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An Unconventional Affair: Forever Yours Series Page 9


  “You presume right!” she said tartly, sending him a fierce frown.

  “I would never ask you to be my mistress,” he said softly. “You are infinitely more precious than that.”

  She pushed up to her elbows on the blanket and then shifted so that she faced him. “Thank you for that,” she said softly, her eyes soft with emotions he could not name. “Let us promise we will be friends always and to be there for each other.”

  That he could not promise, and at his silence her eyes grew wide and uncertain. “Max?”

  “Let us talk about this another day.”

  Her chin lifted stubbornly. “What is wrong with now? We are still waiting on the wind to fly our kites. Tell me,” she urged.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Bloody hell. “I do not wish to lie to you, nor do I wish to hurt you.”

  She paled alarmingly. “You do not wish to associate with me once our affair has ended?”

  At his silence she stumbled to her feet and spun away from him, then she walked rapidly to the lake’s embankment.

  “Amalie!”

  She ignored his call and with a silent curse he jumped to his feet and hurried after her. Gripping her shoulder, Max urged her to face him. Placing a finger under her chin, he lifted her face so he could peer into her eyes. The pain he saw there crushed him. “It is not what you think,” he said.

  “You are not privy to my thoughts, my lord, to speculate on them!”

  “I do not want to cheat...to dishonor my vows or my marriage when I do commit. You are a weakness for me and will always be. Once you are in my life, I will do everything to spend my days with you and my nights deep inside your body. Even if you try to tell me no... I do not think I will be able to resist, and I will ruthlessly seduce you to my way of thinking. You would be my mistress!”

  She lifted her hand, placed them on his chest and pushed. “So, you can stand to see us forever parted?”

  “How can I in good conscience be friends with a woman who has me in knots? That disloyalty I could not permit myself to show my wife even if I do not love her.”

  Tears trembled on her lashes and her skin went even paler. “I understand.”

  “Do you?” he asked urgently, hating himself in this moment.

  “Yes. When I married the viscount...every day and night you were in my thoughts. It haunted me yet I could not let you go. I would seek you out at balls and invited you for tea and afternoon chats knowing my heart and emptions were hopelessly entangled with you. It was unfair to my marriage and to the viscount.”

  He stroked the soft hollow behind her earlobe with his thumb. “Or perhaps I should just marry you. What is really keeping us from taking such a leap?”

  She gasped. “That is not a matter to jest about! Your family would hate me for ruining your expectations and surely you would come to resent the loss of your reputation and goodwill in the ton once we are associated so intimately!”

  “Are you saying you would not marry me if I asked?”

  The tears spilled over and she gasped as if she hurt.

  Damn it! “Amalie, I... let’s not talk about this today.”

  She nodded frantically, and he drew her into his arms. They stood by the lake, hugging, until a gust of wind whipped the skirt of her dress around their legs. He wanted to say much more but was uncertain as to exactly what he wanted to say. Max had never felt this uncertain about anything in his life before. Why can’t I marry you? He silently asked. The memory of his mother’s frantic worry about their families’ reputation danced in his thoughts. Is that all, he snarled, his mind darting to find a solution that would make everyone happy.

  She pulled from his embrace and gave him a smile that seemed strained. “We agreed to an affair, Max, please let’s not muddy the waters with talks...with foolish talks. Now, the wind has picked up! Let’s fly our kites.”

  Amalie hurried away to the tree where they had rested their kites and picnic basket. He followed slowly, turning over her determination to not go deeper than the surface affair. Was it that she was afraid, or did she not love him? His steps faltered. Do I want your love, Amalie?

  As if she heard him, she turned around and their gaze collided. With a flush she glanced away and peered at the two kites skeptically. “Did we do a decent job? Do you think they will fly?”

  At his silence, she glanced up at him.

  Her lips parted. “You are staring.”

  “You are an astoundingly beautiful lady. I am inspired to stare.”

  She grinned and he smiled. He ambled over and stare at the kites they had taken an hour to build after luncheon. “They had better fly,” he muttered darkly.

  She giggled and lightly punched his arm. “You were the one who insisted we should not rouse a few of your staff to assist us.”

  “I blame you for not discouraging me from that folly.”

  “I think we did a wonderful job,” she said, lifting her kite, slowly releasing the strings to fly.

  He grabbed his kite, and they ran out onto the open lawn and gave their kites the freedom to soar. Max wasn’t certain how long they ran with their kites as the wind tugging them further away from the estate, but he didn’t want the day to end.

  He found he did not want to ruin the serenity with chatter, but he had to tell her. “Amalie?”

  She cast him a sidelong glance. “Yes?”

  “I too feel happy.”

  A bewitching smile curved her lovely mouth before she looked back to the sky flying against the backdrop of the lowering sun.

  “Max, please,” Amalie screamed, slapping a hand over her mouth, and gasping raggedly.

  “Please what?” he murmured, blowing his breath softly over the curls protecting her clitoris.

  Her entire body shivered. He’d given her the order to take a rose scented bath after dinner and lie naked on the bed and wait for him. She had blushed frightfully but when he had entered the chamber, she had done exactly as he had instructed. His body had reacted with a violent wave of need, and he dearly hoped that immersing himself in her scent and taste would garner him more control when he finally entered her quim. Just thinking about that welcoming, wet heaven had his cock pounding with greed.

  He’d dreamed of taking his lips on a journey over her bare shoulders, down until he could use his lips and tongue to do wicked things between her thighs for the long night. And that is exactly what he would do. Max had been slowly arousing her body for the last several minutes with kisses on her neck, breast, belly, her hips, the back of her knees. Who knew her body was so sensually sensitive and attuned to him? But even if it killed him he would bring her to completing a few times before taking her.

  “I am burning alive. I need you in me,” she cried, griping the sheets with her fingers.

  “Not yet,” he said, kissing the shadows of her inner thigh. “How soft you are. I swear you taste like peach.”

  “I do not think you’ve ever eaten peaches,” she said with a light giggle.

  Max pushed her legs even wider and he smiled to see her entire body turning pink, from her toes to her hairline at the lascivious sprawl he arranged her limbs. He had written about kissing a woman on her sex, and the pleasure she should feel. Max dearly hoped he had not been sprouting nonsense.

  He dipped and pressed a kiss to her mons.

  “Max?” Her cry was one of shock.

  “What are you doing?”

  Now she sounded like a mouse.

  He shifted so that he could see her features. The lush sight of her body once again arrested his gaze, and he couldn’t help staring at her exquisite shape. His Amalie was lush all over, her curves mouth wateringly sensual. Noting his stare, her lids fluttered, her lips parted wider as she panted.

  “You’re so damn beautiful, so lushly sensual. I want to kiss you everywhere. And when you’ve climaxed, to do it all over again.”

  She flushed prettily; a delicate pink blush spread across her cheeks then encompassed her entire body.
“Tell me what you are planning to do!”

  “It seems you have not reached chapter thirteen in my book,” he said with some amusement.

  “No,” she wailed. “I... I am at chapter ten! Surely this cannot be decent, oh Max—”

  He words transformed to a wild cry as he ran his tongue over her petals up to her nub. The taste of her was indescribable. The sweet, addictive taste of her had his thoughts scattering for several seconds. The arousal pulsing through him felt darker...needier as if her flavor was an aphrodisiac. Fuck! He reached down and gripped his twitching cock and squeeze, trying to control the desperate need to spend.

  He repeated the motion and her hips came up off the bed. He slipped his hands underneath her lush buttocks and brought her sex to his mouth. Max used her cries and shivers to guide him. He licked and nibbled along her folds, before taking her nub between his teeth.

  She screamed and he paused. He sucked that button and he gripped his hair and pulled...more to her. He groaned as her scent and sweet flavor pushed his lust higher.

  “Max!” her cry was at once guttural and breathless.

  Her thighs started to violently tremble and then she flew apart in his embrace, convulsion jerking her body as she powerfully released. He rose above her and with trebling fingers released the flap to his trousers and with impatience fully stripped.

  He had never been this hard in his life. Max came over her, blanketing her with his body and settling between her open thighs. He reached between them, put his cock to her so very wet entrance and thrust deep. Her muscles resisted his determined invasion and he stopped only halfway inside of her welcoming warmth.

  She moaned aloud with an erotic pleasure.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  Unexpectedly she lifted a hand and cupped his jaw. “It stings but...”

  “But?”

  “There is also this deep pulsing pleasure. But I like it very much.”

  He took a deep breath and flexed his hips, sliding his cock to the hilt. She gripped him tightly with her sex and started to shiver and with a sense of shock and pleasure he realized she had attained another release. Her low, gasping moans threatened to pull his release from him, but by God, not today. He needed to move at least bloody once!

  Sweat beaded his brows, as he braced on his elbows with one of his hands, while he used the other to grip her still writhing hips. Then he withdrew. He groaned. The feeling was.... fucking hell! He had no words. Her tightness did not want to let him go, and it felt almost painful to drag his cock from her clenching muscles.

  The sweat ran from his brows down the bridge of his nose to splat on her quivering breasts. Once his tip brushed against her once more, he thrust back in with excruciating slowness to the hilt.

  “Oh!” she gasped, her eyes widening. “There is more to it.”

  “There is more,” he said, pressing a kiss to her swollen mouth. “So much more and we will discover it all together.”

  “When you moved just now it felt as if lightning struck low down in my stomach,” she whispered.

  He repeated his motion.

  One.

  Then he did it again.

  Two.

  And again.

  Three.

  And again.

  Four.

  And with a deep groan again.

  Five.

  On that stroke he paused, gritting his teeth as his balls burned with the need to release. His damn body shook with the need ravaging him. She released the sweetest giggle and he opened his eyes to see her flushed face smiling up at him. Her eyes had glazed a little and that spurred him on. Then his wicked minx did something that squeezed her muscles around him. Max shouted and it was as if his body ripped control from his mind, and he discovered it was not that he had been fighting to release but to ravish and devour. The turbulence of his passion swirled around them, but she lifted her legs and arranged them around his hips and clasped his shoulders holding her to him as he snapped his hips, driving deep into the heart of her, repeatedly.

  When she attained her climax, she bit into his shoulder, muffled cries and whimpers spilling from her. Even as she clenched on him a rush of wetness bathed his cock, allowing him to increase his speed and chase the devastating pleasure rushing up his spine. With a deep groan he emptied his seed deep inside her body. They stayed like that for several moment breathing raggedly. He savored the deep feeling of satisfaction echoing through his body.

  “Max?” she whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “That was beyond wonderful.”

  Pride burst inside his chest. “We are only just beginning,” he said with a touch of roguish arrogance.

  Chapter 10

  Several days later, Amalie and Max raced across the lanes of the estate. They went around a corner with such speed for a moment she thought she would have sailed off the side-saddle. Exhilaration chased through her body, and she laughed before they brought the horses to a slow trot.

  “That was wonderful,” she said, sending him a grin.

  He nodded his agreement, then dismounted from his horse. Dropping the reins for the animal to roam, he came over to her, lifted her by the waist and assisted her down. Glancing behind her, the main house was just a beautiful speck in the distance.

  Max’s country home was an impressive stone facade which climbed four stories and boasted one of the most impressive forecourts she’d ever seen. They had spent some time earlier touring the grounds and the gardens after he’d realized his anxiety surrounding their coupling had made him remiss in providing a tour. It was very grand and tastefully furnished. The lower floors held a large and elegantly appointed drawing-room, three smaller parlors stylishly decorated, a breath-taking library, a palatial music room, a study, and an impressive ballroom that opened out to a well-designed garden.

  It felt good to be outdoors, after the unexpected rains of the last few days. The weather had been dreary and had kept them indoors. The interlude had been delightful, and they had spent the days playing chess, whist, reading together in his wonderful library. And of course, making love. She blushed just recalling Max’s insatiable appetites. Each night and day he took her several ways, each moment sweeter and somehow hotter than the last. He wrung such cries of pleasure from her throat and revealed the wanton in her she flushed when she recalled her exuberance.

  This morning, she had woken early, went into the library to read the rest of his book. Then she had returned to the room and took the lead by kissing him all over. There had been a chapter about allowing wives to be free with their desires, to allow them to be in control in every way. She had followed each example he had set out, even taking his throbbing length into her mouth. The memory of his groans, and how he had shouted and fisted the sheets had her grinning.

  “Pray confess what lurid thoughts have you smiling and blushing at the same time.”

  Amalie tossed her head. “I am basking in the memory of how I made you unravel this morning. You begged me to end your torture at one moment if you would recall.”

  He trailed the back of his fingers lightly over her throat, deviltry glinting in his eyes. “Ah yes, the sweet bliss of your tongue on my coc—”

  She slapped his arm. “Max!”

  He cast her an unrepentant grin. “I wondered if you could blush any brighter.”

  He laced their hands together and tugged her into a stroll. She did not want their days to end, and only if she could stay with him here forever. It was astonishing the sense of fulfillment she felt being with him. Amalie wondered just what she wanted from him.

  Everything, her heart breathed. Dear God, I want everything.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, with a frown. “You looked so frightened just now.”

  A terrible anxiety tightened her throat. “Nothing of import.”

  “Amalie—” he began.

  “When are we to return to town?” she hurriedly asked.

  His steps faltered, and he urged her to face him. He tugged his gloves from
his hands and placed them inside his jacket, and then his large hands cupped her face gently. Her skin prickled pleasurably. “I was thinking we should stay here for the rest of the year.”

  She laughed, then sobered to see he was most assuredly serious. “We are in June!”

  “Yes, and the season will end in a few weeks and we would retire to the countryside to rest our weary feet from all those frivolous excitements. I have nothing in town. Everything I need is right here with me.”

  She reached up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. “Come with me by the seaside.”

  Surprise flared in his eyes. “To Brighton?”

  Her heart took a perilous leap and then started to hammer. “I have a most delightful cottage there you know, and Max, it is glorious. The ocean is just there. I can hear the roar of it each day, and there are times I stroll along the shoreline without shoes or stockings! Just sinking my feet into the pebbled sands. I... I would like for you to join me there for a few days. We would have to be even more discreet. I do have some nosy but wonderful neighbors.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” he murmured. “Just let me know when and it shall be done.”

  A hot ache grew in her throat. “I would like to paint you.”

  “Paint me!”

  “Yes, in the nude perhaps.”

  He made a choking sound, and she laughed.

  She waited until her quickened pulse had quieted then said, “Look behind you.”

  With an arched brow, he turned, his gaze scanning the wide-open area. His gaze landed on a spot under a large willow tree. A few blankets had been spread, two chairs with easel and paintbrushes. There were also two picnic baskets and a book on a corner of the blankets.

  Every time their gaze met; her heart turned over in response. It felt as if she were falling in love with him all over again, except, with a painful jolt, she admitted she had never stopped loving him. “The servants helped me arranged it,” she murmured.

  “Good God am I to get naked in this frightful weather,” he whispered with mock horror. “Well there is no help for it.” Then he shrugged from his riding jacket.