Max lowered his arms to her hips, joining her now in the dance, lifting into her and urging her into a rhythm that pleased them both. He gripped her, his gaze drifting from her hips to her mound, his chest rising and falling faster as his breathing increased.
She found herself panting, her breasts bouncing, and her desire rising faster with each deep penetration. She gasped and closed her eyes, relying on her balance and Max’s hands to hold her steady.
“Yes, Kitty. Yes. Come for me. Make me come…”
His commands were but faint words in her ears as the level of her arousal began to fill her with exquisite tingles of what felt like lightning skittering up and down her spine. “Oh,” she groaned, sinking into herself, drowning in the oncoming deluge. “Ohhh…”
She threw her arms up in the air and arched her spine as she and Max thrust at each other. He moved a hand and found her tiny pearl of ecstasy, caressing it gently as they rose and fell.
It was more than enough. “Max…”
“Yes. You may come.”
She would have done so, whether he’d allowed it or not. Her first experience with riding a man like this had sent her out of control, helpless before the demands of her body. So she succumbed, crying out as the release hit her with all the power of a thunderous gale force wind. She shook, her voice gone, silent screams coming from her wide open mouth.
Her thighs clamped around Max and her spine bowed as she seized his cock with an inner fist, shuddering, rippling, and forcing Max to join her in the abyss they had created just for themselves.
He shattered, a groan of savage desire wrenched from his throat. She felt his cock pumping hard within her, and it was enough to send her tumbling over the edge once more.
She fell into madness, into ecstasy; disappearing beneath the waves of erotic joy that they had created on their own private ocean. For long moments she couldn’t even breathe, all was darkness shot through with colors she couldn’t name.
At last Kitty found her lungs and heaved in a giant breath, then sagged, unable to keep her spine straight. Max was still inside her and she was loath to move, to lose that part of him from inside her.
But his hands moved, urging her up and away from him. “Lie down, now, Kitty. Rest. You have done well.”
It was all the encouragement she needed, and she willingly dismounted, to collapse beside him. Remembering her instructions, she whispered “Thank you, Master.”
“I am very proud of you,” he answered, gathering her close. “And somewhat afraid of you, as well.”
That was a puzzle and she frowned as she turned it over in her mind. Nature prevailed, however, and she fell asleep before she could ask him what he meant.
She woke early with no remembrance of that puzzle, but a rather cool sensation beneath her buttocks. Blushing, she realized the damp linens were a result of their activities last night. Although wonderful beyond belief, the residue did make for a less than comfortable waking experience.
As she had done before, Kitty slipped from Max’s bed and left him snoring quietly. She had always been an early riser, although it was not something she mentioned too often, since elegant members of Society were supposed to sleep until noon. She’d done so a few times, at Aunt Venetia’s, but eventually had given up and gone back to her old ways.
She enjoyed the early morning; the quiet, the light as it crept in to brighten the rooms, the sounds of the birds busily engaging in their daily activities. The servants had kept her secret from their mistress, knowing Lady Allington would have been shocked to her slippers if she knew her niece was being so…déclassé as to rise before noon.
Even now, though, it was almost nine o’clock. Kitty stared at her clock as she returned to her room, realizing the day was dark and grey, a contributing factor to her somewhat-later-than-usual rising.
Summoning a maid, Kitty dressed and let the girl do her hair, which result pleased them both. So after giving Miss Ridlington her shawl and making sure her buttons were all aligned, the maid left her.
A gurgle from her stomach reminded her that they’d enjoyed an early dinner, and she had certainly worked up an appetite with her energetic activities last night. So she took herself off to find breakfast, trusting that Deery and the efficient Mowbray House kitchens would have something ready.
They did not disappoint; Kitty could smell delightful and mouthwatering aromas as she crossed the hall to the parlor. A good cup of tea to start with, definitely.
Keeping that in mind, she opened the door, and found—to her astonishment—that she wasn’t the first to have that idea. Seated at the table, with a cup and saucer in front of her, was a woman, who looked up as Kitty entered.
“Hullo,” she said. “You must be Kitty Ridlington.”
“Uh yes. Yes, I am,” answered Kitty, confused and curious as to why this woman wore a veil down one side of her face. “I don’t believe we’ve met…”
“No, we haven’t.” The woman’s shoulders rose and fell with her breath. “I’m Grace. Grace Chaney. Max’s sister.”
Chapter Seventeen
The polite clink of teacups echoed through the parlor as Deery served both ladies.
Grace nodded at him, and Kitty murmured her thanks.
It was, she realized, awkward as awkward could be. She sipped, sighed and put down her cup. “This is most awkward, Ma’am.”
“Call me Grace, if you would?” She put down her cup as well. “Yes, I suppose it is. I cannot imagine too many ladies are sitting down to breakfast with their brother’s mistress this morning.”
Kitty’s chin came up. “I’m sure that is true.” She looked straight at what she could see of Grace’s face. “Should I retire? I will if my presence is making you uncomfortable.”
“No.” Grace made a brief negative motion with her head. “No, don’t leave. Max brought you here, to Mowbray House. That is out of character for him, so I decided it would behoove me to make your acquaintance.”
“To find out what kind of woman would become a mistress on a wager?”
“Something like that.”
The part of Grace’s face that Kitty could see curved into a slight smile.
Kitty nodded. “I would do the same, I suppose for either of my brothers. Should they act unlike themselves, of course. Although since there really isn’t much one could label as normal in the Ridlington family, I doubt I shall be called upon to do so. Not in the near future, anyway.”
“I’ve heard of the Ridlingtons,” Grace said hesitantly. “Not all good things, I’m afraid.”
“That would be our father,” sighed Kitty. “To set the record straight, he married three times. Edmund, Simon and Letitia are from his first wife. My twin Richard and I were born of his second, and our sister Hecate is the only child of his third wife. All our mothers are gone, and all of us children were glad to see the back of our father when he passed.” She shrugged. “A terrible thing to say, but he was a terrible man. Which is why we’re all…out of the ordinary style, I suppose.”