Wicked Deception

by Carole Mortimer

  He nodded. “In a moment. Perhaps,” he added doubtfully. His erection showed no signs of abating as he watched Heather walk across the sand to join her son, her legs bared up to her drawers at the sides and her shapely knees at the front.

  She seemed more relaxed in his company today, less guarded, and while that was a good thing for Ralph and for Maxim’s enquiries, it was playing havoc with his self-control. Something that was never at a premium around Heather to begin with.

  “Join us, Maxim!” Ralph called out from where he and his mother were stepping over rocks to where the pools of seawater were gathered between them.

  “I—” Maxim almost swallowed his tongue as he looked up in time to see Heather bend down to look more closely in one of the rock pools. The front of her gown gaped open to give him a clear view of the fullness of her delectable breasts. Breasts and nipples Maxim knew were ultrasensitive when played with or sucked. “In a few moments.” His voice sounded strained even to himself.

  Dear God, this was purgatory. Utter and absolute bloody purgatory.

  Nor did the bombardment of desire let up in the slightest once he had removed his boots and hose and joined Heather and Ralph at the rock pools.

  Close to like this, it was possible to see Heather’s rosy red nipples every time she bent over to point out something of interest to Ralph, causing Maxim’s cock to jerk in response each and every time. After fifteen minutes of those tantalizing glimpses, the hardness of his cock had become an actual pain.

  Heather looked up at him in concern as he let out an involuntary groan. “Did you stub a toe on the rocks?”

  He shot Ralph a glance, grateful to see that the little boy was some distance away watching some small fish swimming in a larger pool. Maxim’s gaze felt heated as he turned back to Heather. “If I am given one more glimpse of your nipples, Ralph or not, I will have no choice but to throw up your skirts and fuck you senseless.” He hissed the words so that Ralph should not hear them.

  Heather’s cheeks blazed with heated color as she immediately straightened. “I had not realized…” Her gaze moved down to where she could see a sizeable swelling beneath the material of Maxim’s pantaloons, before moving quickly back to his face. “Fuck me senseless?” she repeated incredulously as the full import of his words struck home.

  He drew in a ragged breath. “At the very least.”

  She should be angry at Maxim’s crassness. At the very least, outraged. Instead, Heather felt her nipples engorge and press against the bodice of her gown, between her thighs becoming hot and damp. She had also allowed too many seconds to tick by for her to behave the outraged widow.

  “Brave words when we have Ralph as chaperone,” she taunted.

  A nerve pulsed in his clenched jaw. “Then I shall make it a promise for when we are next alone.”

  “Words do not frighten me either, Maxim.”

  He arched one brow. “You do not believe me to be a man capable of carrying out what I threaten?”

  Oh, Heather knew Maxim was perfectly capable of fucking her senseless. That he had done so in the past. “I am no longer that inexperienced maiden you once knew, Maxim,” she derided.

  “One more glimpse of your nipples,” he repeated, “and I promise I will personally assess exactly how much more experienced you are,” he assured her harshly.

  Heather had no idea what imp of madness entered her at that moment. Perhaps it was the mystery of Maxim’s scars and his obvious reluctance to talk about them. Or perhaps it was that bulge in his pantaloons, along with the heat in his gaze and the pleasure it promised.

  Whatever the reason, she held Maxim’s gaze as she slowly and deliberately bent at the waist, knowing her gown would be gaping at the front, revealing the swell of her breasts and her hard and aroused nipples.

  “You are playing with fire, Heather,” Maxim warned through gritted teeth.

  “No, I am playing with you,” she replied huskily.

  “You—”

  “Can we fly my kite now, Maxim?” Ralph, obviously bored with the rock pools, suddenly appeared at their side. “Can we? Please?” he wheedled at Maxim’s lack of a reply.

  Maxim’s held Heather’s gaze for several more long seconds. “Challenge accepted,” he murmured so that only she could hear before he turned to accompany Ralph. They walked across the sand to collect the kite.

  Heather’s cheeks burned, and her heart was beating loudly as she slowly followed them.

  What had she done?

  Deliberately.

  Recklessly.

  Chapter 9

  “Why the look of surprise, Heather?” Maxim drawled as he entered her bedchamber without so much as knocking first. He kept his intense gaze fixed on her standing across the room as he closed the door softly behind him. “Surely you realized I would waste no time in meeting your challenge?”

  They had returned from the cove half an hour ago, Ralph to return to the nursery for his bath before tea, Heather to remove her gown and freshen up and rest before dinner. Until now, she had assumed Maxim was doing the same.

  Heather eyed him warily as he stepped farther into her bedchamber. She was very aware of the fact she was only wearing a black silk robe over her matching chemise and drawers. “It was just a game, Maxim.”

  “A game I am about to win.” Maxim continued to look at her as he peeled off his perfectly tailored superfine and draped it over the back of the chair beside the window.

  She snorted. “You always were an arrogant ass.”

  He gave a slow and confident smile as he untied and removed his neckcloth before placing it on the chair with his jacket. “I have never claimed to be any other.” He began unfastening the buttons on his waistcoat.

  Heather’s nervousness increased. What would he unfasten next? His pantaloons? He had not been wearing drawers the last time he unfastened those in front of her. “It was a game, Maxim,” she insisted, her tone sounding half-hearted even to her own ears. She knew only too well how capable Maxim was of ensuring she enjoyed his lovemaking.

  His gaze became flinty. “I do not play those sort of games, Heather. Not with myself or with other people.” He placed his waistcoat on the chair with his jacket and neckcloth.

  She tilted her head to one side as she studied him. She had more insight after seeing the scars on his body the previous night as to what had happened to change him from the carefree man he had once been to a relentless, occasionally cruel man. Nor, she noticed with a tightening in her chest, had he removed his shirt to bare his chest, where she knew the worst of those scars were placed.

  “Are you still wearing the black silk drawers?”

  She looked at him uncertainly. “Yes.”

  “Remove your robe.”

  “Maxim—”

  “Now.”

  She had never been able to resist obeying when Maxim used that dominating tone. Nor did she disobey him now as her shaking fingers unfastened the belt of her robe and she allowed the silk garment to slide down her arms before dropping to the floor. She wore only her black silk chemise and drawers beneath, the chemise so low cut, it revealed the tops of the rosy areolae surrounding her nipples.

  “Take down your hair,” Maxim instructed gruffly.

  She moistened her lips. “Are you sure you wish to do this, Maxim?”

  “Very,” he assured her.

  The certainty of his confirmation sent shivers of anticipation down the length of Heather’s spine. Nevertheless… “If we do this, it will change things between us irrevocably,” she warned.

  His mouth twisted. “Considering you currently believe me to be a man you can taunt without fear of repercussion, that is not such a bad thing.”

  Heather frowned at the hardness of his tone. “People in Society flirt all the time—”

  “We are not in Society right now,” he reminded her. “Nor do I flirt. With anyone. Ever. Now would you please take down your hair,” he repeated.

  That request and the please were Heather’s undoing. Her
hands shook as she removed the pins and placed them on the dressing table before giving a shake of her head to allow her hair to cascade down the length of her spine.

  Maxim sat down on the end of her bed. “Come here.”

  She slowly crossed the bedchamber until she was standing in front of him.

  “Straddle my thighs.”

  Her eyes widened. “No—”

  “Yes.” He pulled her forward and down until her legs were placed either side of his, her silk-covered pussy flush against his rapidly hardening cock, her bottom on his muscular thighs.

  “Maxim—” Heather’s words were cut off as Maxim’s mouth claimed hers.

  As had always been the case, Heather had no defenses against Maxim or the desire quickly rising within her as his lips devoured hers, the moistness of his tongue sliding across her lips before breaching them to lick and taste the heat of her mouth.

  Heather’s body felt hot and awash with desire as those intimate kisses continued. She wanted more, needed to touch—

  “No!” Maxim abruptly ended the kiss, his hands tightly gripping her wrists as she would have placed her hands beneath his loosened shirt. “I do not like to be touched,” he added harshly.

  And Heather knew why that was. The caress of her hands and fingers beneath his shirt would allow her to discover and trace all those scars on his body. Scars Maxim did not wish her to know existed, let alone touch.

  Just her? Or did he allow other women to know about and touch those scars?

  A shard of jealousy ripped through her at the thought of Maxim allowing other women that degree of intimacy while denying her.

  Her chin tilted. “I seem to recall you enjoyed it enough in the past.” Her expression was triumphant as she shook off his hands to slowly and deliberately lift his shirt. “You— What are you doing?” she cried out as Maxim grasped her arms before turning and then tipped her sideways, until she was no longer straddling his strong thighs but lying across them.

  “I would have thought that was obvious,” he bit out.

  “Let me up this instant!” One of Maxim’s hands was pressed firmly against Heather’s back, preventing her from doing any more than kick her legs in the air and pummel her fists against the hardness of one of his booted calves. Her loosened hair flowed down over her face, her breasts having fallen fully from the top of her chemise. “You bastard— Oh!” she cried out as Maxim’s other hand landed against the cheeks of her bottom, not hard enough to hurt exactly, but certainly enough to cause a heat that spread out and then gathered between her thighs. “You—”

  “Swear at me again and you will receive another one on top of the ten I had already decided to give you in retribution for your teasing behavior on the beach,” he warned her grimly.

  Heather turned her head to glare at him. “That is the reason you are here, so that you might spank me for teasing your earlier?”

  “Yes,” he confirmed with satisfaction.

  “Then you are a bastard, nor do you have the right to decide anything— Oh!” Her head lowered, and she cried out again as another, harder smack landed on the left cheek of her bottom. Quickly followed by another to the right cheek, causing more heat to radiate between Heather’s thighs, her nether lips instantly plumping and becoming slick with her juices.

  Oh God, she could not— She must not become aroused by having Maxim spank her. It would be too humiliating—

  “What is this?” Maxim’s voice was a soft taunt against her ear. His fingers pushed aside the gusset of her silk drawers to stroke the pouting lips between her legs before retreating. “Mm, delicious.”

  Heather glanced up and then quickly down again at the sight of Maxim licking the juices of her arousal from his fingers. “I hate you,” she told him vehemently.

  He landed another smack across her bottom. “That is not hate I feel—and taste—between your thighs,” he mocked.

  No, it wasn’t, and Heather had never felt so humiliated. Not from the spanking but from her response to it. How could a grown woman possibly— “Ooh,” she groaned as another hard smack landed on the already stinging left cheek of her bottom.

  To add to her humiliation, she knew that groan was one of pleasure rather than surprise or pain. The aroma of her arousal permeated the air.

  “Only seven more to go, sweetheart,” Maxim told her dryly.

  Heather felt sure she would have died from her determination not to beg him for release before he attained anywhere near that number!

  “Perhaps it would be more effective if we removed these,” Maxim murmured before there came the sound of silk ripping and Heather’s drawers landed in a bundle of black silk on the carpeted floor in front of her. The coolness of the air on her bared flesh was like a caress on her pussy and the heat of her bottom. “Mm, these are becoming a nice shade of rose pink.” His hands cupped and squeezed the throbbing cheeks of her bottom. “But I think a little more color is called for.” He landed two successive blows, one to each cheek. “Better, but still not quite enough…” he added with satisfaction before those smacks began to land in earnest, one after another without cessation.

  Heather was no longer capable of speech, could only feel as those smacks caused the heat between her thighs to grow to an unbearable degree. She was sure the ready flow of her juices from her pulsing channel must be dampening Maxim’s pantaloons as she rubbed her mound against him in an effort to attain the release she so desperately needed and which he had no intention of giving her.

  As for the cheeks of her bottom…

  Those twin globes felt as if they were on fire, hot and tingling, and no doubt that deeper shade of color Maxim said he was aiming for.

  He was also very aroused, his cock now fully hard and pulsing against her side.

  It had been Maxim’s intention to punish Heather for having teased him so mercilessly among the rock pools earlier. Instead, she had become fully aroused, her cries now aching groans as she lift her bottom to meet each smack he administered. Those breathy groans and the perfume of her arousal had caused his cock to harden to a painful degree.

  Had he responded so readily to any woman since the two of them had been together for that summer six years ago? Somehow he doubted it. No, he knew he had not. Having Heather’s soft and desirable body draped across his thighs was almost enough to bring him to the knees he had told Wessex he would never fall to for any man or woman. Not in surrender, but from pleasure.

  So much pleasure, Maxim feared he might come in his pantaloons without so much as touching Heather intimately. His senses were further tormented by the red globes of her ass and the tantalizing glimpses of the swollen lips between her thighs each time she arched up into the pleasure and pain of his hand landing on her bared and heated flesh.

  Heather was as close to release as he was.

  A discomfort that could easily be rectified.

  Maxim moved so that he could swing Heather up in his arms. She offered no word of protest, her body boneless, her head lolling against his shoulder before he placed her down on the bed, her hair a wild cascade of reddish-brown curls against the pillows. She gave a groan as her reddened ass came into contact with the bedcovers, but made no effort to turn on her side to relieve that ache.

  Maxim smiled as he stretched out beside her, his gaze moving down over the fullness of her breasts and the black silk camisole, until it reached the dampness of the curls covering her mound. Her clit was so swollen and aroused, he could see the red and engorged organ peeping out from among those dark curls.

  He wanted her completely naked. To be able to slake his lust on all of her. Every single delicious inch of her.

  He slipped the thin straps of her camisole down her arms enough so that he could pull on the garment and completely free her breasts.

  They were definitely plumper than he remembered, and the nipples that much darker rose in color. Both, no doubt, a result of her pregnancy and motherhood.

  Well, there was no baby to latch on and suckle her now. Only Maxim�
�s lips as he drew one hardened nipple into the heat of his mouth and sucked relentlessly, knowing how much Heather enjoyed having her nipples played with. One of his hands cupped the other breast, and his fingers tweaked and pulled on the nipple in the exact way he knew would bring her to completion.

  He smiled his satisfaction as her back arched up off the bed at this dual assault on her senses, only to groan his approval when her fingers became entangled in his hair and she held him close against her.

  He could feel and hear her building excitement as her nipple hardened in his mouth and she began to make the soft mewling noises he knew were a signal of her approaching climax.

  He bit down on the turgid flesh in his mouth at the same time that his fingers squeezed its twin. He continued to suck and squeeze her nipples as Heather’s body jerked and arched up against his as she reached a long and body-trembling release.

  Heather’s eyes were bright and unfocused, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly parted, when Maxim finally raised his head to look at her. The evidence of his stubbled jaw showed red on the creamy skin of her breasts as he pulled the camisole lower still—

  “No.” Her fingers curled about his wrist, the color deepening in her cheeks when he frowned at her. “I have— Pregnancy leaves— I have marks that were not there before. From where I carried Ralph,” she admitted self-consciously.

  In the same way Maxim carried the scars of his lengthy imprisonment and torture.

  His brow cleared at that realization. Perhaps he need not feel so self-conscious about his own visible scars after all.

  Not that they were at all the same as Heather’s, he discovered as he pulled the camisole down and saw the silvery lines on her abdomen, evidence she had carried and given birth to a child. These were the marks of a battle fought and won, whereas his—

  “Do you hate them?”

  He blinked to refocus on the woman looking up at him so uncertainly. Not just any woman. Heather. The woman he had once believed would be his future. The woman he had lost to his own father.