Espionage and the Earl

by Win Hollows

  Aunt Tempi whacked Cosette in her shins with her cane, eliciting a screech. “Shut it, you French tart.”

  Elorie laughed, her lungs expanding more than they had in years with the buoyancy of the moment. “I owe you nothing, Mother. Absolutely nothing,” she stated, and for the first time, it felt true. Looking at Celise, who sat with a small smile behind their father, Elorie made a promise. “I’ll come for you, love. You and Wilber will always have a home with us.”

  Her sister’s smile grew as Cosette scoffed in protest.

  She almost didn’t see him, but his face was too riveting to miss. Two rows behind her family, Max’s cousin Asher reclined in an understated suit of deep burgundy, Ivy leaning against him. Elorie smiled at their familiar faces, and Asher winked with roguish approval.

  “Shall we go?” Max murmured, taking her hand.

  “Yes,” Elorie replied. “And never look back.”

  He smiled. “You’re everything I thought I’d never have. Why would I ever look back?”

  And then Elorie found that she could, indeed, run in her monstrosity of a dress as she and Max flew up the aisle and out of the open doors, leaving the biggest scandal of the year in their indifferent wake.

  Epilogue

  Max ran a hand over the polished wood of the piano and chuckled as Porthos bounded from his shoulder down to skitter around on its slick surface. The little creature had decided he liked the vibrations when Max played and provided a strange sort of bobbing dance to his notes.

  “You’ll have to play now, you’ve made him excited,” Elorie told him from where she sat sorting her collection of camel-bone chess pieces on the settee from the other side of the room.

  “Oh, yes, please play, Lord Eydris. It’s so lovely,” Celise said from her trapped position beneath Wilber on the chair opposite Elorie.

  “Never let it be said I could refuse a beautiful blonde anything,” Max replied, sitting down in front of the keys.

  “There are an awful lot of blondes in the British Isles, Eydris,” Elorie commented, passing a pawn between her knuckles. “You’d better learn to say no to most of them, or I’ll have to get out those gorgeous darts you gave me.”

  Max loosened his cravat as he slid his fingers over the keys. “Noted.” It was hard to tell, but he didn’t think she was jesting in the least. His wife wasn’t one to pull punches, so to speak. He sighed as he depressed the first chord, letting the sound mellow his bones.

  The past month in Tripoli had been fun for their honeymoon, but he was glad to be getting into a new rhythm of life here in Sussex. He knew Ellie wouldn’t want to stay isolated in one spot for too long, but it was nice to rest and have a sense of homecoming. It was a foreign feeling he hadn’t experienced in too long, but it was better than he remembered.

  Celise was settling in nicely, becoming even more talkative in that calm way of hers. She was nothing like Camille, but he already loved her as if she were his own little piece of family baggage. Her cat Wilber hadn’t gotten used to his new surroundings quite yet, but it had only been a week since Elorie had marched into her family’s home to bring Celise to live here with them. The molten gray fluff preferred to stay safe on Celise’s lap, but Max had noticed the cat tentatively following Porthos’s chirping across the floor in certain rooms. How that relationship would turn out, he didn’t want to think about just yet.

  Letting his hands warm to the music, he played a ballad he’d heard while in Tripoli, filling in the gaps in his memory here and there with his own variations. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elorie lean back against the cushions with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. His playing still melted her, and he wasn’t ashamed of using it to his advantage when necessary. Where once this room had held the sweet agony of secrets between them, it was now their favorite room to sneak away to in which to share the parts of themselves they could not before.

  As he rose into a crescendo, a knock caused his notes to jar to a stop.

  He looked over to find Blake Cunningham standing in the doorway, accompanied by his butler.

  “Lord and Lady Eydris, may I present Mr. Blake Cunningham,” Corvard announced, rather superfluously.

  Elorie leaped up from the couch. “Mr. Cunningham! What brings you here?”

  The man, stone-faced as usual, stepped into the room. “It seemed that felicitations for your marriage were in order, after all.”

  Elorie laughed.

  Max was suspicious. He’d never known the enigmatic Head of the Division of Foreign Affairs to make house calls. Seeing him here was as incongruous as it was unexpected.

  “May I have a moment of your time?” He glanced at Celise, clearly desiring a private audience.

  Once Celise had left the room, Max and Elorie sat down on the settee in front of him.

  “How are you enjoying married life?” he asked after a moment.

  Max snorted. “Is that what you came here to ask?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve never heard of two agents who supposedly never had any meaningful contact until days before”—he looked at Max with a raised brow—“suddenly getting married.”

  “What can we say, we’re impetuous,” Elorie retorted.

  “Of course,” Cunningham said dismissively. “But now that you do appear to be a team, I have a proposition for you.”

  “What sort of proposition?” Max crossed his arms and leaned back.

  “Lady Eydris once expressed to me the rather improper desire to climb a palm tree whilst not wearing any clothes, so I immediately thought of the two of you when this matter came to me.”

  Max raised his brow and looked at his wife.

  A rare flush made its way across the crests of her cheeks, and she mumbled, “It was before I met you.”

  Cunningham ignored the exchange. “The archipelago of Polynesian islands known as Tonga is experiencing violent political upheaval and has been for some time. A man by the name of George Tupou is attempting to unite the islands into one kingdom. However, there are some who oppose this unification.”

  Elorie leaned forward. “Why?”

  Cunningham’s mouth turned up at the corners, clearly knowing he had her attention. “Because Tupou intends to establish nationwide laws governing limits on whaling in the waters surrounding the islands. As you can imagine, anyone involved in the lucrative business of whale oil desires the current lack of oversight to continue.”

  Now Max was intrigued in spite of himself. “Why does England care about any of this?”

  Cunningham met his eyes. “England cares because Tupou is a friend of Britain’s missionaries and has made assurances that they will experience greater political influence under his reign. The whalers have put a bounty on Tupou’s head, and we have word that several known assassins are making their way to the islands to collect that bounty as we speak. We need these threats eliminated quietly.”

  Max tapped his knee with his forefinger. “And you want us to do the eliminating.”

  Cunningham neither confirmed nor denied the statement, but smiled. “Your backgrounds will ensure you are invited into Tupou’s palace and welcomed as wealthy tourists wherever you wish to go.”

  “Is the Foreign Affairs Department footing this bill?” Max asked wryly.

  Cunningham remained silent.

  “Thought not.”

  “Are you interested?” he asked, and for once, Max could see tiny lines of tension between his brows.

  Max looked at Elorie and shrugged. “Fancy a trip, my dear? It’ll be quite dangerous. We might not be home for months.”

  She smiled at him with a familiar gleam in her eyes. “Could be fun.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles. “It’s not what married couples do, and it’s certainly not what earls and countesses do.”

  “Who gives a fig?” she replied with a wave of her hand. “We can be whoever we want to.”

  He couldn’t believe how much he loved this woman. “I was
hoping you’d say that.”

  Elorie cocked her head. “Now that we’re married, does this mean I have to let you win and take out more assassins than me?”

  Max narrowed his eyes. “Don’t hold back on my account, Viper.”

  She switched to French, and the sensuous sound of it caused his skin to tingle as it always did. “You don’t really think an Englishman is going to best me, do you?”

  “Just because I let you come out on top last night doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you,” he quipped in English. He ran his finger across the inside of her wrist as a reminder of the way he’d tied her hands together the night before.

  Her gaze sharpened on him for an instant before growing hazy, and he knew she was remembering it…

  ****

  “Max, you can’t—” she argued.

  “But I can, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” he told her, cinching the ribbon tighter around her wrists. With her arms fastened above her head as she lay on the four-poster, she wouldn’t be able to get in the way of what he wanted to do to her. It was a rare thing to see the Viper powerless, and Max intended to take full advantage of it.

  He could tell she liked it, with the way her transparent gold nightgown rose and fell at each breath. Though she still tried to work her hands free of the bonds, she swallowed nervously as she began to realize they were not easily undone. Max ran his fingers up the inside of her leg. The knee-length garment rode up high on her toned thighs as she attempted to clamp her legs together at his touch.

  “No, Ellie,” he reprimanded her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I should punish you for that.”

  She laughed. “I’m not some harem girl you can starve if I don’t submit.”

  He smiled in the semi-darkness created by the dying embers of the fire across the room. “There are many ways a woman can be starved.”

  She paused at that, likely trying to decipher his meaning.

  While she was still trying to picture what he meant, he grabbed her hips and flipped her over onto her stomach in one movement.

  She yelped and immediately tried to turn back over, but Max put his hand firmly on the small of her back to prevent her from doing so. Her muffled protests were lost into the pillow upon which her head lay until she turned her face to the side. “This is undignified,” she huffed.

  “Oh, you have no idea.” Max shoved her gown up further, raised his other hand, and gave her a swift smack to her buttocks.

  “Ah!” she shrieked, beginning to struggle again.

  Max chuckled. “I told you I was going to punish you. Hold still.”

  Elorie twisted, but Max trapped her legs between his knees and swatted her again, this time lingering to squeeze the flesh afterward. “People have died for less than this, I hope you know.”

  “So you prefer starvation?” he inquired, soothing his hand over her pinkened skin.

  “Not likely,” she muttered.

  “Let’s try it,” he replied, using both hands to gently massage the globes of her buttocks.

  “Mmmmm,” she purred. “That’s better.”

  Firelight trickled over the contours of her curves as Max took a finger and trailed it down the cleft of her ass. Elorie’s breath hitched at the sensation, and Max followed the path all the way to where her sensitive folds began. The glistening petals were swollen with desire already, and it wasn’t difficult to slide his longest finger smoothly into her core.

  Elorie stifled her moan with the pillow and arched her back to give more access to him.

  Observing her perky buttocks presented to him as they were tightened his breeches around the hard member contained within them. He unbuttoned the placard with his other hand and let the rigid staff fall forward, straining toward where it wanted to be.

  Her tight muscles drew his finger in, and he began to rhythmically push in and out of her warm passage. Hands now gripping the pillow above her head to withstand the sensations, Elorie didn’t seem to care that she was tied up any longer. He could feel the momentum building inside her, and he increased his pace. As her gasps for breath came quicker, Max withdrew his finger completely, trailing wetness back up her right cheek.

  This time Elorie’s moan was one of complaint. “Why did you stop? I was almost…”

  “Almost what, Ellie?” he prompted, enjoying her moment of frustration.

  “Almost, you know!” she complained, twisting to look back at him with dazed eyes.

  “Oh.” He pretended to sound surprised. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Here, let me.” Max parted her sex again and inserted two fingers this time, building up to the same rhythm as before. Elorie writhed, her hips pushing her buttocks higher as she came close to orgasm.

  Just as he felt her thighs begin to clench tight, he stopped, withdrawing again.

  This time, she growled and slapped the pillow with her hands. “What are you doing?”

  Max laughed at the consternation in her voice. “Why, I’m starving you, my dear.”

  Elorie gasped and tried to turn over. “That’s— How dare you?” She struggled against her bonds.

  Max pressed again on her lower back, rubbing gentle circles on it until she stopped trying to turn over. He’d known what he was in for with his spirited wife, and it made times like this all the more satisfying to see her melt for him. Watching her firm backside sway back and forth with the movements of his hand was mesmerizing. She was every man’s fantasy, and yet, here she was, letting him touch her anywhere he wanted. “Shhhh. I’ll give you what you need, little viper.”

  “I’m starting to think you don’t know what that is,” she said wryly.

  “I think I have some idea,” he murmured, moving his hips forward until his cock was pressing against her spread cheeks. The head of his staff rubbed in between the rounded hills, the sweet friction causing ripples of dark desire to echo in his pelvis.

  She sucked in a breath and held perfectly still.

  Seeing her with her hands bound and ass up in the air, ready for him, was a different kind of pleasure. It was the primal heat of conquering and claiming that flowed through his veins, knowing she was his and no one else’s. Knowing she had been desired by many, but only taken by him. It was almost painful how hard she made him with wanting to be inside her.

  Using a hand to guide his member, he found the slick entrance to her and rubbed the tip around the edge to coat his entry. Max groaned as he slid in all the way to the hilt, her tight tissues flexing to accommodate his girth.

  Head swimming with the way her channel gripped him, Elorie’s gasp was music to his ears, and he couldn’t help but swell to even greater proportions as she pressed herself even further back onto him.

  “You like that angle, do you?” Max asked her, the words rumbling from deep in his chest.

  She moaned in response and ground her hips on him in response.

  He would take that as a yes.

  Bright flecks of her blonde hair shone in the firelight as it draped over one shoulder, allowing him to fully appreciate the curves of her back as he pulled out and then thrust forward again. The motion caused her bottom to jiggle, but she didn’t let him push her forward. His viper was strong, and she used every slim muscle to stay exactly where she was, letting him pound into her over and over with exquisite force.

  “Max,” she bit out as he increased his tempo, digging her nails further into the pillow. “Don’t stop.”

  “I never can with you,” he replied, holding her hips in place as he thrust into her passageway.

  She was made perfectly for him, tight and juicy and smelling like heaven with the combination of butterscotch and her own rich arousal. He couldn’t have imagined anything more stimulating than making his wife come while being inside her. To that end, he slid one hand around the outside of her hip and down between her legs in the front.

  As soon as he touched the tiny nub surrounded by softly mounded flesh, she jerked with a small cry. He massaged the sensitive bud in the way he knew drove her wild:
up and down with very light pressure. Her legs began to shudder, but he kept up his rhythm of forceful thrusts, letting her clit rock forward into his hand with each movement.

  “I can’t take it,” Elorie moaned in between shallow pants.

  “I think you can take quite a bit,” he retorted, slamming into her backside harder to make his point.

  She made a sound of supplication, and he knew all he had to do was keep doing exactly what he was doing to get her there. Her groans went up in pitch, and the muscles around his cock began to tighten.

  Gritting his teeth to hold back his own pleasure, he concentrated on her, feeling what she was feeling, knowing the ebb and flow of her coming orgasm. She was right on the cusp, and the knowledge almost undid him. Using two fingers, he moved them over her peak with relentless flicks until, finally, she arched her back and let out a scream that he was sure the maids heard below stairs. Her legs shook with every wave that passed through her, and Max felt the walls of her passage lock down and flood with sweet nectar as she came. Ellie was always completely out of control at this moment, and he enjoyed every lovely second of the pleasure he wrung from her supple body.

  Her body began to relax as the pleasure dissipated, and his cock wanted nothing more than to spill inside her right then, but Elorie pulled herself off of him in a fluid movement. “What—?”

  She turned over, and without using her hands at all, hooked her leg over his shoulder and flipped them so that she now sat atop him. It was the same move she’d used on him in the Indian curry house, and he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he let out a bark of laughter.

  “Now where were we?” she purred, looking down at him with her ribbon-tied hands on his chest. Her eyes were pools of mischief, and Max enjoyed seeing her take pleasure in her own power.

  “I believe you were right about…” He adjusted her hips so she hovered about his throbbing shaft. “Here.”

  She wiggled a bit and then sank down on him, impaling herself fully. “Ah. You thought I was helpless without these?” She raised a brow and looked down at her hands.

  “I think you’re many things,” Max growled. “But never that.”