Rex
False pretenses.
Stiffly escorting his wife back to their carriage, Rex realized that was what was truly bothering him.
All this time, he had assumed Mary was adventurous, looking for illicit thrills when she infiltrated the Society’s masquerade, that she had an interest in him that could not be contained. He had thought she had a real regard for him.
Realizing she had been spying on him, looking for a traitor among his people, and not actually interested in him at all…
He felt betrayed. Deceived. Misled.
“Rex.” Mary tugged at his arm where she had placed her hand. “Michael…”
“Stop.” He cut her off without looking down at her, unable to bear hearing her call him Michael. The intimacy they had shared the night before now felt false. “We will talk at home.”
At home, after he had some time to reflect on all the new information and what it meant for the marriage she had trapped him in. Had she meant to trap him? Had it all been an elaborate ruse? No, that could not be right. He had been willing to marry her before that—the more fool, him—and she had refused. So why had she gone into the conservatory?
Not to follow a man for an assignation, but perhaps to follow someone she suspected of being connected to this plot. Maybe not even something so dire—she could have been following anyone she recognized from the Society, to see what they were doing and who they were meeting. Most likely, she would have witnessed nothing more than a clandestine tryst, but what if she had stumbled across a traitor? Had she even paused to think about how dangerous that was?
Fear choked him, but he managed to push it back as they reached the carriage, and he wordlessly helped her into it. The groom glanced over his shoulder as if sensing something was amiss between his lord and lady, but of course, he could not ask.
“Home,” Rex barked out before settling beside a subdued Mary.
There was a part of him that wanted to reassure her, but he did not. Another part of him was disgruntled. What did she have to be upset about? She was not the one who had been married under false pretenses. She had trapped them both by kissing him in the conservatory, where she had likely been risking her life to follow a possible traitor into a completely unknown situation. She had pretended an interest in him that did not exist.
Aggrieved, Rex sat silently beside her, not allowing the impulse to reach out and hold her hand to sway him from his rightful pique.
Mary
Biting down hard on her lower lip, Mary blinked back the tears in her eyes, forcing her expression into a calm social mask.
That her perfectly wonderful wedding day was followed immediately by such an awful one made her want to hide away in her room and cry into her pillow. Pain had bloomed in the center of her chest, and rubbing did nothing to relieve the steady ache. She wished she had stayed home, the way she originally planned.
Then Rex would have come looking for her, and they could have spent the day together, their first proper day as man and wife, enjoying themselves—instead of this.
Or perhaps it was for the best? She could feel the wounded pride radiating off him. Would it be worse if their marriage had gone on longer before he either discovered her mission for Evie, or she had confessed?
Mary wanted to explain to him that she had not wanted to lie. She had not wanted to hide secrets from him. She did trust him. But it had not been her decision or her secret to tell, and she knew that given the choice, she would not have told him today, which only compounded her growing guilt.
Unfortunately, Rex did not want to talk to her. At all.
When they reached home, he helped her down from the carriage and escorted her to the door, but the moment they were inside, he pulled away as if her touch repulsed him.
“I will be in my study.” His eyes skipped over hers, unfocused, as though he did not see her.
Swallowing hard against the pleas of forgiveness bubbling up, Mary nodded her head. She did not trust herself to speak yet. No, impulsiveness had been her downfall at every turn. If he was going to shut himself away in his study, she could do the same elsewhere and use the time to think.
There had to be something she could say, something she could do to make amends and demonstrate her feelings for him. Perhaps it went against Cynthia’s advice to make him chase her, but at the moment, she did not think that advice was pertinent to the situation. She wished she could seek out the other women, or Arabella, or anyone who might have some insight, but she did not dare leave the house again. Who knew what Rex would think if she even made the attempt?
Wandering through the hallways, she found herself in the back parlor that overlooked the gardens outside. Staring blankly at the colorfully arrayed flower beds, she found her mind turning to the Society. Not to the possible traitor among them, but to everything she had witnessed during her evening—their carousing, their pleasures, and more pertinently, the punishments.
Like the one he had given her for sneaking into the masquerade.
Rex
Leaning back in his armchair in an unhabitual slump, boots on his desk—which he rarely indulged in—Rex was sulking. There was no other word for it. He was a sulky, disillusioned lion, brooding in his lair, unwilling to leave because he would have to face the woman who had so enthralled him, only to discover her actions had been entirely misleading.
Now, fully enlightened on all the facts, so much of Mary’s previous incomprehensible behavior made perfect sense. That he could not have possibly surmised the correct answer from her actions was also clear. What gentleman in his right mind would believe a small group of ladies—debutantes, no less—had inserted themselves into matters of treason? The very notion was ridiculous. Which, of course, made it not only completely plausible but rather brilliant if looked at from a certain angle.
Wrestling with his own personal upset against possible treason and an assassination attempt on one of the closest heirs to the throne made him feel rather selfish. The ladies had moved faster than White Hall, if Elijah’s request to join the Society was indeed motivated by a similar plan, which Rex now assumed it was. That was a disappointment as well, yet he could view Elijah’s deceit far more dispassionately than his wife’s, despite having a much longer history with the man, and even knowing Mary’s behavior this Season had been increasingly odd.
Truthfully, until today, he had not even considered Mary might be able to hurt him emotionally. While he had felt possessive and jealous, both new emotions for him, he had ascribed that to her unprecedented role in his life. Now, his eyes had been fully opened to how emotionally tangled he truly was.
She is faultlessly loyal.
That she had been. Even going so far as to marry him rather than betray her friends and their undertaking. Not just because she loved her country, but because she loved her friends.
Therefore, in order to secure her loyalty, he had to gain her love as well.
But how to do so?
Rex had been a master of seduction from the time he was a young man. He knew how to charm, how to seduce, how to beguile, but he had never attempted to make a woman fall in love with him, the very opposite in fact. He had not wished unnecessary emotional entanglements with any of his previous liaisons. He had not even had a mistress, all his needs being met by the Society and other various bored matrons among the ton. There had been multitudes of lovers, but not a single love.
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 body 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.