by Sofia Daniel
Maxwell’s face went slack as I pulled down my tights and knickers in one swipe.
Toeing off my school loafers and stepping out of the puddle of undergarments, I stared up into his glittering, silver eyes. “Are you going to stand there gaping or fuck me against the wall?”
Instead of launching himself at me, he backed toward his desk, his gaze fixed on my bare thighs. My lips parted to ask why he would walk away at a time like this, but he opened the top drawer of his desk and extracted three condoms.
I exhaled a relieved breath. Of course.
Maxwell threw the first at me and placed the two in his blazer jacket.
I tore off the foil with my teeth and pulled out the rubber sheath. “Come here.”
He was in front of me in an instant. I shoved his boxers down, unleashing that gorgeous, huge dick. Even without gripping it around the base, the organ stood flush against his lower abs with the thickest, reddest, mouthwateringly moist tip. Angry veins protruded from an even thicker shaft, creating a network of patterns I longed to explore with my tongue.
Part of me wanted to drop to my knees and worship at the altar of Maxwell’s erection, but the hot blood coursing through my veins and heating my core urged me to continue my first plan.
With fingers that wouldn’t stop trembling, I unrolled the condom over his bulbous tip. Maxwell groaned, the deep, reverberating sound making my core muscles quiver with need. Once I’d fully sheathed him, he pulled me toward the bed.
“No.” I dug my heels into the wood floor. “Against the wall.”
His silver eyes blazed. “Your unpredictability is what I love most about you.”
My heart soared. Somewhere in that sentence, he said he loved me, but the heat coursing through my veins told me it could wait. What I needed was a guy who could pin me down and give it to me good and hard. What I needed was Maxwell.
With a growl, he hooked his hands beneath my hamstrings and backed me against the wall. I clung onto him like he was the only thing keeping me sane, and moaned as he glided his dick against my sopping, wet slit.
“S-stop teasing me,” I said with a moan. “Fuck me, now.”
Maxwell laughed. “Eager?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
With a low moan, he pushed into me, that glorious, huge tip stretching me open. Sensation rippled down my inner thighs and straight to the molten pit of my core. I leaned against that wall and stifled a groan. Going slowly was all very well. It helped my muscles adjust to the sheer size of Maxwell’s dick, but the only way I could leave this room satisfied was with a good, hard pummeling.
Maxwell took his time, entering me inch by inch with gentle thrusts. His body was so big and powerful compared to mine and he didn’t want to hurt me, but I wanted him to split me open. Common sense whacked me upside the head. The first time we’d had sex, and I’d gone on top, it was a struggle to fit all of him in.
My muscles rippled and spasmed against his girth, and sparks of pleasure ran along my nerve endings. His heavy panting filled my ear, sending pleasant shudders across my skin.
It took an eternity for him to sheath himself into me and when he did, I rested against the wall, panting and clamping hard around his cock. Shit, I was the girl with eyes bigger than her stomach. Before I could rephrase the saying into something more accurate, Maxwell bit my earlobe.
“I want to fuck you so bad right now,” he snarled.
“Do it, do it!” I whispered.
“Can you take it fast and hard?”
I bucked my hips and moaned in response.
He pulled back, making my muscles tighten around him, and then thrusted into me to the hilt. Shockwaves of pleasure coursed through my body, making me cry out.
“Ssssh!” Maxwell stilled. “If one of the domestic staff or some jealous asshole hears us, we’ll both be expelled for lewd conduct.”
Nodding, I clamped my teeth down on my lip and promised myself not to make a sound.
Still filling me to the hilt, Maxwell drew back, met my gaze and bared his teeth. He pumped his hips back and forth with hard thrusts that made my eyes roll back in their sockets.
“Are you alright?” his voice was strained.
All I could do was nod. If I tried to speak, the word would come out a moan loud enough to fill the hallway.
Maxwell continued the relentless pace, each thrust grinding against my swollen clit in a way that made it spark in counterpoint to the spasm and clench of my core. I clung onto his shoulders, riding out the sensations with my jaws so tight the muscles around my neck ached.
His hot, heavy breaths fanned against my skin, and beads of sweat gathered on my brow. He pistoned in and out of me at a pace that sent my consciousness into orbit. Right then, I lost control of thought and self and reason, becoming a ball of pleasure and need.
I’m not sure if I moaned or if I cried out, but Maxwell was beyond caring about being overheard and didn’t tell me to be quiet. As the pleasure built to an intensity that made my muscles clench like a closed fist, Maxwell pounded into me even harder.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he moaned.
I wanted to tell him he was so fucking big, but my words came out a garbled groan.
The edges of my vision darkened, and I squeezed my eyes shut as the delicious pressure within me mounted until I couldn’t breathe or do anything else but cling onto that huge, muscular body. If fucking was a drug, I’d be freebasing—flying on a flurry of euphoria.
With one deep thrust, something within me snapped, releasing the most intense gust of sensations. As an orgasm tore through my body like a hurricane, Maxwell shuddered and moaned out his climax.
“You are incredible,” he growled.
“I so fucking needed that,” I moaned in his ear. “Thank you.”
Maxwell carried me across the room and laid me on the bed. I melted against the mattress and stared at him through dazed eyes. In that moment, I was just a girl who’d had the most amazing fuck of her life.
He got on top of the bed beside me and wrapped his arms around my middle. “There’s something off about the Liddells.”
“Huh?” I let my eyelids flutter shut.
“The entire bunch of them are keeping secrets from the archbishop.” His melodic voice drifted through my ears. “That’s why I stole their DNA samples.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The words hit like a punch, making my eyes snap open. I stared into Maxwell’s twinkling eyes that crinkled at the sides from his wide smirk.
“You stole what?” I whispered.
“On the way home, I kept thinking about what Lady Liddell’s bullshit on your parentage.” He slid a hand up my bare thigh, under my skirt, and rubbed circles on my ass cheek.
I nodded, my pulse fluttering in my throat. My mind raced ahead, trying to work out how he could steal a person’s DNA without hypodermic needles, a bunch of vials and subjects dumb enough to allow a schoolboy to extract their blood. It seemed like an impossible heist.
He placed a kiss on the tip of my nose. “You said you were going to prove that Mr. Burgh was only your grandfather, so I thought why not see if I could manufacture a scandal to take their minds of persecuting your family?”
My brows drew together into a frown, but that still didn’t stop me from reaching around him and grabbing a handful of his hard, tight ass. “With a fake DNA test?”
“That was the original plan, but Lady Liddell arrived in time for lunch with Elizabeth, Camden, and Mackinnon Macdonald.”
My lips curved into a smile. That name sounded totally made up. “Who’s that?”
“Macdonald and Macdonald Solicitors in Glasgow has served the Liddell family since 1614.”
“Alright.” I nodded and waited for him to continue.
Maxwell released my ass, rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I played the uptight asshole, saying I didn’t want a bride who had been sullied.” He chuckled. “Everyone around the table was livid. I’ll have to apologize t
o Ken for making him sound like such a prick.”
I bit down on my lip, cringing for the quieter twin. “Did Elizabeth tell the truth?”
“She backtracked, saying it was just a few kisses and a hand up her skirt.”
My heart sank. I’d hoped she would admit to lying about Mr. Burgh to save face. Apparently, it was alright to admit to exaggerating fictional events.
“My dad went mental.” Maxwell shook his head as though reliving the experience. “He just had to pay a huge out-of-court settlement in one of his dairies for a manager’s sexual harassment. That sort of bullshit sends him in a rage.”
“What happened next?” I asked.
“Everyone went silent, even Camden bloody Liddell.” Maxwell snorted. “It turns out that he’s not such an alpha male when he doesn’t have a squad of men at his back. Then Elizabeth cracked and blamed Lady Liddell for everything from handing Myra the gun to making her spout all that bullshit about Mr. Burgh on TV.”
My heart flip-flopped, and my breath came in excited, shallow pants. I was no stranger to gossip, but hearing this was like getting three matching numbers on the scratch cards. “No!”
“It gets better.” He turned onto his side and met my gaze. “My mother sent us both out of the room for a long walk. I had to stay silent and let her rant because she knows Kendrick really well.”
I placed a hand on his chest. “She said something incriminating?”
The smile in his eyes dimmed. “She resented her mother for tricking Myra into nearly killing you with a real gun.”
Now it was my turn to stare at the ceiling. I’d hated Myra Highmore since she poured gazpacho soup down my back and made that racist slur against Gideon, but she was only a stupid cow who needed a hard punch in the face. She deserved what she got for helping Elizabeth push cocaine to little kids, but that whole business with the gun was horrendous.
Not that I would beg the police to drop the charges of attempted murder. I could have died on Saturday or ended up maimed for life. It was just so shitty of Lady Liddell to strike out against Myra and me to preserve her daughter’s reputation and fortune.
Maxwell placed a hand on my belly. “When Mother called us into the drawing room, everybody wanted to know if I would consent to the engagement, and I said no.”
“I’ll bet they didn’t like that.”
He raised a shoulder. “It’s what Ken would have wanted. No title is worth being saddled with a lunatic.”
“Not to mention that she doesn’t even like men,” I muttered.
He snorted. “Camden cornered me later, saying the Nevis family was interested in Elizabeth’s hand, as were a few prominent families around Scotland. I wished them good luck.”
I stared at Maxwell out of the corner of my eye. “That still doesn’t explain the stolen DNA?”
His face broke out into a grin. He shuffled onto his back and arranged us so I lay on my side, tucked under his arm. “Mother let the Liddells stay overnight so I could sleep on my decision and give them an answer. So, at breakfast, I snuck into the guest rooms and took each person’s toothbrush.”
“Is that enough?” I splayed my palm in the center of his chest.
He hummed and nodded. “According to the website I read, you can take DNA from cigarettes, chewing gum, cutlery, and even used tissues. But it’s illegal and carries a three-year sentence.”
I shook my head. “If we use them, the Liddells—”
“We’re going to get Elizabeth to do it.”
“How?”
“She sat with me on the journey back, pleading for understanding. Myra is about to expose their relationship to the media. If she gets engaged to someone who she hasn’t been photographed with in public, everyone’s going to know it’s a sham. She’s desperate.”
“Which explains why she needs Kendrick.”
“Exactly.”
I pulled myself up to sit and went through everything I’d just learned. Elizabeth was more loyal to herself than to her family and was desperate to hide any trace of her relationships with other girls. Because Myra was going on the offensive with facts, Elizabeth and her family were desperate to secure a future marriage with a prominent family.
“That still doesn’t explain how Elizabeth will send in stolen DNA samples,” I said.
“We’re going to let her think they’re yours.”
“Okay?” My brows drew together. This was turning out to be the most convoluted plan. Since their last scheme ended with me arrested, and would have gotten me jailed if Elizabeth hadn’t swapped real cocaine for flour, I wasn’t about to say it wouldn’t work.
“Once we steal a sample from Father Neapolitan, we’ll prove a bunch of things.” He held up a finger and counted off the points. “One, that he’s a Liddell, two that he’s your father, and three, that you’re entitled to a slice of that fortune.”
Unease settled in my belly. In this part of the world, people seemed more aware of inheritance and succession in a way that reminded me a little of Billy Hancock. I suppose that’s how wealth stayed in a family for generations, but benefitting from a person’s death or claiming money I seemed wrong.
Maxwell cupped my cheek. “What’s on your mind?”
I cringed as I said the words. In a few simple steps, the Liddells had destroyed Mr. Burgh’s career, his reputation, and his life. Why the hell was I baulking about lashing out at them the only place it would hurt?
He exhaled a long breath. It was part exasperation and part are-you-fucking-kidding-me?
“Sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “They don’t give a shit about playing dirty, and neither should I.”
“We’ll let her know we’ve gathered DNA samples of Mr. Burgh and every man you think might be your father, just to prove the Liddells wrong. When she steals them and sends them to the lab for processing with her return address, we’ll intercept the reply.”
“But we’ll get Elizabeth’s DNA,” I said, still not understanding the point of running the girl around in circles.
His brow rose. “I’m just saying that Camden Liddell seemed awfully protective of Elizabeth. Compare that to the archbishop, who went to play golf with Orlando’s grandad.”
I reared back and stared into Maxwell’s eyes. That didn’t sound one bit outlandish. How many uncles loved their nieces enough to risk their careers in that phony drug bust and then threatened school girls in their hospital rooms? He was probably working behind the scenes to fix things so that Myra got full punishment for the gun and coke, too.
An idea had me tilting my head to the side. “But won’t Camden be in the line of succession if he quits his job with the police?”
“That’s not the point.” Maxwell grinned. “The Liddells wouldn’t want a scandal like that to go public. If we uncover any worthwhile dirt on the Liddells, they’d put Elizabeth back on television to retract her lies about Mr. Burgh.”
“What if she doesn’t?” I asked.
He reached into his blazer pocket and produced his smartphone. After tapping a few commands, he pulled up a video of a formal dining room.
My breath caught in the back of my throat. “Is that—”
“Chez Deloraine?” he drawled. “Yes, it is.”
I threw my arms around him and pressed kisses on his lips. “You recorded Elizabeth throwing her mum under the bus?”
“Not only do I have footage of Elizabeth admitting that her mother made her spew those lies on TV, but I also got her to talk about her relationship with Myra, the cocaine she put in the curry and diet pills.”
I squealed into Maxwell’s ear. Maybe the footage wasn’t admissible in a court of law but in the court of social media, incriminating videos and recordings were priceless.
We spent the rest of the day undressing each other and making love. By the time Maxwell finished with me, we had to return to Mr. Burgh’s house so I could change into another uniform. The cleaners had removed all traces of broken glass from the room, and except for the empty picture frames, the roo
m looked relatively untouched.
Elizabeth’s betting slip lay among a pile of papers on my desk, making me suck a breath through my teeth. The staff here must be super honest. Anywhere else, they would have skipped town and cashed in that slip. I shook my head. Three-hundred-thousand pounds could buy someone a very nice house in Richley.
I plucked it from the desk and handed it to Maxwell.
He whistled. “Keep that safe. Now that Elizabeth’s cocaine empire has crumbled, she’ll need every bit of money she can scrounge.”
“Right.” I glanced around for a hiding-place and slipped it into the inside pocket of my blazer. “The police confiscated all the drugs she’d left in Myra’s room.”
“And Lady Liddell stopped her allowance and cancelled her credit cards. It was one of Father’s conditions considering the engagement.”
I shook my head. “As long as her family continues going to such extreme lengths to protect her reputation, she’s going to get worse.”
“True.” His gaze swept down my body. “But situations like these have a tendency to self-destruct.”
“And bring down innocent people.” I said with a huff. “Come on, let’s go to dinner.”
Nearly everyone was in attendance in the dining room, even Mrs. Campbell, who made a point of leaving an empty gap at Mr. Burgh's seat at the head table. When our eyes met, she offered me a gentle nod, proving that she wasn’t the one behind that bullshit text message about indefinite leave.
The scent of roast beef and red wine sauce filled the air, as did the gentle hum of subdued chatter. Most of the girls sat around their tables, looking dowcast, with the two boys who had distributed the cocaine curry noticeably absent. I glanced at the larger table I now shared with the knights and marveled at how one person could wreak so much misery just for financial gain.
Kendrick was the first at our table to rise, followed by Gideon. Orlando cast the pair a cautious glance, then he turned to see us approach, and stood. My steps faltered at the curious display. The knights never rose from their feet when Elizabeth sauntered into the room.
“What’s with those two?” Maxwell muttered.