Burning for the Baron (Lords of Discipline Book 3)

by Alyson Chase

  Gripping his base, Colleen nodded. Eying his cock like a column of numbers in her ledgers, something she needed to figure out, she stretched her mouth wide and guided him inside.

  Pleasure skittered along his length, gathered inside his bollocks, and arrowed up his spine. Her mouth was fucking heaven. After his retirement from service to the Crown, this would be his primary occupation. He could spend hours with Colleen’s mouth wrapped around him. Or her cunny. Any part of her. She was perfect. Sweet, honest, determined. And so willing to give pleasure.

  Rocking his hips, he tried to sink a little deeper, watching her face for discomfort. She opened wider, her eyes watering a bit, but accepting his entreaty.

  “Fuck yes, suck me deep.” He cupped her cheek and felt his length inside her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed, the soft suction pulling at his skin with each drag.

  She gargled, coughed, and Max pulled back, letting her catch her breath. Tenderly, he used his thumb to wipe the corners of her mouth. “Is this all right?”

  Her breasts heaved. “It’s different. But you taste good.”

  “I hope you continue thinking that.” He couldn’t wait to come down her throat. Empty himself while buried inside of her. He’d done that in error once, but nothing had ever felt better.

  She ran her palm up and down his length, her saliva easing the glide. Inhaling deeply, she brought him back into her wet heat. Her lips stretched around his shaft. Reaching around, she gripped his arse and pulled him closer. Every inch he disappeared into her mouth ratcheted up his need. The sight was mesmerizing, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

  She sucked and slowly bobbed her head. Blood pulsed through his veins, making him throb in her mouth. He buried his fingers in her hair.

  “Look at me,” he said, his voice as rough as gravel. “Give me your eyes.”

  She looked up, her gaze pinned to his face as she took him ever deeper.

  Max was done. Ruined for any other woman. The look in her eyes slayed him. The trust. The sincerity. So fucking pure, so far removed from his life for the government.

  His hips jerked forward. His body needed to fuck, to take whatever the woman kneeling before him was offering. And she was offering a lot.

  Cradling the back of her head, he held her steady and took her mouth. Slow, steady strokes that tested his patience. Need crawled down his back, and he pulled her even tighter.

  She moaned, the vibrations shuddering down his cock.

  Widening his stance, he took it deeper, his crown nudging the back of her throat. His bollocks tingled, drew up tight. He held himself still, his nerve endings screaming, tipping over the point of no return.

  He groaned. “I’m coming, love. Suck me hard. Swallow every drop of me down.”

  She closed her eyes, cheeks hollowing, her eyebrows drawing close in concentration. At her first deep drag, he exploded. Pulse after pulse of ecstasy raced through him, weakening his limbs, making him dizzy. Bending over her head, he grasped the arm of her chair with one hand and poured himself out.

  Into the woman he loved.

  She broke away, panting hard. Hugging him around his legs, she rested her cheek on his thigh and tried to catch her breath.

  Max could only stand, legs locked and quivering, and hope that feeling would return to his feet before he collapsed onto Colleen.

  “Goddamn,” he said when his voice returned.

  Colleen looked up at him and scratched a nail down his stomach. “You liked that, I see.”

  Max snorted. An answer wasn’t necessary.

  “Then you’re going to like this even more.” Placing a hand on the seat cushion, Colleen pushed to her feet. Max grabbed her waist to help her up. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she took a deep breath. “I want to be with you tonight, the way you want. I want you to show me how you play with fire.”

  Max’s heart stuttered, came to a complete stop, before bursting into motion. He’d wanted this from the first moment he’d seen her. But she had to be certain. There was no room for indecision when it came to fire. “I need you to think carefully about this. It’s all right if you’re not ready. I’ll—”

  She laid a finger across his lips. “I’m certain.”

  His cock was still out of commission, but every other inch of skin buzzed. Excitement raced through his veins, but he forced calm. Calm would keep Colleen safe. Safe and satisfied. “All right. Go get on the bed. I’ll get the supplies.”

  Striding to the side of the room, he rang the bell for a servant. Colleen yelped and ducked under the covers when someone scratched at the door. Pulling the door open just wide enough to speak through it, Max made his request and closed it. He gathered his washing bowl, a pitcher of water, and a towel. Opening the chest at the foot of his bed, he pulled out a decanter of brandy and a small torch. He set them on the table next to his bed. Picking up a candelabra near the door, he lit the candles and set it next to the bed.

  Colleen held the covers up to her nose. “What did you ask the servant for?”

  “You’ll find out.” He found a thin leather strip and crooked his finger. “Now, sit up.”

  With an eye on the door, she swung her legs around, and Max crawled behind her. He gathered her fiery hair into one hand and combed it out with his fingers. He separated her hair into three sections and braided it down her back, fixing it with the leather band.

  Another scratch sounded at the door, and Max kissed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him see you.” Hopping off the bed, he took the cloth-covered bowl from his footman and shut the door with his foot. The servant couldn’t miss that Max was naked. And Max was under no illusions that installing Colleen in the room next door to his wouldn’t lead to gossip amongst his servants. But Colleen was a widow; such things were more accepted.

  But he shouldn’t wait too long before making the situation right.

  “What’s in the bowl?”

  Max pulled it out of her reach, the bowl chilling his hands, and set it on the far side of the bureau next to his bed. “Later. First, I want to prepare your body. Lie back.”

  She did so, staring at him steadily, her eyes fathomless pools of trust.

  Her dusky nipples pointed to the ceiling, and Max started there, his mouth and hands tasting and teasing every inch of flesh. Fire dancing along the body created a surge of pleasure. But dancing over already aching and sensitized skin increased the pleasure three-fold.

  He nibbled along the soft flesh on the underside of her breasts. Kneaded and chafed the skin over her ribs. He worked his way down her body, down each leg, not forgetting even the littlest toe.

  Her thighs fell open, an invitation. The hair along her lower lips was damp with her desire, and Max’s mouth watered. But he didn’t want her sated. Not yet. “Roll over.” He tapped her thigh, nudging her along.

  She grumbled, shooting him a pointed look, but turned to her belly. He worked his way up this time. His fingers skimmed up her inner thighs, slipping close to where she needed him, but never quite making contact.

  “Max!” Part angry taskmaster. Part entreaty. All delightful.

  Blood pooled in Max’s groin, and he bent down and bit her round arse. Her neediness, her wet and inviting sex, none of it would distract him. Not when he’d finally received an invitation to really play.

  He chafed and rubbed every inch of her back and bottom until they turned pink. He dug his fingers under her shoulder blades and scraped down her back. The pressure left fleeting streaks of white skin before pinking back up.

  Rocking her pelvis into the mattress, Colleen closed her eyes, breathing heavily. Max licked a trail up her spine, and she arched into his caress. Leaning over, he picked up the decanter and drizzled brandy along the path his tongue had taken. A small pool of liquid gathered in the hollow of her back.

  He lapped at the brandy. “When I set the liquor aflame, you should feel heat. Your skin should tingle, some even say it tickles. And just when the sensation starts to deepen, just before it become
s too intense, I’ll put it out.”

  Colleen clenched the pillow beneath her head. “All right.” She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I won’t lie and say I’m not apprehensive, but I’m ready. I trust you.” She sank into the pillow, her eyelids fluttering shut.

  Gripping his cock, Max eyed the woman laid out beneath him and stroked. The absolute faith. The vulnerability his partner had to lay bare in order to allow him this privilege. Those were the things that made his blood burn. That made him throb with want.

  There were no barriers between him and Colleen. No secrets.

  Laying the towel in the water, he placed the bowl next to Colleen. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder and made sure her braid was out of the way.

  Drawing out the moment would only increase Colleen’s fear, and he just wanted her to experience pleasure. Max doused his torch in the brandy and held it over the candle’s flame, watching it burst to life. Without hesitation, he set the torch to the brandy on her skin.

  ***

  The small hairs on the back of her neck rose, her muscles tensing in shock. A lightning bolt speeded up her spine. She sucked in a breath as the heat grew, and grew, until she was just about to call out. Max smoothed a cool, damp cloth up her back, extinguishing the heat before it turned into a burn.

  She released a shaky breath.

  Max squeezed her hip. “How was that?”

  Colleen took a second to consider. The skin over her backbone felt tender, and tingly, but there was no pain. “Was I truly on fire?”

  He chuckled. “You truly were.” He bent over her, and his cock nestled against her bottom. “It was beautiful. The fire raced up your spine, following the path of the brandy before I snuffed it out,” he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. Sucking the lobe into his mouth, he gently bit down.

  Lust dug a hook into her center and tugged. “More,” she breathed out.

  The mattress dipped. “All right. But I don’t want you to overheat. Open up.” He tapped her lips with something hard and frozen.

  Her eyes flew open. “Ice? That’s what the servant brought?”

  “Yes.”

  She opened her mouth for another question, and he popped the shard inside. She wanted to complain about his highhandedness, but the ice felt refreshing in her mouth, and she settled for a decided sniff. She let the ice melt, sucking on the cold water it released.

  Max laid another frozen piece at the nape of her neck. Shivers flooded her body as he traced the length of her spine with the ice. Her body shuddered under a different kind of burn. Following the damp trail with his mouth, he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along each vertebra, warming up what he’d just chilled.

  Colleen bit her bottom lip and dug her fingers into the pillow. Hot, cold, hot. Her senses couldn’t keep up.

  Gripping her leg, he tugged her knee up until it was bent beside her hip. “Open up,” he repeated.

  Colleen nibbled on her ice, uncertain what he was asking. When he slid another slick piece inside her core, she just about choked. “What?! Cold!” she yelled around her mouthful.

  “Don’t you want me to warm you up again?” He drizzled liquid across her bum and drew patterns through the brandy with his finger. Colleen wiggled, her body trying to escape the frigid intrusion, when the skin on her bottom flared awake. Streaks of heat raced across her arse. The warmth battled with the ice spreading through her core until her toes curled and a whimper was torn from her throat. Max swiped the wet towel over her skin, the cloth abrading the sensitized flesh.

  Colleen drooped, every muscle as limp as an underwatered flower. She was as wrung out as though she’d walked the entire length of London.

  Max set more and more lines of brandy alight, the burn on her skin receding less and less between each treatment, making her squirm. All her ice had melted, and she almost wished he’d insert another piece. She wanted to crawl out of her skin. Wanted him to touch every inch of her body with his torch. Anything to ease her ache. “Max!”

  “Need something, love?”

  Did she need something? Colleen needed for Max to stop sounding so smug. So controlled. She was clawing at the sheets, and he was as collected as a duchess taking tea. His mastery, over the fire, over her, burned away her barriers. She was exposed, laid completely bare. She needed Max to breach the space between them. Make them one.

  Reaching back, she took hold of the stiff length. He felt as hot under her palm as the torch. She tried to guide him to her channel, but he pulled back.

  He zig-zagged a chunk of ice across her back. “Are you sure you’re ready? I haven’t put flame to anyplace very wicked. And you haven’t begged nearly enough.”

  She chucked her pillow over her shoulder at him.

  He swatted it away with a growl. “All right then.” He tossed the bowl onto the side table, water sloshing over the rim, and doused the torch in the bowl. Grabbing her hips, he jerked her bum up and entered her with one long stroke.

  Colleen moaned, the relief exquisite. She didn’t need anything else but Max deep inside of her. Filling her up. Making them one. She breathed deep and enjoyed the moment.

  The respite didn’t last long. Max pulled out until just his crown remained notched in her body and slammed back home. He set up a punishing rhythm and the heat crept back, even hotter than when he played with fire.

  Crawling over her, Max threaded his fingers through hers and pressed her chest down into the mattress. He continued thrusting, the angle changed, different nerve endings sparking. “I can’t get enough of you, Colleen.” He bit her shoulder.

  He covered her like a blanket, enveloping her in his strength. He held her down, controlled the pace. Controlled her responses. And she was happy to let him, here in this bed. She’d lost control of her life, of her heart, and nothing had ever felt so right.

  She tried to remember each delicious slide. Every exquisite tremor Max created in her body. And prayed they wouldn’t be her last memories of him. Because she could no longer keep her treachery a secret. He deserved to know.

  He thrust faster, his breaths coming in short heaves. His frenzy, his need for her, drove her own passion higher. That a man like Max could want her was something she’d always cherish. Her body coiled tight, all of her muscles clamping down. Max’s pace faltered before redoubling with effort and pounding back home.

  Burying her face in the sheets, Colleen let out a strangled gasp and went over the edge. Pleasure rippled outward from her core, shaking her body.

  Max cursed. He pulled out and ground into her lower back, groaning. Liquid heat splashed across her skin, reminiscent of the fire that had seared her flesh.

  He rolled to his side, pulling Colleen with him, holding her close. Their skin cooled and their breathing slowed.

  Max kissed her neck. “That never gets old, does it?”

  She laced her fingers with his, palm to palm, and held his hand over her heart. She brushed her lips over his knuckles. “No.” And it never would. Colleen swallowed, the back of her throat burning. “I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you earlier. But I’ve been scared.”

  Brushing a lock of hair back from her cheek, Max held her tighter. “You have nothing to be scared of. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  “It’s not that type of scary.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her heart pounded painfully behind her breast, and she almost changed her mind. But it wasn’t fair to Max. He needed to know the truth.

  “You didn’t kill my husband, Max,” she whispered. “I did.”

  She waited, motionless as a rock, her pulse racing. He didn’t respond. Colleen bit her lip. He must not have heard. She opened her mouth to repeat it, but Max moved first. Jumping to his hands and knees, he flipped her to her back.

  He stared down at her, his face expressionless. “Say that again.”

  “Whatever you’re thinking, it wasn’t like that.” Clutching his wrist, she held on tight. The words tumbled from her mouth. “My husband was
supposed to be gone that night, spending the evening with some friends. I was in our office when I smelled the smoke. The chandlery and our clock shop shared a backyard. I went outside and saw the fire.”

  Max sat back on his haunches, a horrible resignation creeping over his face.

  She dug her fingers into his skin. “I heard calls for the bucket brigade. Knew they’d be there shortly to put out the flames. And for a moment, I wished it was our shop that was burning. That it was all those clocks going up in flames. So, when I ran back inside and my hip knocked an oil lamp from the desk, I didn’t react at first. I just stared as the flames spread across the floor. Then the curtains caught, and the fire seemed to be everywhere. I escaped outside. My husband wasn’t supposed to be home,” she repeated. “I didn’t call up to warn him. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

  “But you did.” Jerking from her grip, Max rubbed his wrist. As if trying to remove her mark.

  “It happened so fast.” She swallowed as blood pounded behind her temples. “You don’t know how stifling my life was. I felt like I was being buried alive, buried under the weight of all those clocks. I hated that shop. But I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just thought that, finally, God was answering my prayers.”

  Max rolled off the bed and gathered his clothes. He tugged on his trousers, his movements jerky. “I wondered how the fire could have spread. I thought there must have been a gust of wind I didn’t account for. Something I’d missed. This makes more sense.”

  Colleen crawled to the edge of the mattress. “My husband came home early. His friend later told me he had been complaining of a headache. I never knew.” Every night she thought how things would have been different if she’d only yelled, woken him from his slumber. If she hadn’t waited those long seconds watching the fire eat across her office, if she’d tried to smother the flames.

  “I reckon that makes it all right then.”

  She twisted the sheets in her fingers. “I never said it was all right.”

  The muscles in Max’s back bunched as he pulled on his shirt.