trailed kisses down his neck, remembering his scent and the way he tasted under my swirling tongue.

“Greyson, I—” he bit the words off, his fingers skimming down my belly.

My need increased at the first touch of his finger on my growing cock. I sucked on his neck, biting the column. The church clock chimed the hour.

One o’clock.

Breath coming in gasps, I stepped back. It was time for our wedding. At any moment, my father would be coming back to fetch me. “You had best fix your ascot.”

I lifted a hand to my hair, my mind a blur of emotions. How could I lose control like this? I was about to get married and yet I kissed him. I was a shameless lout. Zinnia was across

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