They rolled through London, Colleen staring out the half-lowered window. When she finally spoke, Max started.
“I don’t hate you.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
Max swallowed. He wanted to believe her. Needed her forgiveness. “How could you not? I took so much from you.”
She twisted, tucking one knee up on the bench to face him. Grabbing his hands, she held them close to her chest. “We all deserve forgiveness for our sins. Don’t we? There can’t be some mistakes that are irredeemable?” She dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “Can there?”
Max cocked his head. Was she letting him off the hook or asking for forgiveness herself? But then, there was nothing Colleen could have done that would warrant absolution. The greatest sin in her mind was having an affair as an unmarried woman. He didn’t want to dismiss her worries but needed to convince her that what they’d done had hurt no one. There was nothing to seek forgiveness for.
“I hope,” he said slowly, “that if the harm we caused wasn’t intentional, that if we try to do the right thing, that we can atone for anything. And if we haven’t hurt anyone by our actions, then I don’t think there is anything to ask pardon for.”
For men like him, much needed to be forgiven. The line between doing what was right and doing the right thing was blurred and bent. Did the good he and his friends secured override the less desirable methods they employed to achieve it? But on one score he was certain. “For someone like you, someone who leads a decent, solid life, mercy is always available. There is nothing you could do that would be very bad.”
She gave him a small smile. “Let’s hope you’re right.” Resting her shoulder against the bench, she sighed. She lowered their joined hands to her lap, and his fingers twitched.
So close to her heat. It was a crazy reaction. But the fear that had pounded through him had to go somewhere. And it turned into lust. He brushed his thumb along her skirt, along a small bump in the fabric that covered the crease where her hip met her thigh. A caress so small she couldn’t have felt it.
She shifted her legs. Her head, already so close to his resting on the bench back, dropped to his shoulder. “I don’t want to keep you from my bed, any more than you want to leave it.” The words were honey-coated whiskey. So sweet, and they started a low burn deep within Max.
More boldly, he palmed her thigh and slid his hand up and down her leg. The landau took that moment to grind to a stop. The footman from The Black Rose opened the door, his forehead clearing when he saw Max and Colleen inside.
“Welcome back, my Lord.” The boy reached up to hand Colleen down, but Max brushed him aside.
Bustling her into the club, he guided her directly to the stairs up to her private rooms. Lucy shouted a question across the room, and he slammed the door at the base of the stairwell in answer. All questions could wait. Colleen had forgiven him. He’d gone to bed the night before believing he’d never taste this woman again, and he’d been given a second chance.
A man didn’t waste a second chance.
Colleen pushed his hands off her bum. “I’m moving as fast as I can.”
“Not fast enough.” He turned her around on the step above him and slung her over his shoulder, enjoying her shriek. Taking the remaining stairs two at a time, he made for her bedroom.
The bottle of brandy and the candles still sat on her bureau. He couldn’t wait to tease her body. But first, he needed release. The fire could wait until he was in a clearer state of mind. Impatience and flame were never a good combination.
He tossed her on the bed and grabbed her ankles, dragging her hips to the edge. Her shrieks turned to laughter. Her skirt rode up to her hips, exposing creamy thighs and knee-high stockings. Shucking her boots, he stroked his hand down her calf, danced over the back of her knee, and drew down her stocking. The other bit of silk received the same treatment. When his hands traveled up her bare legs, they didn’t stop at her knee.
She jerked when his fingers grazed her sex then let her thighs fall wide. Finding her clit, he rubbed circles around it, loving the way her face flushed and her mouth fell open.
She popped open the buttons of her spencer and flapped the loose ends against her body. “That feels so good.”
Pressing his index finger into her channel, he glided along her slick walls. “I can see that. But trust me, it’s going to feel better.” He knelt and lowered his mouth. Colleen rested her feet on his shoulders, curling her toes into his coat at the first lash of his tongue.
Spreading her lips, Max licked the slick skin inside, lapped at the juices spilling from her opening. With his teeth, he nibbled on her outer lips, tugging at them before returning to her core. He plunged his tongue inside, wishing it were longer, wanting all of her.
“Oh God.” Her calves clenched against his ears and released. “Your beard is scratching me.”
He lifted his head, brows drawn. “Do you want me to stop?” This damn beard was becoming more cumbersome by the minute.
“No!” Threading her fingers into his hair, she drew him back down. “No, don’t stop.”
“Hmm.” She shivered, and Max vibrated his lips against her sensitive flesh again. Plunging two fingers inside her, he found her clit with his lips and pulled.
Her hips jumped from the bed, her feet digging into his shoulders. Pulling her closer to his mouth, he pinned her in his embrace. Her quim fluttered around his fingers, and his cock throbbed in response, wanting in.
But his fear from that day wasn’t forgotten. When Colleen started thrusting her pelvis, when her moans reached a fevered pitch, he pulled his head away.
She flopped to the mattress. “Don’t stop!”
“For ten minutes today, I was near out of my mind with panic,” he said. “Ten minutes where I imagined the worst. Ten minutes that I couldn’t get to St. Katherine’s fast enough. I think you owe me for those ten minutes.”
