by Sahara Kelly
“So who is behind Kanehall Carriages now? Who took over from DuQuesne upon his death?” Max stared at Perry.
“A certain Mr. Dancey Miller-James.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Thank you for your gracious company, Mrs. Chaney. May I hope there will be a next time and that I might persuade you to play for me?” Perry took Grace’s hand and dropped a light kiss on it, making her blush.
“You are too kind, Sir Peregrine,” she responded. “But I would enjoy talking with you again, should you happen to find yourself in the vicinity.”
“You may be sure I shall. Good evening, Ma’am. Miss Ridlington.”
“I’ll see him out,” said Max over his shoulder.
The two gentlemen left the room, and Grace and Kitty stared at each other.
“That was quite a revelation,” said Grace.
“Indeed,” said Kitty. “And I’m still at a loss as to how to connect Miller-James with any of this. Other than his stealing Max’s carriage and damn near killing my sister, what was his involvement? And if he was the perpetrator…no that is completely silly. He wouldn’t risk a damaged carriage to take Hecate off for her seduction. Even he couldn’t be that daft.”
“He might have been, but I doubt it.” Max came back into the room. “We now have an excellent lead to follow, don’t you think?”
Both ladies nodded.
“It’s an odd connection I could never have anticipated,” observed Kitty. “That our investigations have brought us back around to the victim of the accident…”
“Most curious,” agreed Grace, rising from her chair and stepping around the tea table. Perry had stayed for dinner and the four of them had debated the problem, laughed, argued and generally enjoyed a rewarding evening. “But my mind grows tired of trying to find a rational explanation for any of it. Perhaps in the morning…”
“Of course.” Max gave her a hug as she passed.
“Goodnight, Grace. Sleep well.” Kitty sank back into her corner of the sofa. The room was warm, she’d enjoyed a brandy after dinner, rather than share tea with Grace, and the heat from the fire and the liquor united to render her bonelessly relaxed.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Deery stood at the door. “If not, I’ll remove the tray.”
Max shook his head. “Nothing else, Deery, thank you.”
“Very good.” He swiftly retrieved cups and saucers and turned to leave. “Good evening, sir. Miss.”
The door closed softly, closing Max and Kitty into their own world.
“An interesting day, wouldn’t you agree?” Max loosened his cravat and eased his arms out of his jacket, sighing with relief and shaking out his sleeves.
“I would. Without doubt. Confusing, frustrating and surprising are also words I might use.” Following Max’s example, Kitty daringly kicked off her shoes, wiggling her toes with pleasure on the soft carpet.
“Yes, all of that,” sighed Max, stripping off his waistcoat, tossing his cravat on a side table and undoing his shirt.
Kitty watched him, eager for a glimpse of his skin. She wondered why it was so appealing, then there it was and all questions disappeared from her mind as she simply devoured him with her eyes.
He turned, saw her watching him, and tugged his shirt free of his breeches, letting it fall off his shoulders to the floor. “Lie on the sofa, Kitty. On your stomach.”
His voice was firm, and she found herself immediately obeying. Turning her head on the cushion, she saw him lean down to the hearth and pick up the poker. Her heart stopped for a moment or two. “Wha-what are you going to do with that?” She was annoyed to find her voice shaking.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m going to poke the fire.”
“Oh.” Feeling quite stupid, she turned her head the other way to hide her blushes. What she’d actually thought he might do…well, she wasn’t sure. But Max was nothing if not unpredictable.
Sure enough, she heard the sounds of the fire being stirred, followed by the thunk of logs being added.
“Now.” He was next to the sofa. “I want you to pull your skirts up for me.”
Kitty’s cheeks heated once again, but obedient to his command, she reached behind her and gathered handfuls of her gown, easing them up and away from her legs.
“Higher.”
It wasn’t easy, since there were petticoats to be dealt with as well. But she managed. “How is this?”
“You know what I want to see, Kitty. Show me.”
Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and slowly drew up the gathers of material until she felt air brushing her naked buttocks.
“Much better.”
A ringing slap surprised her and she jumped on a little yelp.
“Beautiful.” He caressed the spot with gentle touches. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Not really. You surprised me though.”
“Your arse is perfect, Kitty. Firm, round and so white. Except where my hand struck. There it’s turning red and the contrast is exquisite.”
“Oh.” What else was there to say?
“One more, I think.”
She had little time to brace herself before his hand fell on the other cheek with much the same result. Even though she was expecting something along those lines, the actual contact still made her jump. Now she was heating up, her backside fiery warm, the blood rushing to the sin and nerve endings, and contributing to her arousal…the one that had begun as soon as she bared her bottom to his gaze.
Max moved closer, kneeling perhaps. She didn’t want to turn her head to see, since at this moment she was busy exploring the sensations he’d created. But she could feel him lean over her legs and then the whisper of his breath on one of her buttocks.
A searing lash of heat…his tongue ran across the heated portion of her flesh, leaving an ice cold trail of moisture. It was amazing, exquisite and it made her moan.
“Mmm,” he murmured. “I like the way you taste.” His hands pushed her dress to her waist and then she felt him unfastening the laces between her shoulders. Now it was all loose and he pushed it further upwards. “Raise your head.”
She did so, and he pushed her dress all the way off, piling it beneath her face and trapping her arms next to her body. She couldn’t stop a shiver of excitement from rippling down her naked spine as his fingers stroked her, from the tops of her shoulders all the way down her leg to her heel and then back upward on the other side.
He cupped her buttocks, squeezing gently, making her moan with the wonderfully sensual touches. He pulled them apart slightly, introducing a whole new set of sensations. When he ran his finger down her cleft and touched the most sensitive of muscles, she squeaked. “Max…”
“Shhh.” He soothed her, stroking her back, touching her everywhere, helping her accept and adjust to his hands. “You will let me play with you, Kitty. Wherever and whenever I want.”
“Yes,” she breathed, knowing she was losing herself in the wondrous and erotic experience he created.
Her legs parted in a reflex move, inviting his fingers to wander and play between them. To find the liquids she knew were dappling her flesh, to tease and arouse those secret places and to take her to the pinnacle of physical pleasure.
“Soon, my dear. Be patient.”
She listened as he moved; her hearing acute and tuned to his motions. There…he was unfastening his breeches, and there went his boots. Soft noises of clothing hitting the floor and then he was back beside her, the heat from his naked body reaching all the way to her skin.
To her surprise, his arm slid beneath her hips and lifted her clean off the sofa, whereupon he slid a large bolster between her and the cushions. Not only was she bare and tangled in her clothing, but now her bottom was raised high. Good God. Her face was aflame as she imagined the picture she must be presenting.
The sofa dipped as he clambered between her thighs. “Now, Kitty. Now we can play.”
And play Max did.
He administered more smacks, some soft, som
e harder. The sensation of waiting, to learn what would come next…it drove all other thoughts from her mind. A slap to the top of her thigh made her grunt, but it was followed by Max’s hand finally delving deep between her legs and into the wet silky fire his punishment had elicited.
He smacked her again, his hands damp, and this time the sting of the blow was followed by the chill of his breath as he blew on the tender skin. She burned, inside and out. Her thoughts whirled without direction, as every ounce of her being focused on Max and what he was doing to her body.
He returned again and again to her swollen and sensitive folds, caressing, rubbing, stroking and sliding a finger between them into her darkness.
Her hips moved, her buttocks rose; she felt like an animal in heat, begging for satisfaction.
He touched all the right places, but not for long enough…she wanted to scream at him, to beg him to finish what he had begun. But her throat was clogged with desire and she did not have enough wits left to utter a coherent word.
Then he shifted once more and the deeper depression beneath her legs told her he was kneeling, pushing her thighs wide, making a place for himself between them.
He lifted her off the bolster. “Hands and knees, Kitty. Now.”
Weakly she struggled to obey, relieved that when she did so her damned gown fell away and she could free her arms. The warmth behind her let her know Max was there.
The touch of his cock against her wet flesh made her gasp, and when he rubbed the head through her slick honey and then back and up…up to that little ring of muscles…she had to claw on to the sofa cushions to keep from flying off. “God, Max…”
“Shhh. Relax. I will not take you here. This is just play, Kitty. Trust me.”
She breathed in, still shattered by the strange sensations he was producing with his actions. “I do trust you.”
He leaned over, his body arching, just touching her. “Good girl. I will never hurt you. I will always cherish the trust you have given me. You are mine, Kitty. Remember that. You belong to me.” On those words, Max found her entrance with his cock and pushed inside, slowly, easily sliding into her fire.
He stretched her, in a wonderful way, filling her to completion. And he stopped for a moment, as if he too were surprised by the way their bodies fit together.
“Yes, Max,” she whispered, her voice rough “I belong to you.” She pushed back a little and clenched her inner muscles around him, barely realizing she had done so. “And you belong to me.”
*~~*~~*
He came on a muted roar of release, so deep into Kitty he swore he could feel her heart thundering through the tip of his cock.
Yes, she belonged to him, and yes, his mind dimly accepted that he belonged to her. They were one, flying together through a mysterious and violent abyss of pleasure, only to collapse as it crashed back to earth, a tangled mess of limbs.
As he slithered off Kitty’s back and helped her tumble into his arms, his mind awoke even as his body sank into blissful lethargy.
He was right. She was indeed his.
The mere idea of anyone touching her, looking at her, baring her body…it made him want to clench his fists as a wave of possession swamped him, the likes of which he’d never experienced before.
She was his. Undeniably his. And he…yes, he was hers.
As she turned in his embrace and snuggled her head onto his shoulder, it brought home to him how well they fit. Their bodies and their minds fit in so many complex ways, it was as if someone had lit a branch of candles and illuminated the power of their interactions.
Kitty was intelligent, something she’d kept to herself. But then again, she was not nineteen and on the hunt for a husband. She had come to him with that Ridlington chin held high, flaunting convention, willingly surrendering her virginity to him without a murmur, and accepting his desires. She’d submitted with curiosity and then pleasure, meeting his sensual needs with her own.
She’d learned so quickly, and without hesitation or any kind of prevarication.
If he wanted to do something she was ready to obey. If he wanted to discuss something, her wits were sharp and set for a lively debate.
Lying beside her, in the light of the fire, mussed and tumbled as they were, Max wondered if the world had stopped turning for a little while. He would certainly have accepted that fact, had it been presented to him. Because the realization of what was happening between him and Kitty shook him to his core.
He would have been hard pressed to say whether either of them loved each other. He wasn’t sure he knew what that meant. He ‘loved’ his sister, but that was something inspired more by the years and the general expectation of family interactions. What he felt for Kitty was quite different. More intense, more visceral.
Did she love him? He would like to think so, and she was certainly capable of such affections, which she’d displayed for her sister. Would she have taken him to her bed and her body if she didn’t care deeply? He strongly doubted it.
He moved a little, knowing they’d be cold before long, since the fire wouldn’t last all night.
It was time to take her to bed. So he rose, doing his best not to disturb her. Slipping into shirt and breeches, he grabbed a blanket from one of the side chairs, spread it over Kitty, then wrapped it all the way around as he picked her up from the couch. She was light in his arms, which he didn’t expect. Her personality was vibrant and one could easily overlook the delicate bones that made up that stubborn chin.
She murmured sleepily into his chest.
“Hush, sweetheart. I’m taking you to bed.”
“Mmm, good,” she sighed, reaching for his neck and laying her hand on his shoulder.
He smiled as he managed to open the door to his suite, kicking it closed behind him. It was warm, thank goodness, so he had Kitty tucked in beneath the covers before she even realized he’d put her down.
Blowing out the candles, he slipped in beside her, heaving a deep sigh of contentment as she closed the distance between them and curled into his chest with a soft purr.
Yes, this was right. This was the way every night should be.
It was some time before Max slept, but at last he surrendered to the lure of Morpheus, a smile of satisfaction on his face.
He had a plan.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kitty awoke to the sobering knowledge she was alone in the big bed.
Stretching out her arm she felt cold linens…Max must have risen quite some time before. It was barely eight o’clock, but she couldn’t go back to sleep. There was no warm body to snuggle into.
That thought sent another in its wake. What would she do when there was no more Max? She had no illusions. He’d taken her as his mistress and it had been an outrageous maneuver that had become a marvellous experience for her. And for him as well, she hoped.
But all things must end—especially the tenure of mistresses.
It would be time to go home to Ridlington and perhaps reassess her life. She could not imagine continuing to reside in town and risk meeting Max at social occasions, or hearing about his latest mistress.
No, that would kill her—rip her heart right out of her chest and render her quite dead.
Unbidden, tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she pushed them away and swung her legs out over the bed. She refused to start the day by being maudlin and weepy. Two sentiments she’d abhorred in others, and ones she did not intend to indulge in herself.
Today was a new day, and there were new opportunities for inquiries about the carriage accident. If she could return to Ridlington with an adequate answer as to why Hecate was so badly injured, it would be a wonderful achievement.
Walking into the parlor and finding herself alone wasn’t quite so wonderful, but she remained hopeful, accepting tea from Deery.
“Mr. Max asked me to let you know he had some urgent matters to deal with early this morning, but that he hopes to be back no later than ten.”
“Very well,” she nodded. “Than
k you. Is Mrs. Chaney about yet?”
“I have not seen her as of this moment, Miss Ridlington.” Deery placed a warm scone in front of her. “Cook thought you might fancy these this morning. It’s quite chilly outside.”
“Oooh, how lovely. Cook had the right of it.” She buttered a scone and liberally added blackberry preserve. “I hope Mr. Max wrapped up warmly.”
“He did indeed. I saw to it myself. Since he was riding, it was most important.” Deery nodded.
“He didn’t take the coach?”
“No, he said it would be faster by horse.”
“Goodness, he must have been in a hurry,” remarked Kitty. “And early too.”
“Indeed, Miss. Although Mr. Max is never averse to an early morning ride.”
Kitty’s mind whirled down completely disgraceful paths, but she hid her blush behind another mouthful of scone. “Please compliment Cook for me, Deery. And if she made the blackberry preserves as well…I think she deserves a nice bonus and I shall speak with Mr. Max about it as soon as he arrives home.” She smiled at the man.
Who, to her surprise, smiled back. “Thank you, Miss. Cook will be most pleased to know her efforts were appreciated.”
It was somewhat surprising, mused Kitty, finding herself completely alone at Mowbray House. Grace had not put in an appearance at the breakfast table, and thus Kitty had been reduced to her favorite corner of the library, and a book.
She wasn’t averse to a morning’s reading in front of a nice fire, but with the advances they’d made in their pursuit of the truth—well, she’d hoped for a slightly more active and interesting time of it.
However, it was barely half an hour later when she heard a slight hubbub in the hall, and could only hope it was Max returning. And that he might have some news or plans to alleviate her frustrated isolation.
Her prayers were answered.
“Kitty?” He spoke her name as he walked in to the library. “Here you are. Good.” He crossed the room, grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up, giving her a hard smacking kiss on the mouth.