“Max, I want another favor.”
His gaze remained focused on the place between her legs. “Anything, darling.”
“Will you be my first?”
He froze, his eyes locking with hers while his fingers dug into her thighs. “Your first time should be with your future husband. Not me. I cannot marry you.”
Lord, she was tiring of hearing him say that.
She pressed harder on the taut bud and her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. “Why should I wait . . . to bestow this honor . . . on a nameless and faceless future husband?”
He licked his lips, his expression turning decidedly predatory. Like he was imagining all he wished to do to her. Streaks of white-hot pleasure rolled along her spine.
“You want me to ruin you.” His voice was rough, with sharp edges and unyielding authority. He could command an army with that tone. God knew she’d do anything he asked when he spoke to her like that.
“Yes, I do.” Then she landed a blow of her own. “Please, Your Grace.”
As if on cue, his right eye twitched. “You’ll regret it.”
Impossible. She’d dreamed of this for so long, and he had exceeded her imaginings, the elaborate fantasies she’d concocted in her head over the years. The real man was infinitely more alluring, more caring, and there was no reason to hold back. She wanted to drown in him, to lose herself in his breath and surrender to his caresses. “No, I won’t.”
“Stand up.”
She crawled off his lap and stood on the floor. Max rose and towered over her. “You still wish to do this? You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes.”
“You are going to be the death of me. Let’s go.” Not bothering with clothes, he took a hold of her wrist and led her to the back corner of the study. Where were they going?
He pushed a section of the wainscoting, and the wall popped open.
“A secret passage?” How thrilling.
“Go.” He ushered her into the darkness, then flicked a switch that illuminated a single bulb. A set of stairs waited to the left. “Climb.”
She ascended the stairs, Max right behind her. She could sense him, large and looming, and her skin crackled with awareness, every cell vibrating with readiness. Was this truly happening?
At the top of the stairs, he reached to open a latch, then pushed on the wood. Beyond, a bedchamber was revealed. His bedchamber.
Her heart pounded, a steady thrumming of disbelief that she was finally here after so many years of dreaming about it. It was like she’d been invited into Heaven—or more like Hell. This was Ravensthorpe, after all.
She walked inside, her wide gaze taking it all in. A huge dark walnut bed dominated the space, while an armoire, side table, and single leather chair comprised the remaining furniture. Sparse artwork on the walls. As decadence went, the space left quite a lot to be desired. Standing by the bed, she dragged her fingertips over his simple bedclothes. “Hmm.”
“You sound disappointed.” He closed the panel in the wall. “What were you expecting?”
“Velvet and gilding, I think. A list of men you’re exacting revenge upon. Perhaps a special coitus chair, like the one the Prince of Wales supposedly owns in France.”
He made a choking sound, his eyes bulging. “How on earth do you know about that chair?”
“Have you seen it?” His lips flattened, and she had her answer. “Tell me. I overheard ladies discussing it in Paris at a ball.”
“I will not. And I’d rather discuss you than Bertie. Are you certain about this? You may change your mind at any time, you know.”
Even though she was feeling shy and longing for a dressing gown, Violet had never been more certain of anything in her life. “I want this. I want you.”
He pulled her close with one arm and used his free hand to roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Have I told you how much I adore your breasts?”
“You do?”
“Very much so. I would love to pierce these gorgeous nipples with jewelry. Did you hear of that when you were in Paris?”
That was something people did? “No.” She watched his hand, her breath stuttering as his thick fingers pulled and massaged the tip of her breast. Each movement sent spikes of pleasure straight between her legs.
“It’s in fashion these days. Rings that hang from the breast, sparkling with gems. I could tug on them gently, give you a tiny bite of pain. Would that be rough enough for you?”
“I think I might like that,” she said, feeling dazed, drunk on his presence. Yet his talk of the future penetrated the fog in her brain. “So, does this mean we’ll continue to see each other?”
Clever girl. Max should have known she’d pick up on that. “For now, let’s focus on your request, shall we?”
She reached to stroke his shaft. “Just tell me what to do.”
Max groaned and struggled for composure. He knew this was a mistake. He had no right to take her virginity, but he was past the point of talking her out of it. She was a grown woman and if this was what she wanted, then who was he to deny her?
His erection was so painful, he had to grit his teeth. Twice he’d nearly orgasmed while watching her pleasure herself and if he didn’t spend soon, his balls might explode.
Still, he had to make this good for her.
He stilled her hand and gestured to the bed. “Lie back on the mattress.”
The bed was the perfect height for him to feast on her cunt, and he wasted no time in doing so as soon as she was in position. He kissed and licked her, leaving no bit of skin untended between her legs. He even brushed his tongue over the puckered rose of her bottom, which caused her to gasp, and he made a mental note to return to that area someday soon. Oh, the pleasures I will give you, my little mouse.
“Max, please,” she begged, her thighs trembling aside his head. “Your Grace. Oh, please.”
He couldn’t resist her when she begged in that tone, so he tongued her clitoris, suckling while sliding his index finger inside her. Her walls gripped his skin, reminding him of the narrow width of her opening. You cannot hurt her.
On his wedding night, he had tried to prepare Rebecca, but she’d wanted the whole business done quickly. Max had assumed his wife’s reticence had been nerves during her first time, but it soon became clear Rebecca didn’t enjoy their coupling. At all. No amount of preparation had pleased her.
He had to do better by Violet.
Her hips soon met the pumping of his hand, his finger slipping easily into her quim, so he added another. Violet’s fingertips curled into the bedclothes, fabric bunching in her palms as she mewled in her throat, her body undulating toward its peak. “Oh, God.”
By the time he used three fingers, she was drawn tight, shaking with need. Then the taut bud swelled and tightened in his mouth and she broke, her walls clenching around his fingers, milking them, and Max nearly came on the floor. Goddamn, he could not wait to be inside her.
Rising, he climbed onto the bed and slid between her thighs. “Lift your knees.”
She obeyed without question, spreading herself open, her sex flushed from her orgasm, the skin glistening with her slickness. Had he ever seen anything more arousing in his life? Gripping the base of his cock, he lined up at her entrance then paused. His chest heaved as desire clawed inside him like a rabid beast, desperation a fever in his blood. “Are you certain?”