Chapter Nineteen
As she prepared for bed, Kitty’s mind kept turning over the possibilities offered by their discoveries. It was a process begun over dinner, continued afterward and was still ongoing in her brain as she undressed.
She jumped as the door opened and Max walked in.
“My room. Now.”
Making a conscious effort to recall that she was, in fact, Max’s submissive mistress, she nodded her head and followed him silently back into his suite. He was in his robe, but he shrugged it off as she closed the door behind them.
He was quite naked.
She took a few moments to admire the view. A gentleman’s backside, especially one as nicely muscled as Max’s, was a delightful thing.
“Remove your gown, Kitty, then get into bed.”
He went around the room, snuffing out the candles, leaving only one branch by the bedside.
She did as he instructed, shivering a little as her warm skin met cool linens. Still not entirely comfortable when nude, she managed to hide most of her breasts in an attempt at modesty.
She noticed his look of amusement as he slid in beside her. “Don’t you think it’s rather late to be hiding anything from me, Kitty?”
She bit her lip. “I suppose so. But I’m not used to this, Max. To being naked…with a man.”
“I’m glad of it.” He turned onto one side and rested on his elbow, observing her. “So what do you think of it?”
She blinked. “Of what?”
He tugged down the quilt and ran a fingertip lightly around her nipple. It contracted, and shivers danced along her nerve endings. “Of this. You and I. Sex, Kitty. Fucking.” He paused and lightly pinched the hard nub, making her gasp. “Of being my mistress—in every way.”
“You mean being submissive to you, don’t you?” She watched his eyes as they roamed over her naked skin.
“Partly.” He bared her other breast. “But overall. You were a virgin—which I found surprising, given your age. But also it was quite an honor to be your first lover, the first to learn how you feel when you come around my cock. So I ask again. What do you think of it all?”
She was silent for a few moments, wondering how to answer such a simple but important question. “I think I like it,” she said, after much deliberation. “As for my virginity, well, I didn’t think much of that, although I certainly had no interest in parting with it until…” she gulped. “Until you touched me.”
Max shot her a quick glance from beneath his long eyelashes, then cupped her breast with one hand. “Go on.”
“I’m not sure what else to say.” She sucked in a quick breath as he ran his thumb over sensitive flesh. “I found, to my surprise, that I like being spanked. At least I like it when you do it. It’s…” she hated the heat she knew bloomed in her cheeks. “It’s sensual and makes me feel…”
“Feel what, Kitty?”
“I don’t know,” she frowned. “How to describe it…it’s hard. It makes me feel alive, Max. In a way I’ve never been before. I’ve always held back, kept my countenance. I’ve worked hard to never betray what I feel within me, since it will either be ridiculed or ignored. But with you…”
She sighed as he pulled down the quilt further and moved closer, giving himself access to both her breasts.
“With me?”
Silent again, Kitty’s mind fought to understand why she was doing this. Ruining herself in many ways, and yet eager to run headlong into whatever disaster that might bring. She didn’t care, she realized. This, being here at this moment, was more of everything than a year in London Society.
“With you I am not afraid.”
He leaned even closer, the heat from his chest searing the skin on one side. “Afraid of what?”
“Being myself. Somehow I have come to trust you enough to be myself. To find myself, really, since this is all new to me. I am learning that I don’t know exactly who I am.”
“Then let’s find out, shall we?”
Max quickly flipped all the covers away, exposing her to his gaze. “Beautiful,” he said, running his hand from her knees to her armpit and making her flinch and catch her breath.
He reversed course, slowing at her thighs, nudging them apart. “Show me, Kitty. Show me all of you. Hold nothing back from me, sweetheart. Promise?”
She found herself parting her legs on his command, unable to resist the sound of his voice, so low, so affectionate… “I promise, Max. I promise.”
His fingers slid to the shadows between her legs and he played, teasing the flesh with light strokes, then pressing a little harder, some places making her sigh with pleasure, others making her muscles tighten in response to his touch. She was learning how different it was to have a man caress her like this. Her arousal grew with Max’s continued attentions, and she moaned, unable to keep still as he probed, petted and teased her onward and up…up a steep climb…
“I want to watch you come, Kitty.”
She barely caught the words, since he had her trembling now, shuddering with each new sensation. He had discovered a rhythm, a steady stroke against a spot that she knew would eventually force her to the peak of ecstasy. And she could not resist, could not slow down the inevitable ascent.
“Come, Kitty. Come around my hand.”
He leaned over and nipped a taut bud, making her cry out—it was an added dart of pleasure she’d not anticipated and her legs writhed, parting wide, inviting him to do as he would. She would welcome it all.
He urged her to the very edge of the precipice. “God, yes,” he murmured. And then he came over her, rolling between her legs, taking his weight on his hands and thrusting himself into that hot wet darkness.
It was the final straw for Kitty.
She exploded around him, her mind blank, her vision filled with shooting stars and rainbows and colors that had no name. There was no Kitty, no Max, just a vortex of erotic desire and delight, and the more Max pumped himself within her, the more she shattered and the higher the peak.
Eventually she choked out a scream, locked in a spasm of exquisite passion so intense it was almost painful. She heard a loud groan from Max and vaguely felt the throbbing of his cock deep inside her as he too fell into the maelstrom.
At last they separated, Kitty feeling a sudden chill at the loss of Max’s warm weight. He pulled up the covers and tucked her in beside him. “Are you all right?” He pushed a lock of her hair away from her face.
“Mmm,” she sighed.
“Good.” He settled them both. “Sometimes I forget how good it can be to just enjoy each other.”
“No spanking?”
“Next time,” he yawned.
She smiled as she turned in his arms and closed her eyes. Oh good.
*~~*~~*
Max hadn’t fallen asleep as quickly as Kitty, the night before. He’d tried, snuggled in against her body like spoons on a tray. But his mind had twisted and turned around several different knotty problems and it had been a while until sleep claimed him.
His mirror showed him that, quite clearly, with darkened shadows beneath his eyes.
He frowned. He would have to put the worry about Kitty aside for now. They were in a strange and foreign ocean together at the moment, and he had no idea where to steer.
But of prime importance was finding out who was sabotaging carriages. If anyone else was killed while Max worked on this problem, he’d never forgive himself. He and Kitty had time. Those half-sawn carriage wheels didn’t.
For once, he was the first to arrive in the parlor.
“Good morning, sir. Breakfast?” Deery bowed.
“I should say so.” Max made a beeline for the sideboard and helped himself liberally to bacon, eggs, kidneys and three freshly baked rolls.
“Will you be requiring the gig this morning then, sir?” He glanced at Max’s loaded plate. “I doubt there’s a plough horse available today.”
“Good God, let a man have his breakfast, Deery.”
“I’d be happy to, sir. But it appears you’re having everyone else’s as well.”
Max sat with a snort, happy to see Kitty had entered the room with a cheerful smile. “Hullo Max.” She nodded her thanks at Deery as he poured her tea. “Just a roll and some of that bacon, if you please.” She turned to Max. “I woke up thinking about our problem, Max.” She sipped, closed her eyes, swallowed and sighed. “Deery, you pour the best tea I have ever tasted.”
He bowed. “Good think you came in when you did, Miss. I’m not sure if there would have been any left if you’d waited.” He shot a speaking glance at his master.
Max ignored the jibe. “Any ideas?”
“Well, it occurred to me that we can’t just walk into the carriage factory and ask if they’ve made any enemies lately. Anyone who might want to see their business fail.”
Thoughtfully, Max stared at his plate, not seeing the food at all. “Why not?” He lifted his head and looked at Kitty. “Sometimes the direct approach is the best. Whetstone and Frank, whoever they are, cannot be pleased at the number of accidents happening to their carriages. So why don’t we ask them what they think? It’s a good place to start…”
Kitty looked surprised at his supportive comment. “If you think it might produce something useful, then perhaps yes. All right.” She buttered a roll. “May I accompany you? Sometimes it helps to have a lady present.”
Max thought about it. They had yet to return to the London scene; after the scandal Kitty had created, Max had been hesitant to simply walk her back into a ballroom. But this trip, to a carriage maker just outside the city? What could it hurt? And Kitty’s powers of observation were far more acute than she had ever disclosed.
“Very well. Yes, I think I’d like you to come along. You can give me your impressions of the company and its workers. I never met either Whetstone or Frank, so if we can find them there, it might be helpful.”
“Excellent,” she beamed. “When do we leave?”
Grace walked in on the heels of Kitty’s question. “Ah, I see the plans are afoot for the day.” She smiled as Deery held out a chair for her. “Thank you, Deery. Tea would be wonderful.” Turning to Max, she raised her eyebrows. “Let me guess. You’re going to visit carriage makers.”
“Very astute for this hour of the morning, dear sister,” chuckled Max. He was thrilled to see she had left off her veil; obviously Kitty was having a good effect on her, or she’d become so involved in this entire puzzle that she’d simply forgotten.
He wanted to tell her how lovely she looked, but to do so might remind her of her scar. So he merely held his tongue and began a discussion on various other carriage makers and whether they would be spiteful enough to sabotage a peer.
It was a lively conversation, and lasted for close to an hour. But then Kitty rose. “If I am to accompany you, I must tidy myself, Max. I will be ready in about fifteen minutes?”
“Ideal.” He stood and glanced at Grace. “You won’t…”
“No.” She shook her head, refusing his unspoken invitation.
She might have left off her veil, but that in no way indicated her readiness to venture out on an excursion. He sighed. “As you wish.”
She shrugged. “While you’re gone, I will do a little research into the companies that produce carriages. I believe I saw a manufacturing booklet somewhere in your library. Probably when you were ordering yours.”
“My goodness, I’d forgotten how thorough you are,” her brother grinned. “By all means. Have at it.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Grace looked at him. “This mystery…and Kitty.”
He met her gaze squarely. “Yes to both, my dear.”
She smiled. “I’m glad.”