by Golden Angel
“I know you will, but should you?” Lucas chuckled darkly. There was a bleakness in his eyes that worried Rex even more. He almost preferred angry Lucas over this introspective, defeated version. “I need the money, Rex. I cannot tell you why.”
“Then I cannot give you the money.” Rex’s heart ached, but he had to remain firm. The line had been drawn, and to cross it now… No, he could not. No matter how desperate and contrite Lucas truly appeared. “I want to help, Lucas. All you have to do is talk to me.”
“No.” Lucas got to his feet, swaying slightly. Drunk? Possibly. Likely. “You have your own obligations to attend to. A wife. Your estates. You should not have to discharge mine as well. I should not have come.”
Despite his seeming inebriated state, Lucas was as serious-faced as Rex had ever seen him. It seemed Rex’s hard stance had finally born fruit and convinced Lucas to fulfill his own duties rather than relying on Rex to do it for him. That, or it was a very good ruse. The possibility of the latter was why Rex could not bend.
“I want you to be able to come to me,” Rex said earnestly, rising to his own feet as well. “But I am glad to hear you are taking your obligations seriously.”
An odd look crossed Lucas’ face, too fleeting to catch, before settling into his customary expression.
“I will be off, then.” Lucas strode to the door, seeming steadier on his feet than before. At the last, he turned and looked Rex in the eye. “You have always been a good friend, Rex. Perhaps more than I deserved.”
Rex wanted to protest, but deep down, he knew it was true.
“You have often been a good friend to me,” he said instead.
A sardonic smile cracked Lucas’ somber demeanor.
“But not of late. I mean to change that.” Nodding decisively, Lucas exited.
Letting his breath out on a long sigh, Rex could only hope what Lucas said was true. Rubbing his forehead, there was nothing to be done about it now. All he could do was wait and see.
Mary
Having finished everything she knew about the Society’s members—which turned out to be less than she thought, by and large, they were among the most discreet of the ton—Mary found her mind wandering to Rex. The spanking. Whether he had forgiven her. He certainly seemed to have.
Contrary to Cynthia’s advice, he had also been pleased when she had come to him. Then again, considering how much she had been hiding from him, making him chase after her when she owed him an apology would have been expecting too much. Making a face, she shifted uncomfortably on the chair, despite the thick cushion. While she had not minded the apology—or the punishment—the lingering soreness was not particularly pleasant.
Getting to her feet, Mary found some relief in pacing, her weight no longer pressing down on her sore cheeks. The activity also helped her burn off some of the nervous energy that kept growing while she waited for Rex’s return. With what they suspected, Evie would have expected her to eavesdrop on his conversation with the earl, but Mary could not. She did not want to break Rex’s trust again so soon, and if he caught her listening when he trusted her to remain here…
Torn between the conflicting loyalties, she had to choose Rex this time. She was married now, so it was only right that her husband received some of her loyalty, especially to achieve the kind of marriage she wanted to have.
Her heart leapt in her chest when the door finally opened. Rex’s expression was implacable, giving her no clues what the earl had wanted.
“Is everyone all right?” she asked, coming up to him.
“As well as can be.” There was sadness in his eyes, and he was more closed off than before he had left the room. Mary frowned. She had to tell him about Evie’s suspicions, then hopefully, he would be more forthcoming.
“The Earl… he is a member of the Society, and Evie said he has recently incurred a large number of debts…” Her voice trailed off as Rex’s eyes lit from within, blazing. For a moment, he appeared angry, but then the fires banked, and he sighed.
“Of course, she would know that.” He shook his head. “Lucas is no traitor. I would stake my life on it.”
Pressing her lips together, Mary nodded, hoping Rex wasn’t doing exactly that. Though she wanted to believe him, she did not know the earl and had witnessed far too many people’s blindness when it came to those they loved. Rex would believe in his friend, and she would watch Rex’s back.
Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face because Rex frowned, reaching out and pulling her to him. Her body pressed against his hard muscles, she was shocked to feel another hardness already beginning to rouse against her.
Again?!
“I do not wish to talk of Lucas.” Lips curved in a slight smile, lowering to hers, and Mary’s head tipped back to meet them. Trickles of excitement ran down her spine, setting her skin tingling but also amplifying the soreness of her bottom and between her legs.
Could her aching, sensitive parts possibly bear another round of Rex’s impassioned lovemaking? As if sensing her hesitation, Rex chuckled, his lips leaving hers, brushing over her jawline, down the side of her neck, and his hands eagerly caressing.
“Do not worry, petal, I will not overtax you. We shall… play.”
Play it certainly was.
Hands and lips explored as they slowly lost each item of clothing. Mary drifted on a cloud of pleasure, one that buoyed her without threatening to overwhelm her. They took turns caressing, kissing, until Rex laid her out on his desk, right where he had taken her earlier that morning, but now, he sat in his chair rather than standing between her thighs.
Draping her legs over his shoulders, he lowered his head to her slick folds and took his time.
Kissing. Suckling. Licking.
“Touch yourself, petal,” he murmured, his voice soft but clearly issuing an order. “I want to see you touch your breasts. Play with your nipples.”
Even as heat filled her cheeks at the brazenness of the suggestion, she found her hands obediently drifting up to the soft mounds. She touched herself, running her fingers over the sensitive buds, gasping as Rex redoubled the efforts of his lips and tongue. Looking down over the curves of her body, she met his gaze, staring hotly back at her, watching her every move.
The intimacy—his tongue sliding through her folds, his eyes boring into hers—was too much. She closed her eyes against it, though she could still feel his gaze.
Something slick and hard pressed against her bottom, and she cried out. A finger slid into the tight little hole located there, rude and probing, utterly perverse and shockingly pleasurable, despite the slight sting from the breach.
“Rex!” Her hands left her breasts, reaching down to tug on his hair. A small voice gleefully whispered in her head—they warned you. Both Cynthia and Arabella had mentioned it, but she had almost forgotten, and she certainly could not have anticipated how such a wicked invasion would actually feel.
“I told you, petal, I will claim all of you.” His finger thrust deeper, along with his words, leaving no doubt of his meaning. Mary cried out, hips jerking upward, trying to escape the impalement, but there was nowhere to go. Rex’s tongue curled over her clit, his arm over her lower stomach holding her in place, as his finger pushed ever deeper into her bowels.
Whimpering, she clutched his head as a second finger joined the first, stretching her farther. The slight burn was uncomfortable, but not distressingly so, and the unfamiliar feeling of fullness added an unexpected augmentation to her growing ecstasy. The indecent nature of the act enhanced her passion as well, the taboo adding the appeal of the forbidden.
The hard suction of his lips, combined with the devilish intrusion of his fingers, soon had Mary crying out as she fell over the edge of rapture. Her body throbbed, burned, and clenched, increasing the stimulation from Rex’s fingers as they twisted and thrust inside her. Just imagining what it would be like when he actually claimed her there left her trembling and shuddering with wicked delight.
“Michael!” She sh
rieked his name, and he suckled harder, urging her climax to greater heights until he had wrung every last drop of erotic bliss from her body. Only then did he pull away.
Thoroughly pleasured and totally spent, Mary laid in repose on the desk, panting and limp as Rex rose to his feet. Too tired to worry as he gripped his cock, she merely watched as he pumped once, twice, thrice… Hot white fluid streamed out over her body, decorating her flushed skin with its pearly luminescence, marking her with his seed.
Closing her eyes, Mary felt her lips curve in a smile.
Chapter 22
Rex
Married life turned out to be far more comfortable than Rex could have imagined. His wife was every bit as intelligent and quick-witted as she’d seemed and even more adventurous than he had initially realized. If there was something he wanted to try with her, he only had to say so—or lead the way—and she would rise to the challenge.
He still worried over Lucas, but when he checked in with Barnes, it appeared Lucas had returned home for one night before subsequently disappearing again. Barnes did not know where he had gone but said Lucas had paid him full up for the rest of the month. However, Rex did not find that reassuring; it rather set him on edge.
He’s a member of the Society, Mary’s voice whispered in his mind. In debt…
No. Rex did not believe it. He would not believe it. Lucas was impetuous, irresponsible, self-involved, and a scoundrel, but he was not a traitor. If he were being blackmailed or leveraged with his debts, he would have told Rex. He would have. However, Rex could not entirely dismiss Lucas’ odd demeanor or parting words. They lingered in the back of Rex’s mind, rising whenever he had a moment of quiet contemplation.
Fortunately, there were not too many of those. After the first few days of solitude, since he and Mary were still residing in London, they were expected to return to the social scene. It began with a dinner at her family’s house, where Thomas Hood spent the evening glaring at him, Arabella and Mary were constantly whispering, and Walter refused to meet his eyes. At least the Viscount and Viscountess seemed happy with him as Mary was clearly very happy with her position as his wife.
As she should be… the little minx. Rex had taken great pleasure in introducing her to the delights of the bedroom, and she had responded with equal interest and ingenuity, and—once her initial soreness had subsided—was eager to indulge wherever and whenever he wished. While she did not like the crop, and Rex had not even tried the cane, they both found great enjoyment in having him spank her before and during their passionate interludes.
For himself, Rex was so satisfied, he had no thoughts of other women. Far from familiarity breeding contempt, the more time he spent with Mary, the more he was enthralled.
Which was why he was so tense when the evening of Lady Greywood’s soiree arrived. There was nothing to be done, though. Their next meeting with Evie Stuart was only two days away, and Rex wanted to make sure there were no clandestine activities happening other than those which were supposed to be.
It took less than a quarter of an hour for Rex to confirm the temptations of the Society no longer appealed. Far from wanting to join in the activities, he was too busy hanging at Mary’s side and enjoying her reactions to the various scenes being played out. Her wide-eyed curiosity and pleasure in watching were more than enough for him. While he still felt responsible for the Society and its members, he did not desire anyone but his wife.
“There you are, Rex,” Lady Greywood said, swanning up with a gracious smile. “I was not sure you would be here this evening. And Lady Hartford, I am so glad you could join us.” The expression on her face was open and welcoming, entirely without surprise, unlike some of those who had clearly been astonished by Mary’s presence and even more amazed when Rex neglected to quit her side.
Dressed in a long, silky, grey robe, their hostess was completely dishabille but comported herself as if she was in a ball gown, and Mary responded in kind. Despite the activities of the Society, some social niceties were too ingrained to be ignored, and the regular ballroom social patter encompassed them all for a few moments. After the initial greetings, Rex seized his chance.
“Have you seen Devon this evening?” he asked, pretending nonchalance, though his heart sank when Lady Greywood shook her head.
“No, but he has not been around much this year,” she said. A loud cry from a room just across the hall punctuated her response, and all three of them looked that way instinctively before turning back to each other. Lady Greywood’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Ah, Captain Jones is a very enthusiastic addition to the Society. I believe he is enjoying himself very much this evening.”
“Perhaps we should go see what he is up to,” Rex suggested, offering his free arm to Lady Greywood. The three of them decamped, moving to the room where the cry had come from.
Mary
On Rex’s arm, Mary did her best not to cling, not that she was afraid, exactly, but perhaps a trifle overwhelmed. If the little she had seen at the masquerade before Rex had discovered her had been enlightening, tonight was a feast for the senses. With no one trying to hide their identities, they were also not hiding their reactions as they were whipped, flogged, stroked, and pleasured.
Mary felt her knees grow a little weak at the scene that met her eyes upon entering the room. A handsome man, stripped to the waist, stood before a woman tied with her hands over her head to a thick post in the center of the room. Her back was to him, shoulders and bottom striped with bright pink welts, and he was already lifting the whip again. As Rex led her and Lady Greywood around the post, Mary was shocked to see some kind of clips adorning the woman’s nipples, dark red from their confinement, and a chain connecting them that wrapped round the post.
When the whip came crashing down, the woman jerked and screamed as her movement cause the short chain to pull tightly against the post, tugging at her clamped nipples. Mary’s own little buds ached with sympathy and perhaps, a bit of envy. Her inner muscles clenched at the little sobbing noise the woman made, yet the expression of ecstasy on her face was as clear as her agony. Was that how Mary looked when Rex was tormenting her?
“Bloody hell, Rex.” The familiar voice made Mary blink. She had not even realized her cousin was in the room. Wincing, Walter looked at her, then away, color rising in his cheeks. The man beside him, arm wrapped around him, chuckled and winked at her—in a friendly manner, not at all flirtatious. Mary mustered a smile for him, despite her embarrassment.
“Get used to it, Hood,” Rex said, clearly amused. He had released Lady Greywood’s arm, and she was already circulating among the guests, watching this Captain Jones and his willing victim. Rex shifted to stand behind Mary, his arms moving around her. Mary’s blush deepened as she squirmed, and Walter groaned, averting his eyes.
Another little scream from the center of the room only distracted them a little.
“Come, love, if it disturbs you so,” the man beside Walter murmured in his ear. He winked at Mary again, as if to say it was not her fault, before leading Walter out of the room.
Guilt suffused her, though Walter’s lover had not seemed to mind. She twisted slightly in Rex’s arms, so she could look over her shoulder.
“I did not mean to chase them away.”
“It is fine,” Rex reassured her, amused. “I made the decision to come in here and to stay. Walter will become used to your presence, or he will have to move rooms when you are about. As you could see, Roger did not mind. Now, watch. Captain Jones is very good with the whip.”
Yes, he was, and the tableau was highly arousing. Still, now that she remembered there were others in the audience, Mary could not help but cast her eyes around the room, and her eyes widened when she saw another face she recognized. Hearing her gasp, Rex’s arms tightened around her again, perhaps in concern before he realized where she was looking. Elijah was not looking back at her, though. He was watching the Captain and his woman intently, arms crossed over his chest, more as though he was taking in t
he Captain’s technique than as if he was enjoying the display for itself.
Jerking her gaze away from him, she returned to watching the Captain whipping the increasingly aroused woman. By the time he dropped the whip and moved behind her, jerking her hips back so he could ride her from behind, causing the chain to stretch her nipples even more harshly, her body was straining, and her mouth dropped into a pleasured ‘o’ when he drove into her.
Mary panted with her, hyperaware of the arm Rex had around her body, his fingers gently caressing her side. When the woman began to keen, her back arching, clearly in the throes of orgasm, Mary could not stop the shudder that went through her body, imagining herself in such a position, with Rex pumping into her from behind.
The Captain surged, fingers gripping the woman’s hips tightly, and she cried out again before slumping forward, panting for breath. Though there was no applause, a general air of appreciation hung about the room.
“Come,” Rex whispered in Mary’s ear, his breath flowing across her sensitive skin and heating her blood. “We should find our own room.”
Rex
Leading his submissively docile but highly aroused wife from the room, Rex headed toward the back of the house, where Lady Greywood would have more private areas set up for those couples who did not wish to be on display the way Captain Jones and Lady Grant had been.
Passing several couples, he ground to a halt when Rupert Collins stepped out in front of him. Rex had so rarely seen the other man without the Earl of Carlisle beside him, it was odd for him to be alone.
“Collins.” He nodded, about to step around the man, but Collins held up his hand in a plea, stopping Rex. Tightening his hold on Mary, Rex inwardly sighed but stayed his progress. Hopefully, this would only take a moment. “Is Carlisle all right?”
“What? Oh yes, he is fine… I… have you seen the Earl of Devon?”
