Prowling towards her, Max grasped the tail of her braid. “And how were you brought up? To show the gentry little respect, act as though social classes have no distinctions, but then hide behind your working-class morality when it suits you? Is that what your mother taught you?”
“I have plenty of respect for my betters.”
She damn well didn’t and that was one of the things he liked about her. “So, it’s just me that you feel free to debate, to question? Every other gentleman you’d bow and scrape before?”
She opened her mouth, but Max cut her off. “You curtsy to no one.” Not sincerely leastways. He dropped to one knee. “And you’re magnificent for it.”
“Max, what are you doing?” She tugged at his shoulder.
Leaning forwards, he buried his face in her heat. Her regret spurred his anger, and he wanted to prove her wrong. Demonstrate that she was as weak when it came to matters of the flesh as he. She couldn’t just put him on the shelf when it suited her.
He pressed an open mouth kiss to her lower lips, tonguing the cotton, making it wet.
Colleen shifted. Her fingers gripped his shoulder so tightly she’d be leaving marks of her own. “We’re supposed to be fighting.”
Drawing back, he ran his finger over the seam between her legs. The wet cotton clung to her, molding around her cleft. “You feeling shame for what we did isn’t a fight we’re going to have.”
“You can’t control how I feel. Or what I’ll argue about.” Burrowing her fingers in his beard, she tugged his face up.
Max begged to disagree, and he played dirty. Ignoring the sting on his cheek, he lifted her shift, exposing her dewy curls. He ran his tongue between her folds, her musky sweetness exploding in his mouth.
“Max!”
“Is this something you want to give up?” He nibbled his way down one lip before swirling around her entrance. He lapped at her essence, not able to get enough of her flavor. “Will you let your notions of propriety take this away from you?”
“No,” she breathed.
He fucking thought not. “I can make you feel so good, Colleen. Better than any man ever has.” He sucked her clit into his mouth, swallowing thickly against the pain in the back of his throat. The only other man who would have tried would have been her husband. Max had taken Joseph Bonner’s life, and now he’d taken his wife, as well.
There would be a special place in hell waiting for Max. But until that time, he planned on redressing that wrong as best he could. To take care of all of Colleen’s needs. And kneeling before her in penitence seemed like a worthy start.
Wrapping one arm around her waist, he dragged her right leg up and over his shoulder.
She tugged again on his beard, this time holding him close. “Lord of mercy.” Her leg shook, and she wobbled in his arms.
Firming his grip, Max rose to his feet, Colleen half-sitting on his shoulders, and kept her pressed close to his mouth. She shrieked, her arms going around his head. Max couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he tossed her onto the bed.
He crawled over her, and spread her legs wide, keeping his palms pressed to her inner thighs. “Now, where were we?”
Colleen flopped back on the bed and moaned. Any façade of respectability had crumbled away.
He buried his head between her thighs and let himself enjoy her decadence. Tomorrow he’d delve back into London’s underworld, confront the worst of humanity. And remember the worst that existed within himself.
But tonight, he’d lose himself in bliss, fall into oblivion.
And drag Colleen over the edge right along with him.
Chapter Nine
Colleen pulled on a pair of cotton gloves, ignoring the hole at the tip of the index finger. A torn and tattered pair of gloves was a suitable accompaniment to how she felt. Worn out. Both physically and mentally.
The physical fatigue wasn’t a problem. In fact, the soreness and lethargy had come as a pleasant surprise when she’d awoken that day.
And it had distracted her from her guilt.
Ever since her husband’s death, she’d carried around a ten-pound sack of it. After last night, her load had doubled. It weighed heavily, dragging her steps, curving her shoulders. How could she let herself feel such pleasure when her husband wasn’t alive to feel anything?
“Going somewhere?” Max pushed into her room, looking her up and down and frowning.
