Page 46 of Prescription for Sin

His hand went to his falls to secure the buttons when her hand stopped him. “I don’t think it’ll fit back in your breeches in that state, Dr Moreland.” Her voice was sweet but wicked at the same time.

He met her gaze that sparkled with mischief and quirked a brow.

Wordlessly, she dropped to her knees.

“What…?” He choked on the words, his mouth going dry in an instant.

“This is a lesson in taste, no?” With these words, Emma swallowed the tip of his cock, the heat from her mouth soothing the incessant ache. She gripped his thighs, her fingers pressing into his thick muscles. She moaned appreciatively, sending tremors through his cock.

Everett lost all sense of propriety when her tongue darted out, licking his tip in a soothing rhythm.

“Bloody hell, Emma. God, that feels so good,” he moaned the words.

Bracing his hands against a chair, he lowered his head just in time to see her mouth sliding over the length of his rigid shaft, sending a shock of pleasure through him. Then she looked up at him; those innocent blue eyes transformed into something darker and wicked.

“Fuck, Emma,” he rasped helplessly.

With a crooked smile, she swallowed his rod until his cockhead reached the back of her throat. With a groan, he tilted his head back, closing his eyes as pleasure surged, leaving him breathless. She began to slide her mouth over his marble-like rod. The heat, the tantalising friction, the vision of her lovely lips stretching around his thick girth created a perfect dance to push him toward climax.

Placing his large hand at the back of her head, he guided her rhythm to his hips’ movements, pushing against her throat as her tongue licked his length deliciously. He then stopped abruptly as the dam broke and hot liquid began to flow. Every muscle in his body contracted and overwhelmed him with sensation, the euphoria cresting again and again, until he stilled, his hand on her head and his half-erect cock in her mouth. Emma had swallowed every last drop of his essence, and this was more arousing than he thought possible.

Everett released a sequence of blasphemy for how good that was, then helped her rise to her feet. Quickly fastening his falls, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue.

“You’re perfect,” he rasped as he slowed the kiss and brushed his lips against hers.

“I’m still angry with you,” she said without any bite.

He chuckled, his baritone rumbling low in his chest. “I’m afraid you’ll have to hate me a little longer. We must be missed by now. Return alone to the concert. I shall find someone to converse with in another parlour.”

With a quick nod, Emma met his gaze, surprising him with sadness in her expression. She then quickly exited the room. Everett stood in the dark for a long while, wondering if his actions would save or doom their relationship, because he had decided he was never letting her go.

Chapter fourteen

The Price of Truth

"Dr Moreland," Wilkins said, carefully adjusting papers that needed no adjustment, "I've served your family for thirty years. Your grandfather trusted me with matters that would have ruined lesser men." His gaze darted to the door before returning to Everett. "But what I've discovered..." He swallowed hard. "Children are dying in the East End. Hundreds of them. And these records show—" He stopped abruptly, rearranging the papers again with trembling hands.

"If the truth came to light," Everett said quietly, "anyone who helped conceal it could face charges."

"Precisely." Wilkins's shoulders sagged with relief at being understood. "I have grandchildren of my own. When I learned about the water quality in the East End..." He straightened suddenly, his professional mask slipping back into place. "I seem to have left these particular documents rather visible on my desk. Most careless of me. I trust that if anyone asks, you'll confirm I was...most discreet about your father's affairs?"

"Of course." Everett studied the stack of financial records Wilkins had so carefully arranged. "No one will know you assisted me unless they ought."

The solicitor nodded once, then busied himself with other papers while Everett began his examination of the evidence that would destroy his family's legacy. Taking advantage of the diversions at the Lullingstone house party, he'd slipped away without his father noticing.

Wilkins’s careful emphasis on certain investment returns, his pointed comments about water company shares hadn’t been subtle. Obviously, Wilkins wanted him to understand something without directly betraying his father’s confidence.

“Lord Salisbury’s solicitor was asking about those same records.” Wilkins had mentioned casually. “Seems very interested in the timing of certain infrastructure projects. Particularly in relation to the cholera outbreak.”

Now, studying the documents more closely, Everett saw what the man had wanted him to notice. The Moreland fortune wasn’t just tied to London Water Works; it was completely dependent on it. Every property deed, every investment, even the mortgages on their London homes used water company shares as collateral.

His mind whirling but his heart numb with shock, Everett left Wilkins’s office in a daze. He had just returned to Lullingstone and settled in his chamber with a glass of brandy when Emma entered without knocking, her expression troubled. Everett held his breath, bracing for the worst.

“Did you know Lord Atkins’s youngest died of cholera last week?” she announced without a preamble.

“What? That’s impossible. They live in Mayfair.”

“Exactly. But according to his nurse, the child had been visiting relatives in Shadwell, one of the neighbourhoods in the East End.”