Tempting a Sinner (18 page)

“Do you want to taste him too?”

She gave only the smallest hint of acquiescence, but he saw it, and nodded for Adam to move closer to her head. Adam gripped his shaft around the base, drawing it away from his tight stomach and within distance of Malinda’s tongue. Benedict shuddered as she reached out and licked his friend in a lazy, salacious circle around his straining crown. He ripped open his own trousers and crawled toward her, waiting until she turned to him and offered him the same sensual flick of her tongue.

“Where, Malinda?” he murmured. “Both in your mouth? Or do you want me to decide?”

She licked her own lips and he almost came. “I’m tied up and at your mercy. Surely I’ll just have to . . .
endure?
”

He smiled at her. “Then perhaps you’d like to endure for a bit longer. Adam, come here.”

He waited until his partner moved in front of him and then set about undressing him. He took his time, stroking Adam’s skin as it was slowly revealed, running his hands over the other man’s thighs and muscled chest, pinching his nipples until he moaned and his hips bucked against Benedict’s hard cock.

Malinda watched, too, her avid gaze on Adam’s slight frame as Benedict played with his cock and balls, sliding his wet finger up and down Adam’s shaft until it was shining with pre-cum, and then down to the soft skin of his taint and the tight pucker of his arse.

“I almost wish I’d brought the jade with me, Malinda. While Adam and I have you, we could’ve been stuffed full of those cold, rigid lengths. If your hands were free, you could’ve held them deep inside us as we fucked you.”

Her nipples drew tight, and as he bent to take one in his mouth, Adam followed suit. She was trembling now, her cunt open and wet for him, her body ready to accept exactly what he wanted to give her. He finally took off his own clothes, fully freeing his aching shaft from his trousers, and gave himself two hard yanks, which was enough to soak his hand with pre-cum.

Adam turned to him, a question in his gray eyes. “You are sure about this? You won’t be demanding satisfaction at dawn?”

“Malinda wants you, and as I’ve already had you, it seems only fair.”

“Then I’ll do whatever she wants.”

“Thank you. I’ll need to untie her.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t think she’ll run, but you never know.”

He found the bottle of oil and slicked it over his cock, then nodded to Adam to untie Malinda’s left ankle as he did the same to her right. To his relief she didn’t even move, her gaze still fixed on her two naked lovers. He turned and quickly undid her hands before sliding behind her and settling her down on his lap facing outward toward Adam.

“Suck her breasts.”

Adam obliged as Benedict, heart hammering, slid two oiled fingers into his wife’s arse, and then, when he was certain she would accept him, started to lower her down onto his waiting cock. He took his time, playing with her clit, his fingers tangling with Adam’s mouth as she climaxed and he was able to slide deeper with every spasm of her pleasure.

“God . . .”
He breathed hard through his nose as the sensation of her tight passage clasping his oversensitive cock shuddered through him. He settled her back against his chest, her hips in his big hands, her knees spread wide over his. Adam’s gaze lowered, and he reached out and circled where Benedict was joined to Malinda before dropping down on hands and knees and delicately licking his way up to her empty cunt, circling and sucking at her swollen lips before tonguing her clit.

“Please . . .” Malinda’s voice was high and tight with need.

Benedict bit her shoulder. “What do you want, love?” Would she ask for Adam’s cock, or would she expect Benedict to ask for her? At this point, if she didn’t voice an opinion, he was going to. Even if it never happened again, he wanted her to experience this pleasure alongside him.

She shifted restlessly against him, making him rock his hips.

“I want Adam.”

He smiled down at her head.

“Then have him.”

Adam fitted himself between Benedict and Malinda’s entwined legs and slid his cock deep, making them both cry out. He set a strong and regular pace, which Benedict picked up on, alternating his thrusts to his partner’s to give his wife the most pleasure she had ever had in her life. Adam gripped hard on Benedict’s shoulder, anchoring himself against Malinda’s uncontrollable movements. She was lost in them now, her body pressed between them, her responses tuned to theirs, her pleasure theirs to amplify and make last forever.

But it couldn’t last and as she kept climaxing, Benedict held on to his desire not to come less and less. His mind was caught between the urgent spasms of her sex and the driving thrust of Adam’s cock through the thin wall that separated them. He winced as Adam’s fingers dug into his wounded shoulder.

“I need to come, Benedict,” Adam gasped. “I—”

He pulled out and rolled to one side, one hand wrapped around his pumping cock as he spilled his seed against the sheets. Malinda cried out, too, and Benedict came, jamming his fingers in her cunt as she climaxed around him in endless, shuddering waves.

After a quick nod in Benedict’s direction, Adam climbed off the bed, picked up his clothes, and left the room. It was unlike him to be less than polite, but even through his own desires, Benedict had noticed his look of utter desolation, as he’d come helplessly into his own hand. He’d worry about Adam later; he had his hands full with his wife, who was slumped against him, her whole body vibrating.

He eased her off his lap and she collapsed onto the sheets with a faint moan. While she was quiet, he took the opportunity to get off the bed and go and thoroughly wash himself. He was bone-weary and shaking like a young child. He looked back at the bed, where Malinda hadn’t stirred, and walked quietly over to her. She looked up at him and opened her mouth.

He gently covered it with his hand. “No. I can’t.” She kissed his palm and then tickled it with the tip of her tongue. “I just want to sleep beside you, and not wake up with a hatchet in my head, or to the sound of you scolding me about something. Is that possible?”

She nodded, and he wrapped the sheet around her and picked her up. For a second, his legs buckled and she caught at his shoulder, her long hair tickling his skin. He pushed open the door to the servants’ stairs and took her up those to his suite of rooms. She rolled into bed; he pulled the covers over them and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

O
f course Adam was the first person Malinda encountered in the breakfast room at the Sinners. He stood as she came into the room and hurried around to pull a chair out for her.

“Thank you.” She tried not to look into his face as she gingerly sat down.

He returned to his seat opposite her and grimaced sympathetically. “Are you sore?”

“I’m quite well, thank you.” She poured herself some tea. “I need to speak to Benedict. Is he in his office?”

“I believe so.” She felt his gaze on her. “Malinda, are you
blushing?
”

“Not at all. I merely want to see my husband. There’s something I wanted his advice about.”

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted that you are actively seeking him out.” He hesitated. “It doesn’t have anything to do with what happened last night, does it?”

She looked up then into his smiling eyes. “Why, are you worried he’ll be angry with you?”

He brushed imaginary crumbs off his coat. “I hope not. But I did leave rather abruptly.”

She smiled at him. “Did you? I can’t say I noticed. I was too overwhelmed with all the pleasure you both gave me.”

He winked at her. “Flatterer.”

She shook her head and laughed. “I’ve realized it’s pointless being embarrassed with you.”

“There’s really no need. I was glad to help out.” He sighed. “To be honest, I was grateful for the distraction.”

She studied his expression, but he seemed disinclined to elaborate. Even as she opened her mouth to explore her curiosity, he stiffened and looked toward the open door of the morning room.

“May I help you?”

A tall red-haired man came into the room and bowed. Something about the line of his jaw reminded Malinda of the naked man they’d seen the previous evening. Had Adam mistaken the object of his desire for this man? On closer examination, he was older and looked far less malleable than the other redhead.

“Mr. Fisher? I’m Alistair Maclean. You are acquainted with my brother, Harry. I believe I owe you my thanks for the recommendation for this post.”

“Ah, yes.” Adam stood and went around to shake the other man’s hand. “Mr. Maclean. May I introduce you to Lady Benedict Keyes?”

Mr. Maclean turned his clear green gaze onto Malinda and bowed again. “My lady, it is a pleasure to meet you. I hope I can be of assistance to you as well as to his lordship.”

Malinda looked inquiringly at Adam over the top of Mr. Maclean’s auburn head.

“He’s your husband’s new secretary.”

“Oh, I see.” Malinda smiled. He
was
related to Harry, the other Maclean Benedict had mentioned and Adam knew. “What an excellent idea. Is my husband at his desk at this moment?”

“He is, my lady. Do you wish to speak to him? He told me to help myself to some breakfast before we started on the next batch of correspondence.” He looked back at the door. “But I am more than happy to accompany you back to his office.”

She waved him into a seat. “I’m quite capable of finding him myself, Mr. Maclean. Please enjoy your breakfast. I’m sure Mr. Fisher will be delighted to keep you company.”

She needed to speak to Benedict before he said or did something that distracted her into arguing with him again. Last night, when he’d let her enjoy the delights of the second floor, had been quite extraordinary. She wasn’t certain if she would wish to
continue
such extravagances, but it was nice to know they existed, and that Benedict wouldn’t deny her that knowledge.

She knocked on his door and went in. He was sitting at his desk, which appeared a lot less cluttered than it had been the week before. The wary look in his eye when he realized who it was made her hold up her hand.

“It’s all right. I haven’t come to annoy you.”

He put down his pen. “That
would
make a pleasant change.”

She sat on the chair in front of his desk and gripped her hands together.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just trying to find the right words.”

“Are you sure you aren’t annoyed about something? Last night, perhaps? When I forced another man on you?”

“You know quite well that you didn’t force anything on me that I wasn’t eager to sample.”

“Are you sure?” He ran a hand through his blond hair. “I’ve been told I have a tendency to be a mite overbearing sometimes, especially when I lose my temper.”

“Who would say that?”

“I believe it was you.”

She slowly raised her head and met his innocent blue gaze. “I enjoyed every minute, and you damn well know it.”

His smile was beautiful. “Well, good. Now, how can I help you?”

She drank in the smile, knowing that she’d probably not see another one for a while after she’d told him everything.

“It’s about your father.”

“Ah, about that—”

She kept speaking. “You wondered why I insisted on seeing him alone, and why I even agreed to come to London with you. Well, I
thought
there was a good reason, but now I’m not so sure.”

His brow crinkled. “I’m not sure I understand you.”

“I thought your father was behind my father’s death.”

“So I gathered.” He glanced down at the letter he was writing, and set it carefully to one side. “You’ve changed your mind?”

She stared hopelessly at him. “I’d better start at the beginning, hadn’t I?”

“That would be helpful.”

She leapt to her feet and started to pace the carpet. “You probably don’t remember this, but that last summer when we were both traveling with the regiment—”

“—and we fell in love.”

“Yes, I suppose we did, but we also argued a lot.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “We still do.”

“There was one particular argument we kept having about the restrictions placed on females, and your assertion that because you were a man, you were stronger, wiser, and far more heroic than I could ever be.”

“I
was
a year older,” he murmured.

“I was determined to prove I was just as capable as you were, so I decided to do something that in retrospect was stupid and reckless.”

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing, love.”

She swallowed hard and then blurted it out. “I pretended to be ill so that you wouldn’t miss me, then I dressed up as a boy and accompanied my father and his troop to fetch the supplies from the main port on the other side of the mountain range.”

He went still. “Go on.”

“By the time my father realized I was following them, we were too far from the camp to send me back, so he was forced to bring me along.” She shook her head. “It was quite an adventure until we were on the return journey, with the mules laden with supplies and—” She forced herself to go on. “You know what happened. We were attacked.”

He shifted slightly in his seat. “You were there?”

“I—” She turned away from him as tears threatened. “I saw very little. As soon as my father realized what was happening, he set me on his horse and ordered me to go and get help. I tried to argue with him, but he walloped the horse hard enough to send it careening down the mountainside. It was all I could do to stay on.” She bit her lip. “When the horse eventually slowed down, I was hopelessly lost, and it was eerily quiet. I knew that couldn’t be good, but I dismounted and led the horse back up the trail until I found the way blocked with dead horses and mules, and . . . my father and his companions were all dead too.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. He was sitting motionless at his desk, his expression curiously blank.

“I had to turn away and be sick.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ll never forget the smell of death.”

“Neither will I.” Their gazes met and held for a long moment. “What happened then?”

“I was about to go to my father, when I heard voices, so I hid in the rocks.”

“That was very wise of you.”

“At first I thought it was a rescue party, but then I realized the men were masked and that they were systematically stripping everything of value from the dead. I knew that if they heard me, they’d kill me, too, so I ran away.”

There was a silence and she braced herself for his anger.

“May I ask you something?” His voice was incredibly gentle.

She instinctively straightened her spine like a soldier about to be flogged. “Why I was such a little coward?”

“No, why did you initially think the men were a rescue party, and not the same men who had carried out the ambush?”

She met his gaze. “Because they spoke English to each other.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “So you managed to get back to camp.”

“Yes, only to find that I hadn’t been missed at all because you’d already raised the alarm and set off with a search party to find the missing men. I crawled into bed and pretended that nothing had happened, that I’d dreamed it all, that my father—” She pressed her fist to her mouth.

“I wish you’d told me.”

“How could I? I knew you’d be furious at me for doing something so ridiculous, and I couldn’t bear for you to be right—that you would’ve been stronger and braver than me, that maybe you would’ve saved my father rather than run away like a child.”

He sighed. “I wouldn’t have done any better than you did, love. I probably would have stayed and been killed alongside those other brave men.”

“You don’t know that.”

He rose from his chair and came around to stand next to her. “I do. I was just as reckless as you were in my own way.”

“I did intend to tell you what had happened, but you didn’t come to see me, and your father threatened to put us out of our tent, and then when you did appear, you’d decided to marry me and—”

“And everything changed, and you were thrust into another crisis of my making.” He took her hand. “I do understand.”

She wrenched her hand free and stepped away from him. “Don’t be kind. I can’t bear it.”

“What do you want me to do, shout at you? Tell you that you failed your father in some way? Because I don’t believe that. I don’t believe he would’ve wanted you to die for a second.”

“But I should’ve spoken up about what I’d seen.”

“My father wouldn’t have listened. He had no time for women in general, and in his eyes you were busy trying to ruin his son. He would
never
have believed you.” He took her hand again, and this time she let him lead her over to the chairs by the fire. She sat down and he busied himself at the decanters, bringing a glass of brandy over to her.

“Drink this.”

She obeyed and shuddered as the fiery spirit trickled down her throat. She handed him back the glass and he sat opposite her and finished the contents in one swallow.

“There’s more,” she said.

He nodded and put the glass down, his attention fixed on her face.

“When my mother was dying, she liked to talk about the past. I think she found it easier than contemplating the present. She talked about the days before she married George Makethorpe and how happy she’d been with my father. But as time passed, I sensed she was struggling whether to tell me something important about my father’s death. One night, quite near the end of her life, I woke from a nap and found her clutching my hand and struggling to sit up. I soothed her as best I could. She whispered to me that she would never be able to rest in peace if she didn’t confess.”

Lost in the past, Malinda wrapped her arms around herself. “She told me that the night before my father was due to go and pick up the supplies, he went out drinking with some of his old friends in the regiment. She was woken up when he was escorted back to the tent by your father.”

“
My
father?”

“From what she overheard, the marquis was furious with my father for getting drunk, and mayhap giving away their secret.”

“And what secret was that?”

“She didn’t know, only that the marquis said that if my father completed his part of the plan successfully, he would be well rewarded, and if he failed, he would suffer the consequences.”

“Did she question him further when they were alone?”

“She tried, but he was still drunk and angry with her for eavesdropping. He told her that if she ever mentioned what she’d overheard, he would beat her. He said that they would be rich.” Malinda twisted her hands together on her lap. “She was too afraid to argue with him. He’d never hit her before, not even once.”

“And when he didn’t return, what did she think?”

She raised her gaze to his. “That your father had reneged on the deal and somehow arranged for there to be no survivors. She begged me to find your father and take my revenge.”

“That was a terrible burden to place on you and quite unwarranted.”

“It was what she’d come to believe.” She shrugged. “How could I argue with a dying woman? I promised to do my best.”

Silence fell until she had to look away from Benedict’s cool blue gaze.

“Is this another reason why you were angry with me? Did you think I had a hand in it?”

“Originally, yes, but I soon came to realize it was unlikely.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a shame you didn’t realize it until
after
you’d shot me and chained me up.”

“All
right,
I know I should have talked to you first, but I was determined to get the upper hand.”

“And shooting me gave you that advantage?”

She frowned at him. “Benedict, by all accounts, you are an extremely difficult man to pin down. I knew that if I stood any chance of convincing you of anything, I’d need to guarantee your full attention.”

He shook his head as if trying to force his mind back to the problem at hand and took a deep breath.

“I assume that when you remembered that the men searching the bodies had been English, you immediately thought your mother could be right.”

“Yes.” For once she was grateful for his insistence on remaining unemotional.

He sat back in his chair and regarded her. “Did your father tell you what the mules were carrying as well as the usual supplies?”

“No.”

“They carried gold to pay the soldiers.”

She slowly brought her hand to her mouth.

“Is it possible that what your mother overheard was my father and yours discussing the fact that he would be bringing the payroll? Could that have been the ‘secret’ between them?”