by Golden Angel
How much of a difference could there be? Perhaps he should seek advice from Arabella as well. She was in a loving marriage and knew Mary besides. While she would also tease him, it would be no worse than any of his other friends would do. Seeking advice elsewhere did not appeal. Rex already hated feeling so unsure of himself, the idea of any of the Society knowing his insecurity was intolerable. They considered him their leader, looked up to him, and trusted him. None of them would be the right confidant for this. Indeed, he was not sure Arabella was, either, but his options were few, and she seemed the best of them.
A soft rapping at his door had him frowning. Certainly, not Cormack or Mrs. Maple. Mary perhaps? Sitting up straight, setting his feet on the floor where they belonged, he took a moment to compose himself.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Mary slipped into the room, pausing and leaving the door half-open. Good manners had him rising to his feet. Now that he was looking at her properly, in a way he had not done on their ride home, he could see penitence expressed in every line of her body—hands clasped in front of her, resting on the green muslin of her skirt, shoulders slightly hunched, face pinched with worry and regret. Rex tapped one finger against his desk as he contemplated the picture she made, hovering just inside his door.
“I said, come in, Mary.” He nodded to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Eyes still downcast, she closed the door behind her before coming forward and sitting down in the chair on the right, and Rex found his seat again. Elbows on the desk, he leaned forward, contemplating her appearance. That she had come to him boded well, did it not? Perhaps the connection, the emotions he had felt between them were not entirely of his own making.
If she had truly only interacted with him because she had to, because Miss Stuart had asked her to, would she be so repentant now? It would make more sense if she was relieved to no longer have to playact, or if she were mildly apologetic but expecting him to understand her motives, given they were dealing with possible treason. He was hurt because his emotions were engaged, so it only made sense she was so remorseful because hers were as well.
Though she did not love him yet, it seemed a promising sign, did it not?
“I need to apologize to you,” she said the words formally, like a rehearsed speech. Had she been planning her apology ever since they returned home? That was certainly not the act of someone who did not care. Raising her eyes to his, he could see the misery in her guileless gaze. “While it was not my secret to share, through my actions, you became involved without knowing. I should have spoken to Evie sooner about including you. I felt you could be trusted, but I said nothing, even after my actions resulted in our marriage.”
Rex silently studied her, though his heart was beginning to race. That was certainly a comprehensive apology.
Mary took a deep breath.
“Therefore, I am here to request a punishment.”
Blinking, Rex stared at her for a moment before realizing he had heard correctly.
“A punishment?” he repeated. That was certainly unexpected. Anticipation rose and roused his ardor along with it. Surely, she would not be requesting a punishment from him, knowing full well what that meant if she did not truly want to make reparations to him. Still, he had to be sure. “You want me to spank you?”
Color rose in her cheeks, turning them pink with embarrassment, but she nodded firmly.
“I have wronged you, and I would like to make amends.” Sincerity rang out in her voice, and his blood rushed southward, heating his desire.
Yes. Not a punishment, but atonement, allowing them to move forward from this with a new start. That was how the Society handled such things, though Rex had never had a woman bound to him in a manner which would require such an act.
“Very well.” He pushed back his chair, so there would be enough space for her between himself and the desk and patted his thigh. “Come here and put yourself over my lap.”
Mary
As much as she felt she deserved this, Mary quailed slightly at the order. It was so much easier when Rex led the way than when she had to do something herself, especially when what she had to do was present herself for punishment. Still, she forced herself to her feet and around his desk. This had been her idea, and she did not regret it, especially if it meant things could return to some semblance of what they had been before the visit to Hyde Park.
Rex watched her with hooded eyes. Expecting her to bolt? Pressing her lips together, Mary gathered her courage, set aside her pride, and placed herself over his lap. She sighed as she settled atop his thighs, feeling his body so closely pressed against hers, the bulge of his cock pushing into her side.
He could not remain so cold and aloof after this, could he?
She did not have much time to worry. Rex lifted her skirts, tucking them up around her waist, and the cool air over her skin sent a shiver through her. Between her legs, interest stirred, though her anxiety kept it from growing.
One large, warm palm rested on her upturned buttocks.
“Do you understand why you are being punished?” The hand on her bottom squeezed slightly, the questioning bringing her back to her first encounter with him in this house, in this very room. The sense of déjà vu was strong, except now, Mary did not balk at his question.
“Because I lied, kept secrets, and unintentionally drew you into my endeavors, resulting in a marriage you had not asked for, after which I still did not confide in you.” The words came out in a rush; her answer had been ready. Mary was not the type to flinch from her culpability.
To her surprise, Rex chuckled. “To be fair, I have no objection to the marriage.”
Not even after today? She did not get a chance to ask the question. Before she could do more than register her surprise, Rex’s hand came down hard, the stinging slap eliciting a startled yelp. As soon as one had landed, another followed, swat after swat raining down on her upturned cheeks while she writhed and shrieked in response.
His arm wrapped round her waist like an iron band, holding her firmly in place when her legs began to kick.
This hurt so much more than the last time.
That or she had forgotten exactly how much it had hurt before. The blistering heat was growing exponentially, searing her skin with every new slap, the sound of flesh against flesh cracking through the air. Mary cried out, her legs kicking harder as tears spilled over. Clutching Rex’s leg, she clung to his ankle for support, rocking slightly over his lap as the urge to escape his fiery discipline grew.
“I’m sorry!” she shrieked, knowing she had already apologized but unable to hold them back—anything to make the spanking stop sooner. It felt like her bottom was swollen, throbbing, glowing red hot under the chastening. “Michael… Rex, I’m sorry!”
She bucked.
Two more slaps came down hard on her sit spots, the sensitive skin just under the curve of her bottom where it met her thigh, and she wailed. That hurt even more than any of the other swats combined.
She barely had the chance to catch her breath when the spanking stopped, and she was lifted up and set upon the desk. The wood was cool against her blazing skin, but only momentarily. She cried out as the pressure of her body’s weight resting upon her chastised cheeks only increased her torment.
Standing between her thighs, Rex pulled her forward by her hips, his mouth crashing down on hers. Somehow, his pants were opened, his cock nudging the entrance to her body while his lips claimed her. Mary reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he thrust in deep and hard.
Hot and wet, her body was ready for him, accepting the rough thrust, though the sudden stretching stung as well. Compared to the agonized throbbing of her spanked bottom, the pain barely registered. Whimpering, she kissed him back, unable to lift her hips in this position, but her muscles clenched around him, pleasuring them both.
Feeling him moving inside her, the slick length of his cock driving deep with every thrust, Mary’s bod
y responded with pure passion. The pleasure of their coupling tangled with the torment of being disciplined, creating a new, wicked coil of sensations. She was ablaze with need, not just physically, but the need for Rex to forgive her, to absolve her, and to feel intimate with him again.
Their movements were frenzied, almost frantic, and she hoped she sensed the same need in him that she felt.
Ecstasy surged with his thrusts, and she cried out, head falling back as rapture spiraled uncontrollably. Hot bliss unraveled inside of her, coiling and circling until she exploded in dizzying euphoria. Rex thrust hard, filling her completely, then his arms wrapped around her, holding her close as his own climax throbbed through him, emptying into her. They held each other tightly, panting for breath.
Mary’s bottom still burned, but she felt far more hopeful. What had been broken was not yet mended, but it was a start.
Chapter 21
Rex
Writing out a full list of the members of the Society, Rex shook his head in wonderment. It was a very long list, mostly, but not entirely confined to the ton.
“My goodness… really?” Mary’s finger paused beside a duke’s name, and Rex chuckled. They had their heads bent over the list, with her perched on his lap behind his desk. The punishment had done exactly what it should—cleared the air and allowed them to come back together.
While part of Rex still remained wary, he liked having Mary on his lap, and she seemed to want to be there. Whatever he could do to tie her emotions and loyalties more fully to him, he would.
“We all have our vices.” Cocking his head at the list, he pressed his lips together. “Not everyone attends every event, of course. Some of them are not even in town at the moment.”
Pursing her lips, Mary’s expression turned thoughtful. “Well, we cannot investigate those who are not in town, but we should keep them in mind, nonetheless.”
“I wish I knew what evidence Stuart had that anyone in the Society is even involved,” Rex muttered. There was a small ball of indignation still pressing in the center of his chest over that. The Society was built on trust. If any of them were involved, he would feel it a personal affront. He had approved every single member’s addition to the club. Mistakes like Julian Mitchell still smarted, but his behavior with the maid, while reprehensible, was not on the same level as assassination and treason. Though, of course, already knowing he had been a mistake made him a much more appealing prospect as a possible traitor than anyone else in the Society.
“There might not be evidence,” Mary said absentmindedly, still scanning the list. “From what Evie has told me, her uncle spends as much time chasing down gossip and whispers that turn out to be nothing as he does those which are viable. There is no way to know until he has investigated which is which.”
That made sense, which slightly mollified Rex. Stuart would have to investigate every whisper when it came to matters of treason, but not all of them would be true. Rex thought it far more likely, the Society was an easy target for gossip than a member of the Society would actually prove to be part of a plot against the crown.
If it even was a plot against the crown.
“Why York?” he asked aloud. Pausing, Mary sat up straight and turned her head to face him, brow wrinkling.
“What do you mean?”
“Why the Duke of York?” Rex drummed his fingers against the desk. “He is not directly in line for the throne. He is vital to the trade negotiations with the French, but there was no upheaval prior to their visit, and the talks are going well—as they were expected to. There was no reason for them to undermine the proceedings before they arrived, and there is even less so now. So, why York? Because someone wants the negotiations to fail? But why?”
“Who is harmed by their success?” Mary murmured, leaning back against him, soft and snuggly. Rex curled his arm around her waist, tightening it, and she squirmed. Likely, her arse was still sore from her spanking. She sighed. “There are too many variables. The Russian delegation should not be threatened, but who can say how they view the matter. The English should be happy trade routes will become more stable.”
“Except for smugglers,” Rex mused. They both paused, the words hitting home, and Mary sat bolt upright.
Mary
“Smugglers…” During the war, smuggling had practically been an English pastime. Even around her home, where there was no coastline, smuggling had been romanticized in the same way highwaymen were. While most smugglers were just trying to get by, depending on the cargo, fortunes could have been made.
Not only that, but certain cargo—human cargo, actual spies—had also been smuggled in and out of both France and England. She pressed her lips together. There were still too many variables, but Rex’s theory was sound.
“Do you know of anyone in the Society who has a connection to smugglers?” she asked. Rex snorted.
“No, but they would not admit to it if they did,” he pointed out. His arm tightened around her as he leaned forward. Her bottom was still sore, and her body had been completely satisfied by their coupling, but she enjoyed his hold for the sheer pleasure of having him touching her so intimately. “However, we can pinpoint who has holdings along the coast. It would not be definitive, but it might be a lead, especially if we can narrow other factors.”
A knock at the door had their heads swinging up. Mary tried to jump up from Rex’s lap, but his arm refused to budge.
“Come in,” he said, ignoring her wriggling.
“Rex!” She hissed his name, but he ignored her as Cormack opened the door and stepped inside. Mary wanted to throw her hands up in the air. Why she thought he would care about the proprieties, she had no idea.
“The Earl of Devon is here to see you, my lord,” Cormack said formally, his eyes twinkling, though he pretended he did not see Mary trapped on Rex’s lap. At least he knew how to behave.
She felt the change in Rex, his sudden relaxation followed swiftly by renewed tension.
“Put him in the library,” Rex said. “I will be there momentarily.” Cormack nodded and stepped back outside, closing the door behind him. Rex’s arm tightened around her, then released, allowing her to stand. He did as well, rising to his feet, an air of reluctance hanging about him. “I am sorry, petal, I would not allow him to interrupt our day if it was not important.”
“I know,” she reassured him. Mary was well aware Rex had wanted the earl standing beside him at their wedding. Unfortunately, neither she nor Evie had brought up the earl’s name in conjunction with their investigations, and she did not feel up to doing so now on her own. Mary did not want to disrupt the fragile peace hanging delicately in the balance between her and her husband, but she did not want to continue hiding anything from him either. “Rex…”
He was already moving away.
“I will return shortly,” he said, hurrying to the door, glancing over his shoulder before he exited. “I would ask you to come with me to meet Lucas, but he has… not been himself lately. I will bring him back here to meet you if I can.”
He was gone before Mary could stop him. Though, if she was honest with herself, she had not tried very hard. Grimacing, she wondered if she dared follow Rex to listen in on the conversation. Her already sore bottom throbbed.
No, probably not.
He trusted her to remain here, so she would have to trust him. Pressing her lips together, her eyes drifted back to the list he had made. At the very least, she could start writing down everything she knew about the various members of the Society. Last Season, she had compiled a surprising amount of information from listening to conversations.
Rex
“You had better be here to apologize for missing my wedding.” Striding into the library, Rex’s gaze found and fixed Lucas with a stern look before his expression turned to one of concern. Lucas had seen better days.
While there were times when he turned up looking disreputable, now he appeared dilapidated. The stubble on his jawline looked to be several days growth, his chee
ks appeared hollower than usual, and the dark bags beneath his eyes were heavily pronounced. He was sprawled in one of the great chairs in front of the fireplace, but not as though he were posing, as he would have done in the past, but more like he did not have the energy to stand. The clothes he was wearing were clean but wrinkled, his cravat drooping, his collar unpressed. Rex had never seen him in such a state. Not even after his parents passed.
“What is wrong?” Rex demanded, concern flooding him. He hurried forward, but Lucas held up his hand, bringing Rex to a halt a few feet away.
“I am sorry for missing your wedding,” Lucas drawled. His lopsided smile was only a little sardonic. “Believe me, it was for the best. I hardly look presentable at the moment.”
Frowning, Rex sat down in the chair across from Lucas, leaning forward.
“Tell me what is going on,” he demanded, irritability starting to rise again. It seemed Lucas was still his usual self, no matter how unkempt he looked. “Where the devil have you been?”
“Around.” Lucas waved his hand vaguely. “As for what is wrong, it is the same as before. I need money, Rex.” Meeting Rex’s eyes, his quiet desperation pulled at Rex’s conscious far more than his dramatics at their previous meeting. “I need it now.”
“Tell me why you need it, and you can have it.”
Closing his eyes, Lucas pressed his lips together. Rex could practically see Lucas’ internal struggle, trying to decide whether or not to explain.
“Just tell me, Lucas. You know I will help you,” Rex said quietly… urgently. Whatever was wrong with his friend, it had to be serious.