A Scandalous Arrangement (25 page)

He leaned down to kiss her hair, now gorgeously tumbled from the pins that had made a valiant attempt to hold it in place all evening. “Victoria, we’re here.”

“What?” she mumbled, burying her face in his dinner jacket.

“We’re home. You need to wake up. Unless you prefer me to carry you inside.”

“You can’t carry me. I’m too tall.” She made no discernible attempt to lift her eyelids.

“You would do well not to challenge me, my sweet slut. I’m sure you can guess where that will end.”

Now she opened her eyes. He smirked to himself.

“Come on, sweetheart. It’s time for bed.”

“I can’t sleep with you. My mother…”

“I know. I have no intention of offending anyone’s delicate sensibilities; well, not your mother’s anyway. I meant for you to be in your bed, me in mine. Come on.”

He reached to open the carriage door, Victoria still cradled on his lap. Despite her expressed doubts he experienced no difficulty at all in stepping down from the vehicle with her in his arms. The hired carriage dismissed, Adam headed up the short flight of steps to the front door.

Adam managed to open the door, then stood Victoria on her feet while he turned to secure it behind them. He left the key where he found it, in the lock. Victoria tottered along the hall in the direction of the central, ornate staircase as her hairpins finally relinquished the fight. Adam paused to collect a handful of them from the floor, then followed her up the stairs.

Halfway along the landing Victoria stopped. “This is my room.” She looked up at him, her expression less sleepy now. “I’ll see you at breakfast. And, can I thank you again for accompanying me this evening? I had such a good time, and I usually hate these functions.”

“I don’t doubt the first prize for export, and a joint second for your fine worsted helped to jolly the evening along. Congratulations, Miss Wynne. You did well.”

She yawned, but he caught the light of pride and excitement glittering in her eyes. “It is not just my work that has been recognised. My workers deserve our thanks too.”

“Perhaps you could offer them a bonus. Or a day’s holiday.” Adam was a great believer in rewarding the efforts of his trusted staff.

“Yes, I will. I’ll talk to Mr. Timmins; he’ll know what’s best.”

“Do that. After you promote him to manager.”

She gave him a brief nod, absently rubbing her satin-clad bottom. Adam believed she might heed his lesson this time. But if not…

“Goodnight, Victoria. Sleep well.” He bent to kiss her forehead, then thought better of such a chaste parting and covered her mouth with his. He slid his tongue between her lips to taste her, to explore, to delight in the heady flavours she offered. Her arms came up around his neck, and she was kissing him back. Her tongue danced with his as she responded to him, demanding as well as giving. His cock leapt to attention but it was no good. The parlour had been pushing it. Here on the upstairs landing, her mother sleeping just yards from them, was taking a sexy romp too far. Reluctantly he broke the kiss to rub his nose against hers. “Go to bed, little one.” He reached around her to open the bedroom door. Victoria smiled at him and stepped inside.

* * *

Victoria was wide awake. She had been exhausted in the carriage home and fell asleep almost as soon as the wheels started turning. She had been dead to the world, knew nothing of the journey until Adam roused her to come into the house. Sometime between that and actually climbing into her bed, she had become wide awake and now saw no prospect of sleeping again. She might have tried, might have had a chance of catching a few more hours of peaceful slumber, were it not for the knowledge that Adam Luke was asleep just yards away. Two doors along the hallway, he lay in their guest bedroom. She would not see him again for several weeks, maybe months. Transatlantic travel was an unpredictable business. He had told her his plans, but who could say for sure when he would return?

She rolled over, still sore from the spanking though the discomfort in her bottom as she rubbed against the bedclothes only served to arouse her all over again. Who would have imagined that she could become so stimulated just at the mere memory of being spanked? Victoria possessed sufficient self-awareness to appreciate that it was not just the spanking. It was also the manner of it, and the setting. Adam had pushed her boundaries, challenged her principles and values, and her sense of what constitutes proper behaviour. And he had won.

So had she. He had liberated her. She had broken the rules, and the sky had not collapsed on her. No thunderbolts, no lightning, not so much as a raised eyebrow from Maisie the downstairs maid as she returned the Sheraton to its accustomed position beside the window. Provided they were discreet, and both gained pleasure from the things they did together, she and Adam were free to enjoy each other. She would not have believed that, but the proof was there in her bruised derrière and her throbbing clit. No one’s business but her own. And Adam’s.

Ten minutes later she sat up and plumped her pillows behind her. She had abandoned all thoughts of sleep, far too agitated, too disturbed at the knowledge he would leave tomorrow. He would be gone soon after breakfast, she supposed. She would miss him so much. She missed him already.

“Damnation, why not?” Victoria muttered to herself as she clambered from her bed and stepped into her soft slippers. She took her wrap from the hook on the back of her wardrobe door and pulled the satin around her shoulders. A glance at the clock above the fireplace told her the time was after two in the morning. She ignored the ungodliness of the hour, fastened the belt on her wrap, and headed for the door to the landing, her step determined.

She reached Adam’s door and paused. Should she knock? Probably, but she was here now, and it would be a pity to disturb anyone else who might still be awake at this hour.
Discretion,
she reminded herself.
No one’s concern but our own.
She reached for the doorknob and turned it.

The bed was empty. Bathed in watery moonlight rippling through the open window, it was clear the covers had not been pulled back. Adam’s dinner jacket lay strewn on the eiderdown and his burgundy bow tie dangled from the foot of the bed. Other than those, she saw no immediate sign of him. Victoria entered the room and peered around.

“Did you forget something, Miss Wynne?”

His lazy, amused voice emerged from a shadowed corner at the far side of the room. Victoria spun around, muffling her shriek with her hand. “Oh, you gave me a shock!”

“Oh? Did you not expect to find me in here then?” His jocular tone did not deceive her for a moment. He was toying with her. And not in the least surprised by his nocturnal visitor.

“Yes, of course. But I thought you would be in bed.”

“Do you normally come visiting your male guests when you believe them to be in bed?” He leaned down and she saw that he was untying his shoelaces. He was already shirtless, his sculpted chest gleaming pale in the thin light cast by the moon.

“I wanted to see you. One last time, alone.”

“Oh?” he stood, barefoot now and crossed the room. He passed her to pick up a lamp from the dressing table behind her. He lit it, casting a warm glow around the room. “So, now you do indeed see me. What next, Miss Wynne?”

“I want to sleep with you. Sir.”

“I see. And what about your mother?”

“I do not believe she wishes to sleep with you. She has not said so if she does.”

Adam laughed out loud. “Ah, Victoria, you delight me. So prim, but with the soul of a strumpet.” He moved to stand before her, so close her nose was almost nudging his chest. “I adore your taste in nightwear, but if you wish to share my bed you are overdressed for it.”

Victoria untied the belt and slipped the wrap from her shoulders to puddle on the floor behind her. She stood still in just her sheer silk nightgown, which she knew to be as close to transparent as made no real difference. Adam stepped back to peruse her more thoroughly. He lifted a finger and swivelled it to indicate she was to turn around.

Victoria obeyed.

“I was mistaken. You are dressed perfectly. You may keep that on, at least for a while. I see your bottom is still glowing. Is it sore?” His tone was matter-of-fact, but with a thread of dominant steel running through it that turned Victoria’s insides to melted butter.

She swallowed hard before answering him. “It does hurt, sir, but I like it.”

“As do I, little slut. But you are not here for a spanking, are you?”

She shook her head. “No, sir. I want to sleep with you. Make love with you. One last time, before you leave.”

“Still seeking to conceive the next generation of Wynne mill owners, Victoria?”

His tone was gentle, not judging, but still his words stung her. She turned her head to look him in the eye, over her shoulder. “Yes, I do want a baby, but that is not why I am here. I want you, sir.”

He stepped forward to put his hands on her shoulders, bent his head to nuzzle her neck. “And I want you, sweet slut. Go kneel on the bed.”

Victoria took no further urging. She turned, stepped around him, and made her way over to the large bed. She picked up his jacket and tie and placed those on a nearby chair, then scooted up onto the mattress. She knelt in the middle, facing him.

“Turn around, and lean forward. Put your face on the bed and lift your bottom high. I want your knees apart, as wide as you can.”

Victoria did as he asked. Her face was buried in the eiderdown so she could see nothing of what he was doing, but she heard sounds—a drawer opening then closing again, footsteps moving around the room. She felt the dip of the bed as he sat on the edge of it, behind her.

“Such a beautiful arse, little Victoria,” he murmured as he laid his palm on the silk covering her buttocks. “So round, so perfect. This is a bottom made for spanking. And for fucking.”

“Sir?” Victoria only dimly understood what he might mean, but she was ready to learn. “What would you like me to do?”

“Nothing. Just try to relax, and obey me. And trust me not to harm you.”

“I do trust you, sir. Absolutely.”

Adam’s response was to lean across to nibble the tender skin at the side of her waist. Through the gossamer silk his touch seemed even more delicate, more tantalising. Victoria trembled, just a little, but he knew.

“You trust me, but you are still afraid.”

“Maybe a little, sir. No one has ever… done that before. Touched me there, I mean.”

“Here? Your waist?” He repeated his tender nuzzling, now gently nipping her with his teeth through the filmy nightdress.

“No, not there.”

“Where then? Tell me.”

“My, my bottom, sir.” Despite her newly discovered liberated self, Victoria still struggled to verbalise the words.

“Ah, you mean here?” He shifted to lay a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of her right buttock. “And here.” He moved around to offer the same treatment to her left cheek.

“Not there exactly, sir, though that does feel very nice indeed.”

“So tell me, Victoria. Tell me exactly where no one has ever touched you before.”

“I, I…” She was not being deliberately evasive. Victoria struggled to find a word to apply to the most private place she could possibly imagine.

“Do I need to spank you again?”

“No, sir. I just do not know what to call it.”

“Ah, I see. I think perhaps you mean your arsehole. Do you mean that, Victoria?”

She believed she might just shrivel in embarrassment. She probably would have but for the waves of liquid lust pulsing through her. Whatever she needed to do, to say, she would. “Yes sir. That is what I mean. No one ever touched my arsehole. Except you, when you shaved me.”

“I should think not, a nice, well-brought-up young lady such as you.” He chuckled, the sound warm and sexy. Then he resumed the sensual assault of his lips and tongue on her upturned buttocks. Her nightdress was damp, clinging to her where he moistened it with his mouth. Victoria thought she might burst with desire.

She loved her sheer nightdress, but it had served its purpose. She wanted nothing more right now than to remove it and receive his tongue directly into her weeping pussy.

Would he? If she asked him?

“Sir?”

“Mmm, what is it, Victoria?”

“Would you lick me, please?”

“I am licking you.”

“On my quim, without my nightdress in the way. If you would, please, sir.”

“Well, since you’ve asked me so politely…” He relinquished his assault on her inflamed senses, just long enough to draw the moist fabric up to reveal her naked bottom. She knew it did little to improve his view.

Victoria sighed in utter contentment as he eased his thumbs between her pussy lips to spread them. She lifted her bottom up, silently begging
. Please, now. Oh, please…

“Oh, oh, sir…” She could not contain her moan as he inserted his tongue into her entrance and swirled it around, licking her juices from the swollen lips. It would not take long.

“Sir, I need to climax. I cannot help it.”

“Yes. Do it. You’re no use to me like this. Too aroused. Too volatile.”

If his words seemed strange to her, she was too far gone to take any notice. She tensed, waiting, poised, then sank onto the mattress with a deep, satisfied sigh as he drove his tongue right inside her. He fucked her with it, at the same time rolling her clit between his fingers. It was intense, more exquisite than she could find words to describe even with her rapidly expanding vocabulary, yet infinitely tender too. He was doing this to her solely for her pleasure, because she asked him to.

Victoria convulsed as waves of ecstasy rocked her, sending tremors from her core to her fingers and toes. She shivered, her body tight, rigid, then relaxing into a boneless heap as the orgasm subsided. She felt fulfilled, sated, and so very grateful.

“Thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure, girl. So, now that we have that out of the way, perhaps you can concentrate on the matter in hand.”

“Matter, sir? What matter is that…?”

“The matter of your tight little virgin arsehole. Would you get back in position, please, if you’ve quite done writhing all over the bed?”