The Cheeky Minx

by Farmer, Merry

  “You haven’t hurt me,” she said in a small voice. Immediately, she blushed and looked guilty. “Well, perhaps a bit the other day. But I had my share of fun as well.”

  He looked down at her as though she were something incomprehensible. Then, without further warning, he slanted his mouth over hers in a kiss. It wasn’t the rough, punishing kiss she expected either. It was insistent, almost desperate, and deep. He parted her lips with his tongue then slipped in to explore her. His body took on an entirely different sort of tension as he pressed over her. Instead of the jagged tightness of anger, his body was warm and taut with desire.

  She closed her arms around him, opening her hips and lifting one knee so that he could rest deeper in the cradle of her body. She brushed her hands across his back, sliding one hand up to thread through his hair. All the while, he kissed her, a deep rumble of pleasure sounding from low in his throat. The sound sent spirals of need through her, relighting the flames that his frustration had almost doused.

  He raked one hand down her side while balancing with his other arm. He brushed the side of her breast before reaching lower. For a moment, Jo had the impression he wanted to reach between them, to stroke her sex the way he had before, but their bodies were twined together and she wasn’t willing to give up the feeling of his flesh fully against hers.

  At last, he broke away from her mouth, leaving her fluid and ready. He gazed down at her, brushing a lock of her hair off her cheek. “My God,” he murmured. “You’re beautiful.”

  Jo didn’t know what to say. Her body ached for him. She felt completely sensual and utterly at his mercy. His hot staff pressed against her inner thigh, and all she wanted was for him to be inside of her. She was certain that need was painted in every line of her face and that she looked as hungry for him as the most common courtesan.

  “I have only one more thing to ask you,” he said, sliding his hips against hers and stroking her with his length once more. He kissed her cheek, her neck, nibbled her earlobe. He lifted enough to close a hand fully over one of her breasts, teasing her nipple with his thumb.

  “Ask,” she sighed, unable to form more words than that.

  “We’re not married yet,” he said, bending down to lick her pulse, then her lips. “Do you want me to spend in the sheets to protect you or do you want me to come inside you.”

  The question alone sent Jo so close to the edge of orgasm that she felt as though she might go mad. “Inside me,” she panted, arching her hips against him. “Always inside me.”

  He groaned victoriously in response, then rocked back. When he surged forward once more it was not teasing or tempting. He guided himself to her entrance and pushed in, fast and hard, lodging himself deep.

  Jo gasped at the sharp pain his thrust caused. He felt too big for her, too impossibly thick. She tensed and made a quick sound of protest, but he stayed firmly within her. He caressed her as well, stroking her sides and making soft soothing sounds between kisses. And within a scant heartbeat, what started off as shocking and uncomfortable quickly turned arousing.

  “You’re inside of me,” she gasped, flexing her hips and squeezing her inner muscles, just to be sure.

  “I am,” he said in a strained voice. “It feels divine.”

  Jo wasn’t so sure it felt divine for her, until he started to move. His thrusts were slow and shallow at first, creating just enough friction to feel interesting. The pain subsided to a dull ache, which took on an entirely different nature. It spread through her, coiling the tension tighter and tighter inside of her. But it was the sounds he made, low, soft sounds of pleasure that came from somewhere deep within her, in time to his increasing thrusts. They swirled around her, sinking deep into her heart. He was enjoying her. She had the power to give him pleasure, even passively.

  She began to make her own sounds of pleasure in time to his thrusts as her body prepared for release. Instead of feeling too big inside of her, the way he stretched and filled her became intimate and arousing. She dug her fingertips into his back as his thrusts took on a frantic pace. That wasn’t enough, so she lowered her hands to his backside, pressing her nails into his flesh.

  With a gasp, he tensed and groaned. Warmth filled her as her body crashed into orgasm a moment later. It was an entirely new feeling to come with him lodged deep within her, to milk his stiff length even as his tension began to ebb and his body to relax above hers. His final groan of pleasure was rich and sated. She kept her legs locked around him until her throbbing stopped. Then the two of them simply lay where they were, hot, sweating, and joined in a tangle of limbs. As Jo closed her eyes, a smile on her face, she thanked every bit of bad luck that had brought her and Lord Lichfield together.

  Chapter 7

  Felix lay on his back in bed, one arm tucked behind his head, resting on the pillow. A lazy smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t have stopped it if he’d tried. Because he wasn’t alone in bed long after the act was done, for a change. Josephine snoozed, tucked against his side, her cheek nestled against his shoulder and her hand splayed over his heart.

  “I just want you.”

  Those words, said in such an innocent, artless way, would never leave his heart as long as he lived. There was absolutely no logical reason why Josephine should have said such a thing to him. They barely knew each other. She thought he’d stolen the Chandramukhi Diamond. She’d seen the accessories to his sins. Hellfire, she’d experienced his wickedness personally. Still, all she wanted was him. And she had wanted him. She’d been wet and feverish, and when he’d taken her, she rode out the loss of her virginity to come in dazzling style just as he spilled into her. That kind of reaction wasn’t artifice. It wasn’t particularly sane either. But it was real, of that he was certain beyond anything he’d ever known.

  He would make certain they were married by the end of the week. His title could buy him a special license in the minimum amount of time. They didn’t have to have a grand ceremony. As soon as the marriage was announced in The Times, he would send the word ringing through London that Lord Lichfield was permanently out of the game. There were dozens of doms ready to take his place, and none of the women who had wasted their time with him had given even a sliver of their hearts away to him anyhow. His presence in the dark corners of society wouldn’t be missed.

  Josephine stirred, stretching out of her nap in a way that caused her body to slide against his enticingly. His resting cock instantly snapped awake with her.

  “Oh, dear,” she said, tensing and attempting to sit. “What is the time?”

  “It is time to tangle yourself in your future husband’s embrace,” Felix said, pulling her back down to the mattress with him. He rolled to his side, wedging his leg between hers and lifting her thigh over his hip. “I haven’t finished loving you yet.”

  “You haven’t?” she asked, blinking into a wide-eyed, awed stare.

  “No,” he told her, leaning in to kiss her soundly, breaking the kiss only to add, “Not if you still think I’m a dastardly diamond thief.”

  He kissed her again before she could say anything. She sighed with a combination of enjoyment and surprise that had his cock hardening further. Her mouth was soft and pliable under his, and she let him plunder her with abandon. She couldn’t have had much experience kissing, but already he could tell she was a fast learner. It was in her eagerness, the way she clearly enjoyed every liberty he took with her.

  He had just closed one hand around her breast and was about to work her nipple into a peak before shifting to suckle it when she tensed and pulled back. His heart crashed to his feet in the fear that she’d changed her mind about being the minx he needed her to be.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, cursing himself for sounding so vulnerable.

  Instead of answering him with words, she wriggled away from him and pushed back the covers to expose most of their naked bodies. Then she lifted inexplicably to her knees and grabbed hold of his hip. She pulled him until he was face down, ass up, and t
hen she sighed in relief.

  “No birthmark,” she said, as happy as she was relieved, patting his right cheek.

  Felix laughed, utterly baffled by her actions. “Were you hoping for some sort of mark?”

  “No,” she said, sounding exceptionally earnest. “But now I know beyond a shadow of a doubt you are not the diamond thief.”

  Felix laughed harder, rolling back to his side and pulling her down so that her back fit against his chest. “How do you know?” He wedged his leg between her thighs again and resumed playing with her breast.

  Josephine hummed and squirmed against him before answering. “The diamond thief has a birthmark of a half-moon on his bottom. Rebecca, Caro, and I saw it.”

  Felix tensed. “How? When? Why would the diamond thief show you his ass?”

  “He didn’t,” she said, twisting to look at him over her shoulder as best she could. She opened her mouth, paused before saying anything, closed her mouth, thought for a moment, then tried again. “There are secret passageways running through the house owned by the East India Company. As it happens, there is an entrance to those passageways in the room I share with Caro and we used to share with Rebecca. We’ve spent quite a good deal of time in those passageways, observing the goings on in many of the rooms of the house.”

  A rush of dread flooded Felix. He knew damn well what went on in those rooms. Hell, he’d availed himself of the private spaces a time or two himself, and not that long ago. For all he knew, his sweet, innocent wife-to-be had witnessed him rutting with one or the other of Khan’s party guests.

  “Did you—”

  “We saw the diamond thief,” she rushed on, so fast—and without looking at him—that it all but confirmed she’d seen him misbehaving. At least he hadn’t done more than a quick slap and suck at any of Khan’s entertainments for months now. “Well, Rebecca did. But she told us every detail. He was deeply engaged with a woman who we suspect was Miss Dobson,” Josephine went on, adding a revolted sound to the end of her words.

  “Not a sight I would care to see,” Felix agreed, happy to move on from anything that would paint him in a bad light, much though he probably deserved it.

  “We don’t know for certain as the woman’s gown concealed her upper half.” Josephine twisted to face him again. “And the man was facing away from Rebecca. Which is how she had a distinct view of his bottom and its birthmark.”

  Felix could only imagine. “How do you know he was the thief?”

  Josephine flushed and looked beautifully scandalized. “Apparently, he spoke about it. Rebecca swears he said that he should have—” she paused to giggle, “—should have inserted the diamond into the woman’s cunny so that she could have simply walked out of the house without it being detected.”

  Felix smirked. “What a charming bit of vulgarity. It would have worked, though.”

  “Would it?” Josephine asked. “Wouldn’t the diamond have slipped out?”

  “Not if an effort was made to hold it within.”

  She seemed to contemplate that for a moment. Felix took advantage of her silence to resume his intimate study of her body. He wanted to learn every inch of her, feel her body’s response to his touch in every spot, so that he could figure out how best to pleasure her. In a way, it was like starting all over again. He’d spent so long with women who found their pleasure in pain that he had to relearn the purity of coupling for its own sake.

  Her skin was deliciously soft, warm, and carried a uniquely feminine scent. When he was satisfied that her nipples would remain pebbled, at least for a while, he brushed his fingers down over her belly, eliciting a shiver from her.

  “Ooh, that feels good,” she gasped, wriggling her backside against him.

  His cock twitched at the rush of sensation her movements gave him. It settled nicely into the cleft of her backside as it hardened even more.

  “Does it?” he asked, lazy and teasing. “How about this?”

  He delved into her curls, sinking his fingers into her folds and stroking what he found there. She let out a sound of pleasure and strained against him, but he didn’t increase the intensity of his touch. He’d brought her to orgasm in a rush, after spanking her, and through penetration—which still surprised him. Now he wanted to lead her on a slow, heady journey to the most powerful orgasm she’d ever had.

  Josephine, of course, had other plans.

  “You’re so good at this,” she said, nearly squealed, with pleasure. “Why would you ever choose to spank a woman to arouse her?”

  He stopped, a cold shiver passing through him. An odd lump formed in his throat, and his heart beat harder with anxiety. “Would you like to know how it started?”

  “Yes, please,” she said, twisting once again to look over her shoulder at him.

  He kept his hand firmly buried in her pussy, stroking softly as he explained. “It was an accident. I was—” he cleared his throat, “—visiting with a woman.”

  “A lover,” Josephine said.

  “I was young,” he said in affirmation. “It’s something most young noblemen with too much money and too little occupation do.”

  “Understood,” she said, oddly without judgment.

  “As I said,” he continued, “I was with a woman, and I’m not precisely certain how it happened, but as we were both undressing, we collided in such a way that my hand made sharp contact with her backside.”

  Josephine arched an eyebrow at him doubtfully.

  “I swear on my life, it was an accident,” he said, raising one hand as if taking an oath. “I began to apologize, but the woman asked me to do it again. Then again.” He sighed. “Before I knew it, I had her turned over my knee, her backside bright red, and all the while she squealed and cried ‘Papa, I’ll be good, I promise.’”

  Josephine blinked. “Something about that doesn’t sound quite right.”

  “It wasn’t,” he admitted. “But as I have since discovered, there are a great many women in the world—some you would never suspect—who harbor a visceral need to be punished and humiliated. To be honest, I don’t understand it.”

  “You don’t?” She twisted until she lay on her back and was better able to study his face.

  He shrugged. “Not one bit.”

  “But it still arouses you,” she said.

  A pinch of guilt hit him. “I don’t think my dominance or their humiliation is what arouses me.”

  “No? What then?”

  His mouth twitched into a lopsided, somewhat sheepish grin. “Naked women. Wet, naked women. Knowing what’s in it for me after they’ve climaxed.”

  Once again, she arched an eyebrow at him as if she didn’t believe a word he said. “It must be more than that.”

  “I truly don’t think it is,” he argued.

  “All right,” she said, moving away from him and slipping out of bed. “Shall we put the theory to the test?”

  His heart sped up at the mischief in her eyes. He scooted across the bed, throwing his legs around the side and standing. “What do you have in mind?” At that moment, he would have done anything Josephine told him to do.

  Her grin turned downright wicked. “Face the bed. Legs apart. Bend forward,” she said in a perfect imitation of the tone and force he’d used when he said the exact same words.

  Damn him if her command didn’t send the blood that had drifted away while they talked right back to his cock. He eyed her cagily, but slowly moved to do as she said. He moved his feet apart and leaned forward, propping his arms on the bed and presenting his ass to her. His cock ached as it hung slightly away from his body, hard and heavy.

  “Let’s see,” Josephine said impishly as she crossed behind him. “How best to go about the test.”

  “You don’t have the black streak within you that is necessary for this sort of play,” he told her as she reached the foot of the bed.

  “Don’t I?” She met his eyes challengingly before reaching into the trunk where he’d been packing away his toys and drew out the ridin
g crop.

  His groin tightened in a response that shocked him with its strength. A strange sense of shame followed hard on its heels. Instead of feeling distaste or nothing at all, he caught himself wondering if she could strike him hard enough to make a difference.

  The uncomfortable feeling of shame intensified when she lashed out, cracking the leather of the crop across his ass with only a mild sting. Shame because he’d wanted it to hurt much more than it had.

  “See, you don’t have what it takes,” he said, purposefully contemptuous. “You’re far too sweet and ignorant to—”

  She struck him harder—hard enough for him to lose his train of thought. The sting of the blow remained, even as she tilted to the side in an attempt to get a look at his face.

  “You aren’t going to be able to—”

  She smacked him again, hard enough for his whole body to flinch. And then again with a force that made him so hard he felt he was in danger of coming across the coverlet. But he deserved it. He could feel it in his deepest core. He deserved to be punished for all the horrible things he’d done to all the women who had sought him out over the years. He deserved to get what he’d given. Even more than that, he deserved every bit of the complicated clash of arousal and shame that clawed at him. It wasn’t just the pain of the blow—and he cried out with far too much pleasure at her next, sharp swat—that he deserved to feel to the marrow of his bones, it was the emotional agony of harboring something dark and conflicted within him. Maybe, if he could feel the inner pain physically, he could release it and be free of it forever.

  Josephine brought the riding crop down with what felt like her full strength, sending searing pain through his ass. At the same time, the impossibly tight ball of energy that had built behind his balls began to surge.

  “Oh, God,” he gasped. “I’m coming.”

  “Oh,” Josephine gasped. She moved quickly, rushing forward and under him to close her free hand around his aching cock.