Colleen could only gape. It was most definitely her baron glaring down at her. He was without a coat or cravat, his white shirt draping loosely around his frame. His broad shoulders heaved with pent-up emotion. His pine-green eyes glittered with anger. But his face …
“What happened to your beard?”
He rubbed a palm across his bare jaw. “I shaved. Didn’t want to look like a goat.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. “But I guess I needn’t have bothered. Not if you’re going to spread your legs for any man that strikes your fancy.”
Her relief was short-lived. Colleen sucked in a breath. “You told me to look for other men!”
“I didn’t think you were stupid enough to actually do it!” He shook his head. “Halliwell? Truly? I must say that disappointed me.”
“Lord Halliwell at least is a kind man.” She climbed onto the bed on her knees and shuffled forwards, jabbing at the air with her index finger. “Not like that shrew, Molly, that you tupped. You don’t get to judge me.”
He crawled onto the bed and prowled towards her on his hands and knees, as sinuous as a leopard. “I’ve never bedded, or played, with that woman.”
“Oh.” That brought Colleen up short. That shrew had lied.
Quick as a snake, he grabbed her behind her knees and flipped her to her back. His body covered hers, pinning her down. “Can I judge you now?”
The front of her robe gaped open, and the starch of his linen shirt tickled her skin. Unbidden, she arched into him, her body demanding the contact even as her head yelled at her to stick to her resolve. She’d had good reasons for ending their relationship. Reasons that protected both Max and—
He took her mouth, stealing her will. All her arguments scattered before his onslaught. Max was kissing her. She knew it was wrong, that it would be better if she moved on from him, but couldn’t find it within herself to care.
Wrapping her arms around his back, she returned his kiss. Opening her mouth, she tangled her tongue with his. Each slide sent a delicious chill rippling down her back. He nipped at the tip of her tongue, then suckled, and she melted into the mattress. Max lay heavy on her, his weight comforting, delicious. She needed to feel more of him and she slapped at his shoulder until he gave her the space to pull an arm free from her robe. He tore the garment from her body then pressed her back into the bed. Grabbing her wrists, he locked them into the coverlet by her head. He took hold of her bottom lip between his teeth and pulled his head back, abrading the swollen flesh, until her lip released with a pop.
“You’re a fool.” Max pinned her with a glare.
“Yes.” She was a fool. She was willing to ignore the knowledge that their future could only end in heartbreak in order to stay in his arms in the present.
“I don’t own your body.” He nipped at her collarbone. “I can’t forbid you from offering yourself to other men.” His clenched jaw showed just how unhappy he was by that fact. “But I’m damn sure going to make it so you’ll never want to again.”
“I didn’t want to then,” she admitted. Burying her nose in the hollow where his neck met his shoulder, she breathed Max in. “I’d changed my mind and decided not to go through with it. I was only going to boss him around a bit and then leave.” She cupped his cheek and stared into his eyes. “I couldn’t let him touch me. I only want you.”
His eyes glittered and his body went still. Only his chest heaved. “Truly?”
“Truly,” she whispered.
Dropping his head, he pressed his lips to her collarbone and breathed out a shuddering breath. Then his lips spread in a wide smile against her skin.
He raised up, bracketing her hips with his knees. “Now that we’ve got that sorted”—he gazed hotly down her body—“whatever shall we do?”
Her nipples puckered under his examination, and she restlessly rubbed her thighs together. “Well, for what I have in mind, you are wearing altogether too many clothes.”
“That is something I can remedy.” He brushed his mouth against hers before rolling off the bed. He shucked his shirt, the light from the gas lamps flickering off the bronze skin of his back. His boots and pants quickly followed.
Colleen bit her bottom lip. The man was perfection. Every inch of him hard and chiseled. Shadow and light played along the planes of his corded thighs, the rise of his tight behind. She reached out a hand, needing to feel him, but he stepped away, leaving her hand outstretched and empty.
Striding to the bureau, Max pulled a taper from a three-pronged candelabra. He lifted the glass cover off an oil lamp on the wall and lit the candle from the flame. He turned, and Colleen’s breath caught in her throat.
Every time she saw him she never failed to have a reaction. His length jutted from the soft nest of dark hairs, semi-hard, but long and thick. Unabashed, he stalked towards her, his cock bobbing. When he reached the bed, she stretched her hand out again and gently cupped him.
Max let her explore. Wrapping her fingers around him, she fisted him down to his base. Achingly slowly, she slid her hand up and rubbed her palm over his crown. Her hand came away sticky.
“On your back,” he ordered.
Colleen rolled and scooted to the middle of the bed. Her fingers tingled with excitement, and her gaze tracked every flicker of the candle’s flame.
“I don’t have a torch available to bounce the flame off of you, but there is a bottle of brandy on the side table.” Max traced a pattern on her stomach with his index finger, her skin fluttering wherever he touched. “I would love to paint a pattern on your skin with the alcohol. Then see it come to life with flames.”
She froze. “You want to actually set me alight? Not just touch me with the flame?”
Max sat next to her, shifting close. “Yes. Brandy burns at a low temperature. It will ignite, the flames streaking across your body along the path I create, warming your skin just until you start to squirm before I smother the flames.” His voice was low and dusky. With the back of his fingers, he caressed the swell of her breast. “It is the purest expression of trust between a man and a woman that I know.”
If he had plunged a dagger in her heart it couldn’t have hurt more. She closed her eyes and fought against the tears. He trusted her. Enough to want to share this most intimate act.
And she was lying to him.
She understood what he meant. There was no way she could keep her walls, stop him from seeing straight into her heart, if she opened herself up to Max and his fire. She would be completely exposed.
It was something she desperately wanted. And something she couldn’t allow. The look in Max’s eyes as he gazed upon her was too precious. She couldn’t lose it. Not yet.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no. I’m not ready for that.” Would never be ready.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Without his beard, Colleen could read him so much more easily. At that moment, she wished she couldn’t. She hated to see his disappointment.
“No need to apologize,” he said. “I understand. You need to completely trust the person holding the candle.”
Her lungs squeezed tight. “I do trust you. Just …”
“Not enough for this.”
Jackknifing up, Colleen rolled to her knees and cupped his smooth cheek. “I trust you more than anyone. But I don’t think I can let someone actually set me on fire. For me, that’s a step too far. Please understand.”
He turned his face, pressing a kiss into her palm. “I do. And I would love nothing more than to paint your body with wax from this candle. If that still appeals to you, lay back. If it doesn’t, I’m happy to blow out every damn flame and take you in the dark. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
Colleen’s throat grew thick. Pressing her lips to his neck, she felt the strong beat of his blood pulsing through his body. No man had ever said anything so dear to her, and she would treasure the words forever.
“Keep the candle.” She rolled back and stretched her hands to the headboard. “Make me squirm.”
Max crawled over her. “My favorite job.” Keeping the candle held aloft, Max worshipped her body with his mouth. His lips tickled the hollow of her throat. His teeth scraped along her ribs. Everywhere he touched was a tease, a nip, a lave. By the time he was done, her skin was so sensitive, it felt as though only the thinnest threads held her together.
She reached for him. “Come here.”
He shook a finger and pushed her hands back. “Open up,” he said, nudging her jaw.
Brows lowered, she opened her mouth, and he stuck the taper into it. She squawked around it.
“Just one second.” Laughter filled his voice as he took the belt of her robe and tied her wrists together. He knotted the end of the sash around the truss of the headboard.
She glared at him around the candle, feeling as absurd as she must have looked.
He plucked the taper from her mouth. “Thanks.”
“That was disgusting.” She licked the pillow next to her, trying to scrape off the taste of wax.
“But it accomplished what I wanted.” Straddling her body, he sat down, the hair on the back of his thighs tickling her hips. “Now, be a good girl and thrash around a bit.” One side of his mouth curled devilishly up, and he tipped the candle. A drizzle of white wax rained down on her left breast.
The heat shocked her, and she jerked. Making his smile deepen. “Fiendish bastard.”
“Guilty as charged.” Her other breast received the same treatment, and Max bent low to blow a soothing stream of air across the abused flesh. He kissed the underside of her breast then licked a path around the crease. “Have I told you how much I adore your breasts? They are quite extraordinary.”
Rubbing her thighs together, Colleen let out a shuddering breath. “No different than other women’s. Maybe a little bigger.” And riding lower than other women’s, like Molly’s. But Colleen couldn’t ever remember Max looking on Molly with any sort of appreciation. Never the way he looked at Colleen. So perhaps there was truth to his words; that he did esteem Colleen’s body more highly. Dear, foolish man.
“Plump and soft and mine.” He twirled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, gradually increasing the pressure. “It’s that ‘mine’ part that I like best of all.”
She gasped. The bite of pain sent a corresponding tug deep in her core. Releasing her nipple, he sucked it into his wet mouth, soothing the sting away. Only to drizzle searing wax over the reddened nub.
Colleen’s mind fractured. Her body tried to twist from the sting even as her sex grew slick with wanting. Colleen pulled at the silk band. “Oh, God. Max, please.”
He smiled and slid lower on her body. He circled her belly button with his tongue and plunged that naughty muscle into her navel.
She arched her back, not understanding how every flick of his tongue in that most innocuous of places could make her core twinge. It was though there were a string attached from her belly button to her center. Every flick of his tongue made the string vibrate, sending small shock waves to her most intimate flesh.
She’d never loved her belly button more.
Raising his head, Max tipped the candle, and a splash of wax filled the hollow of her navel. It burned hot, almost painfully, before banking into a comforting warmth.
Colleen closed her eyes and sagged into the bed. She was done struggling against the sensations. Her body had tensed before each drip of wax, and after each assault tried to sort through the sensations, organize them into pain or pleasure. It was exhausting.
Her mind drifted, a lovely haze settling in her brain. Peace descended. No more anticipation. No more fight. Max blazed a trail of wax from her navel to the top of her cleft, and her skin welcomed the burn. Accepted whatever he meted out.
The mattress dipped, and Max spread one of her legs wide, then the other. He settled in between. “I missed you last night.” The soft pad of his tongue licked between her folds.
Colleen let her thighs fall wider. “I know what you missed.”
He nipped at her outer lip. “When I tell you I missed you, take me at my word.” Circling his tongue around her opening, he eased the tip into her sheath. He fucked her with his mouth, slow and thoroughly.
“Yes, Max.” She would believe anything he had to say at the moment.
“Hmmm.” The vibrations of that sound thrummed across her aching skin, and she moaned softly. He lapped at her essence. “I like it when you’re compliant.”
Bending her knees, she dug her toes into his sides. “Yes, Max.”
She needed more. The baron was the type of man to enjoy a stroll on a country lane. Colleen just wanted to cut across the fields and get to her destination. His unhurried manner was one of his more annoying characteristics.
He spread her folds with his fingers, and his breath ghosted across her moist flesh. As delicate as a cat, he licked her clit.
Colleen bit her lip. His tongue was like velvet: luxurious and soothing one moment and irritating the next when brushed against the grain. It drove her mad and had her begging for more.
She had no warning. One moment his tongue was coiling around her clit like she was his favorite lemon ice, and the next the hiss of wax hitting wet skin sizzled through the air, followed quickly by searing heat. Directly on her tender bundle of nerves.
She arched off the bed. She would have hit the mirrored ceiling if her hands hadn’t been bound to the headboard. Her clit throbbed, pulsing angrily. The beat pounded in time with her heart, filled her ears, until the pain softened to a pleasing ache that spread throughout her body. “Max!” She didn’t know if her exclamation was a reprimand, a plea, or plain shock. Most likely a combination of all three. Her eyes flew open to see the taper hovering dangerously close above her core.
One side of his mouth tipped upwards. “As you are being so accommodating, my love, how about an apology for the apoplexy you nearly gave me when I heard you were occupying this room with Halliwell. All the girls were chittering on about it.” With his thumb, he slowly circled her clit. “That was three minutes of my life I’d never wish to repeat.”
“What?” Her body felt heavy, lethargic. Except for the growing need to be filled. She wiggled her hips, trying to find relief. “You demand an apology now? Another one?” What was it with him seeking out her atonement at the most inappropriate of times? And really, he was nearly as responsible for her actions this time as she was by encouraging her to seek out another man the night before. It hardly seemed just that she be the only one to grovel. “I already explained that I had changed my mind.”
“Yes, but there were still those three minutes when I thought the worst and found you closed in a room with a naked Halliwell.” He blew a steady stream of cool air across her tortured nub.
She groaned. “This is hardly fair.” Insufferable man thought he could get the upper hand on her. Bend her to his will. “You have me in a position of advantage.”
He chuckled. “I know.” He kissed the inside of her thigh, his jaw skating across her damp skin. Where his beard used to abrade, inflaming her skin as it scraped across, the caress of his smooth cheek sent delicate shivers racing through her body. Both sensations were equally enjoyable.
She ran numbers from her ledger in her mind, trying to distract her body. She would not break so easily. If she bought candles from that new shop by the docks, she could save an average of—
Max lowered his head and plunged his rolled tongue inside her channel.
Colleen fisted the silk belt, her wrists grinding together, and rocked her hips into his face. “I am most sorry. So very, very sorry.”
“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” His eyes crinkled mischievously. “And as you were so sincere, here is your reward.” He tipped the candle, and the air hissed, her clit burned.
She couldn’t keep the scream in her throat. She throbbed. It felt like all the blood in her body had pooled in that one spot, like every nerve was threaded through her nub. Nothing else existed except her pounding need.
He bent and lashed her with his tongue. He swiped from her clit to her opening, lapping up her juices, plunging deep inside.
Colleen stared at the ceiling, her breath clogging her throat, watching their reflection. His head was buried between her thighs, her skin flushed pink, the white wax splashed starkly across her torso. The muscles in Max’s shoulders bunched and released as he moved his head. It was the most stimulating sight she could imagine.
Her need built, her body tensing. Digging her heels into his thighs, she thrust her hips up to meet his mouth. He brought her to the crest, held her there, and just as she peaked, he tipped the candle, scalding heat swamping her senses and blending with her ecstasy.
She screamed her throat raw, her body convulsing violently.
Max thrust two fingers into her channel and rode her orgasm out as long as possible. He blew out the candle and tossed it aside.
Colleen’s lungs burned from breathing so hard. Her reflection blinked down at her, a dazed look upon her face. Not giving her time to recover, Max swung her left leg around his head, held both of her ankles to his right shoulder, and prodded his cock at her entrance.
He slid inside, stretching her walls, firing up her over-sensitized nerve endings. He pressed in until the front of his thighs met the backs of hers.
“Sweet Jesus, you feel good.” Max kissed her ankle, wrapping one strong arm below her knees. He rocked his hips back then thrust forwards with a grunt. “Such a sweet little cunny.”
Her channel twitched, still recovering from her last crisis, but Max tunneled past the tightening muscles. Colleen whimpered, her inflamed inner walls feeling every ridge and vein on Max’s cock as he dragged through her flesh. She clawed at the headboard, trying to find purchase. Pressing her palms flat against the smooth wood, she pushed into his strokes, leveraging every ounce of pleasure.
Max dug his fingers into her skin, denting the flesh of her legs. His bollocks slapped against her bum, a rhythmic counter tempo to his grunts. The headboard rocked into the wall, the entire room shaking with the sounds of his pounding. Colleen couldn’t have cared less if the entire club heard them.
Every slide of his length made her nerves tingle. Each time he bottomed out, something pinched deep inside of her, something no man had ever reached. Her body climbed once more.
Max dropped his head back, eyes wide open on the mirror. “Fuck, I love the way your breasts bounce when I drive into you. Perfect breasts. My breasts,” he growled. His hips rocked faster, pounded harder. The tendons on his neck flexed and strained, and a bead of sweat slipped from under his newly-shorn hairline, rolling down his cheek.
He lowered his head, his eyes boring into hers. Reaching one hand down, he slipped his thumb between her thighs and scraped a layer of wax off of her clit.
Colleen’s entire body jerked, and the fabric of her robe’s belt broke from the headboard. She wanted her whole body coated in wax just so she could feel Max peel it from her skin, piece by piece. He’d already scraped away the walls to her heart. Her body deserved no less of a treatment.
Max sucked the tip of his thumb into his mouth. He lowered his hand, bringing it back between her legs. He rubbed the slick digit around her nub. His fingers dug into her stomach, the motion of his hips growing jerky. “Are you close? Please tell me you’re close.”
Colleen could only nod. He was so big inside her, his length growing harder and larger so that she couldn’t feel where he ended and she began. Max increased the pressure of his thumb, bringing her to the edge. He pummeled into her once, twice, fire chasing down her walls, and she exploded.
Fisting the coverlet, her whole body clamped down and shook with her tremors. “Max,” she moaned. Black dots swum before her eyes, and she let go, letting the bliss envelop her.
Max hugged her legs tight, gave a roar, and thrust into her one last time. Heat flooded her core, and his length twitched inside her channel. Closing his eyes, he bit her calf, holding on until the pulses tapered off. He shuddered one last time inside her body and rested his head against her ankles. “Oh, fuck, that was good.”
Colleen blinked and tried to find her voice. Good didn’t even come close to describing what they’d just done. “Mmm hmm.”
His body stiffened. “Oh fuck!”
Raising her arms above her head, she stretched her back languidly and tugged her hands free from the belt. She settled on her side. “You’re starting to repeat yourself. I think we already covered how good it was.”
“No.” He slid out and rolled off the bed. Digging through his coat pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief. “Dammit, I forgot to pull out. I put you at risk.” Striding back to the bed, he cleaned her up, the pressure too heavy on her tender skin to be comfortable.
She tucked her legs to her chin. “Well, that’s not going to help.” She rolled to her back, feet planted on the mattress, knees to the ceiling. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. This wasn’t good. A commoner getting pregnant by a member of the ton never ended well for the woman. Or the bastard child. “I wouldn’t worry overmuch. The chances of my getting with child are low.” She placed her palm on her stomach. “But if it happens, I’m keeping the babe.”
Grabbing her wrist, Max pulled her up to sitting. “And who’s arguing that you wouldn’t?” he demanded. “Do you think I’d order you to give it up?”
“No.” She laid her hand on his chest, burying her fingers in his soft pelt. He would take care of any child. He or she at least wouldn’t starve in the streets. “In eight years of marriage I was only in the family way twice. Let’s not worry until we need to.”
“All right.” He cupped the nape of her neck. “But you’ll let me know?”
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her cheek on his chest. “I will.” They breathed together. “I’m sorry about the fire. I wanted to do it for you, but I couldn’t.”
“I know.” He kissed the top of her head.
“When did you start playing with fire? It’s such an unusual predilection.” Bringing something so dangerous to her bed never would have occurred to her.
His hands stilled on her back. “I’ve always been interested in fire. It seemed natural to incorporate it in all aspects of my life.”
“But there must have been something that sparked your interest?” She smiled. “So to speak.”
He was quiet, rubbing his hands in circles on her back. She didn’t think he would answer. Finally, he said, “Fire has always been beautiful to me.” Sighing, he released her and sat on the edge of the bed. He tugged on her hand, drawing her down beside him.
“There’s much I don’t remember about my early years, but I do remember the poverty,” he said.
“But, you’re a—”
“Baron, I know.” He pulled out the few pins left in her hair and combed the thick mass down her back. “My father was a second son and a bit of a scoundrel. He was supposed to go into the church, but he wasn’t very good at it. It was hard for him to wake up in time for the service, let alone write a sermon. After repeated complaints from parishioners of his drunkenness and licentiousness, my grandfather, the third baron of Sutton, cut him off. After that, let’s just say my father, my mother, and I didn’t live well.”
“I can imagine,” Colleen said faintly. She knew the type of man his father was. She’d seen many in her old neighborhood. Too drunk to put in a day’s labor, relying on the meagre wages of their women to keep them in their cups. “And your mother? What did she do to provide for you?”
“She wanted to help.” Max’s shoulder tensed against hers. “She would have become a charwoman to help put food in our bellies, but father wouldn’t hear of it. The wife of the son of a baron, even a second son, didn’t find employment.”
Colleen took his hand, threading her fingers with his. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “My uncle died. He was returning from the Continent, and the ship he was on sank in a storm. Grandfather wrote for us to join him at Meadowlark, the seat of the barony, since my father was then in line for succession.”
“And the fire?” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. There was so much more to the story than he revealed. The fear of a boy going to bed with his belly aching for food. The uncertainty of not having a parent he could trust to see them through. It was a story all too common in London, but one she didn’t expect from the Baron of Sutton.
“The day my grandfather’s carriage came to collect us, my mother gathered all our clothes, everything except for what was on our backs. She piled them in the yard.” Max stared at the wall, as if seeing that long-ago scene. “She set everything on fire and she held my hand as we stood there and watched it all burn. There was a lot I didn’t understand, but I knew the fire represented a new beginning. A clean start. My mother was crying she was so happy. That fire was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
They sat in silence, holding hands. Colleen rested her head against his shoulder. Her throat was thick, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing she needed to say. She was content to merely sit next to this man. Her future was uncertain. Her plans in a disarray. But she wouldn’t regret a minute of her time with the baron. He truly was the finest man she knew. And she would treasure every moment they had together.
He cleared his throat. “Regardless, that feeling never left me. Growing up, whenever something bad happened, I would start a small fire, usually on the manor grounds, and the flames would settle me.” He turned and looked down at her, his mouth twisting. “My grandfather and parents were not amused, as you can imagine. But they couldn’t stop my fascination.”
“Thank you for telling me.” There wouldn’t have been many people he’d told. Colleen sat up tall. “I’m honored.”
Max opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to say more, then snapped it shut. He scratched his cheek. “Damn, it feels strange without my beard. It will take me a while to become accustomed to.”
Scooting off the bed, Colleen gathered her clothes and began to don them. “You don’t have to get used to it. You could always let it grow back.” She missed his bushy, bear-like appearance. Though she must admit, the face under all that hair was startlingly attractive. The beard had hit chiseled cheekbones and a tiny dent in the center of his chin.
“Summerset would never forgive me if I did that.” Max grimaced. “He almost wept in joy when the hair came off.”
“Interesting friends you have.” She pulled her shirt over her head and turned for the waistcoat. She plucked it off the bureau, and something thudded to the floor.
“You lost something,” Max said, tugging up his trousers.
Colleen clutched the garment to her stomach, staring at the gold watch nestled in the green carpet. Half of a chain swung loose from the buttonhole of the waistcoat.
“Colleen?” Max moved towards her.
“It’s nothing.” She cleared her throat. “The chain to my watch broke.”
“I’m sorry.” He shifted behind her then stepped around and picked up the watch. “It was important to you. I’ll get you a new chain.”
A new chain to her past. She shrugged into the waistcoat, took the watch, and slipped it into her pocket. “No, thank you.” No more chains. “It isn’t worth replacing.” Smoothing down her skirts, she smiled up at Max. “Now, tell me how large an apology I owe Lord Halliwell. Was he merely annoyed at being displaced or was he harmed in the process, as well?”
The tips of Max’s ears flushed red. “He received no less treatment than he had coming to him.”
“Ah. So free membership for half a year, along with prostrating myself with contrition.”
She stepped past Max, and he grabbed her elbow. “No prostrating yourself with him in any form.”
“That was only a figure of speech.” She patted his hand. “Now, are you hungry?” Her own stomach grumbled. “I know the cook has some lovely pheasant down in the kitchens. Tonight is Lord Manderley’s weekly appointment. You know how he likes his bacchanalian feast, and there is always plenty left over.” She caught his expression. “Everything that goes into the red room is disposed of. I’m speaking of food that is never sent up.”
He blew out a breath. “In that case, do you think there’s enough leftovers for seven?”
Pausing at the door, she frowned back over her shoulder. “How hungry are you?”
“With you, I feel like I’m always starving.” He patted her bottom. “But tonight isn’t just about my appetites. Darling, we have company.”