Olivia shut the door behind them and immediately led Maxwell into the adjoining bathroom to tend to his wounds. Although she recalled her decades of training and remained composed on the outside, her heart was racing. Maxwell was here and he wanted her. He loved her, little Livvy Nevrakis, poor little orphan who no one had ever cared about. All those years of being alone, even once she’d gone to the palace to live with Liam and his parents, had destroyed any misplaced idea in her head that she was worthy of being loved. No. She was meant to spend her life alone, using her carefully constructed, caustic wit to hold everyone at arm’s length. The only time she had truly opened her heart … well. That ended the worst way imaginable and now he could barely stand to be in the same room with her.
“Sit down,” she ordered, pushing Maxwell down to the edge of the tub. He sat quietly while Olivia ran a washcloth under the cool water streaming from the faucet. Turning back to face him, she gently ran the cloth over Maxwell’s face, cleaning the dried blood from his striking features. “You’re so stupid sometimes,” she muttered, her words at odds with her loving touch. “Why do you insist on driving me crazy?”
Maxwell grinned up at her, wincing slightly at the pain from his busted lip. “Driving you crazy is the best part of my day, Liv. Besides, it’s the only way I can see that beautiful smile of yours.” He reached up with one hand and gently brushed her lips with his thumb. She was so god damn gorgeous; he had thought so from the moment they’d met. Even at seven years old, he knew five-year-old Olivia was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and had decided then and there that he would do anything he could to stop the lonely tears that often fell down her cheeks.
The first time Maxwell kissed Olivia, it was a humid summer night on the Cordonian shore. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was, at that time, his best. The sun had dropped into the sea and the night air had brought a semblance of relief to the sunburned young nobles scattered on the sand.
Liam and Drake had wandered off somewhere past the rocky outcropping that skirted the coast, stealing smoldering glances and brushing hands. Maxwell didn’t know why they just didn’t come clean to the rest of them. It wasn’t like it was a secret that they were all messing around with one another, exploring their burgeoning sexual desires safely and with the people they trusted most; hell, Maxwell had even found himself wrapped up with the young prince one night after too much Castelsarrellian wine. Leo and Madeleine were a few yards away from where they’d set up a bonfire, laid out on a large blanket, hands and lips roaming. Olivia sat across the fire from Maxwell, a frown creasing the smooth skin between her eyes, which glinted like peridot in the firelight.
“Hey, Liv, what’s up?” Maxwell called to her, wondering, as he always did, what he could do to bring a smile to her gorgeous face. Startled, she looked through the flames at Maxwell, the shadows licking his features making him look older than his eighteen years. As a boy, the younger Beaumont had been chubby, relying on his humor and enchanting personality to ensnare the girls at court. Add on a few years and about seven more inches, and Maxwell now looked every bit as enticing as Liam and Drake, Olivia thought. Sculpted where he’d once been soft, Maxwell was tall and lean, and sixteen-year-old Olivia blushed prettily at his attention.
“Me?” she called to him, confusion etched on her face. She darted her eyes around, sure that he must be talking to someone else; she’d likely misheard him. Her knees drawn to her chest, Olivia watched as Maxwell rose from his towel and sauntered over to where she sat, dropping down next to her on the beach blanket.
“Of course, you. There’s no one else here.”
His smile made Olivia’s stomach lurch, although not unpleasantly. She was used to feeling the warm simmer of young lust around Liam and Drake, a comfortable desire that the three of them languidly explored whenever they had the chance. This was a jolt, like an electrical shock to her system, and Olivia wondered if this was what Maddie had been talking about, that night when the two of them had gossiped like school girls about the young men of the Cordonian court.
“You’ll know when you feel it, Livvy,” Madeleine had announced imperiously to the younger girl. “It’s like your worst fear and your greatest desire combined,” she explained, her face taking on the dreamy quality she always wore when talking about Leo. “You’ll feel sick to your stomach, but in such a good way!” Madeleine sighed happily and Olivia rolled her eyes. Maddie had a tendency to be such a drama queen, but she was the closest thing to a girl friend around the palace, so Olivia tolerated her as best she could. “That sounds terrible, Maddie,” Olivia countered with a sniff of disgust. “Love shouldn’t make you feel sick. Love should make you feel safe and comfortable.”
Olivia instantly thought of Liam, with his kind eyes and gentle disposition, or Drake with his protective nature and handsome face. They were the kind of boys she would grow to love; once, Drake had even whispered those three words to Olivia, when he thought she was asleep after a ball at the palace. They’d both been sneaking whiskey and were worse for the wear. Drake had carried her to her room, tucking her in gently and kissing her softly before leaving. Olivia could remember his whispered promise that, in a few years time, when they were older and ready, he would make her his. Her heart had swelled, thinking how lucky she would be to have a boy like Drake love her.
But now, Olivia thought sourly, he and Liam were always together, shutting her out, only interested in a quick romp late at night when one or both of them were drunk. Tonight, they had wandered off down the beach without her and Olivia knew that soon they would tire of her altogether.
“So why is such a pretty girl looking so sad on such a beautiful night?” Maxwell’s voice brought Olivia back to the beach, to the handsome young Lord pressed against her side. She met his sparkling blue eyes, sapphires in the firelight, and again felt that surge throughout her body, making her breasts tingle and bringing a small rush of heat to her core. She had never been this close to Maxwell Beaumont; from here, she noticed the freckles sprinkled across his tanned face, the whiteness of his teeth, the curve of his bicep as he relaxed next to her.
“I’m not sad, Maxwell,” Olivia replied primly, to which Maxwell threw his head back and laughed, the warm, deep rumble making Olivia squirm again with the feeling of … something …
“Okay, that was Duchess Lythikos talking. Now tell me why Olivia is sad?” Maxwell smiled gently, and Olivia felt an unfurling of emotion in her gut and found herself confiding in him.
“I just feel lonely,” she admitted, looking down. “Leo and Maddie are always together, and I used to hang out with Liam and Drake and now they’re …,” Olivia trailed off, unsure how much Maxwell knew about the prince and his best friend. Nodding, Maxwell slung an arm around Olivia’s bare shoulders, the heat from his arm infusing her with warmth. “Liam and Drake are close, Liv,” he acknowledged. “They’re figuring some things out. But I know they care about you a lot.” He squeezed her gently into his side. “How could they not? I know I do.”
Olivia gasped quietly, lifting her almond-shaped green eyes to his face. There, she saw no malice, no hint of humor. Just his handsome face, smiling softly down at her with no hint of guile in his features.
“You do? I mean … you care … about me?” Olivia whispered, unsure if she had heard him correctly. Every person that Olivia had ever loved had left her; even if Maxwell cared now, he’d soon tire of her, just like …
Maxwell’s gaze never left Olivia’s face, drinking her in. She was scared, he knew, scared to let anyone in, to lose anyone else. But Maxwell wasn’t a quitter, and he didn’t give up on people. She was young, but he knew how he felt. He just had to convince her. He slid his arm from it’s companionable place around her shoulders down to her slim waist, reveling in the feel of the soft skin there. With his other hand, he gently cupped her face, letting his thumb brush against her pillowy lips. He felt her sharp intake of breath, watched her pupils dilate.
“Can I kiss you, Olivia?” Maxwell murmured, watching her carefully for a reaction. Her delicate, white throat bobbed as she swallowed, her mind weighing her sense of decorum against her desire for him.
“Please.”
Her quiet plea sent a rush through Maxwell, and he forced himself not to grab her like he wanted. Instead, he lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her full lips in the sweetest kiss he’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Even though it was chaste, Maxwell felt the passion inside her, could see hints of the woman she would soon become. Olivia mewled in the back of her throat, her hands coming up to tangle in the thicket of Maxwell’s hair. He let her take charge, never wanting to push her, but ready to take whatever she would give.
Olivia had never been kissed like this. Maxwell made her feel like a woman, not like Liam and Drake, who treated her like a playmate, a friend. No, Maxwell kissed her like he wanted her, not just as a means to an end. Olivia surprised herself with the sounds she made, knowing they were unladylike, but unable to stop herself. She crawled into Maxwell’s lap, straddling his waist gracefully, trying not to press down on his (large!) bulge, but unable to stop herself.
Maxwell pulled away from the sweetness of Olivia’s mouth when she began grinding down on him. This wasn’t the way things could go, not for them. He wasn’t willing to rush things, wouldn’t treat her the way Liam and Drake did.
“Liv, sweetheart, you’re killing me,” he groaned, picking her up easily by the waist and setting her back on the blanket beside him. Her green eyes clouded with worry and shame; she was misinterpreting his actions completely. Before he could watch her eyes tear up, he whispered another kiss against her lips. “Don’t you dare think I don’t want you,” Maxwell insisted, tilting her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, but our first time together is not going to be on a beach, in front of our friends. You’re too special for that.”
He watched her face carefully, waiting for an acknowledgement that she believed him. She slowly nodded, a blush staining her fair skin. “But you do want to do … that?” A tentative smile spread across her lips. Now that she’d had a taste of Maxwell Beaumont, she wanted more.
Maxwell chuckled, again letting his thumb brush against her soft lips. “Absolutely, and more than once. Don’t ever doubt that I think you’re the most special girl in the world.”
“You always do that,” Olivia said, smiling to herself as she pulled away to rinse the cloth in the sink. Maxwell, face now clean and shirt disposed of, followed to stand behind her, watching her face in the mirror.
“Do what?”
She turned the tap off, flicking her gaze up to meet his in their reflection. “You always brush my lips like that. With your thumb.” A soft smile graced her face and Maxwell’s heart nearly beat out of his chest. All he’d ever wanted was to see his girl smile. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back against his broad, tanned chest.
“Does it bother you?” He bent his head to kiss her temple gently.
“No, it actually reminds me of …,” Olivia trailed off, biting her lip. She hated showing her sentimental side, knowing it just made her seem weak. With everyone else, it was easy to act as though she didn’t care, but Maxwell had always been able to reach her softness, the delicate heart of the girl who just wanted to be loved.
His eyes glittered playfully, memories of the years deeply ingrained in his soul. “It reminds me of the first time we kissed,” Maxwell said, turning Olivia around in his arms to face him, always finding the words when she herself couldn’t.
“That night on the beach, when you were just a shy, sixteen-year-old girl, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, even then. I had wanted to kiss you so many times before then, and that night, when you were so sad over Liam and Drake, all I wanted to do was make you feel as special as you are.”
Maxwell took Olivia’s face in his hands. “I remember that I didn’t want to stop, when you sat on my lap and shimmied your hot little body on mine,” he laughed at the memory of himself as an eighteen-year-old boy, ready to explode at one touch. “I remember how sweet you tasted, and how it was the best kiss I’d ever had. Not that there was much to compare,” he admitted self-deprecatingly.
“I remember that I wanted to touch every inch of you, but I didn’t want to scare you,” he continued, “and I didn’t want you to think I would use you they way everyone else around you did. I remember I wanted to make you laugh, would do anything to make you smile that beautiful smile. I remember I wanted to protect you, I wanted to be your knight in shining armor, even though I was only a second son, and I would never rank high enough for you to think seriously about me.”
Maxwell swallowed, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. There was the truth, out in the open. He would never be enough for Olivia. She was a duchess in her own right; he was the spare to a duchy in financial ruin. That’s why he’d held her at arm’s length for so many years, because he couldn’t bear to give himself to her completely, only to be broken by the rules of the nobility that they’d be forced to follow. He dropped his hands and took a step back, waiting for her to make the first move, just like he always had.
Olivia’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. All these years, groomed to take over the responsibilities of a duchess, she had forgotten that girl on the beach. The one who still knew how to laugh and smile, the one who felt the stirrings of something amazing one summer night when she was sixteen. So caught up in the business of running Lythikos, of making sure its citizens were happy and fulfilled, she had completely bypassed finding her own happiness, choosing instead to keep everyone away to avoid the possibility of being hurt. Now real, true happiness stood before her, and he had been there all along. It didn’t matter what his rank was, who his father was, or how much money he had. All that mattered was that Maxwell made her happier than she had ever thought possible.
Olivia straightened her spine, throwing her shoulders back and affecting her most regal stance. She appraised Maxwell silently for a moment, perfectly groomed eyebrow arched, a playful glint in her mossy stare.
“Do you think you can handle being a Duke?” she asked briskly, closing the space Maxwell had put between them. Understanding dawned on his face, a huge smile spreading across his lips. “A Duke? You must be mistaken. Bertrand is the duke, sweetheart,” he replied playfully. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her even closer, her thin chemise brushing the hard planes of his chest.
Olivia rolled her eyes, grinning up at Maxwell and twining her arms around his neck. “Must you always be so obtuse?”
He gazed down at the woman in his arms, watching her transform into his Olivia, bright, beautiful, competent, and utterly joyful, her carefully-constructed walls crumbled to dust.
“I must. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to use the word ‘obtuse’ nearly as often.”
Olivia laughed, happiness radiating from her entire body. She pulled Maxwell’s face down to hers, gently taking his mouth and making the rest of the world drop away. Their kiss lasted only a moment before she pulled away, searching his eyes. Finding nothing but love in their depths, Olivia asked Maxwell for something she’d never had the courage to before.
“Make love to me, Maxwelll, please,” she whispered.
Maxwell lifted Olivia off her feet, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to the luxurious bed in the next room, never taking his eyes from hers. He placed her gently in the middle of the bed and knelt at her side, looking down at the woman who had stolen his heart, seeing that beautiful, shy, fragile, sixteen-year-old girl all over again. Her dark red tresses splayed against the stark white bedding, the pink slip nightgown she wore lightly caressing the curves he knew lay underneath. Her creamy, unblemished skin lightly flushed, just like that night they had kissed before the fire and her eyes, oh god, her eyes, green like the coming of spring and wide with wonder, trust shining in them.
“I am the luckiest guy in the world, Liv,” he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. He watched her eyes fill with tears of happiness, her angelic smile taking his breath away. He knew, then, that he would gladly spend the rest of his life doing anything to keep that smile from hiding away again.
“I love you, Olivia.”
She gasped, his words filling a void in her soul she hadn’t even realized was there. Happiness, the kind of true joy that comes from finding the one your soul craves, the one who completes you, spread throughout her body.
“And I love you.”
Maxwell pulled Olivia up against him, crashing his mouth onto hers, ignoring the sting of his injured lip. Their tongues swirled together, perfectly in sync, tasting each other with a newfound bliss. Peppering kisses down her throat, across the delicate curve of her collarbone, Maxwell was sure he’d never tasted anything sweeter than Olivia’s skin.
“God, you’re incredible,” he muttered, his mouth blazing a trail of heat with each touch. He sucked gently where her neck and shoulder met, one of her favorite spots, he knew, earning a breathy moan in response.
“Maxwell, please,” she sighed, tilting her head so he had better access, “I need you.”
Pulling back, Maxwell gave a Olivia a devilish grin. “Where do you need me, sweetheart?” He pressed his lips chastely against hers. “Here?” Slowly, he placed wet kisses down the column of her neck until he reached her breasts, lightly laving one hidden peak until it stood out against the dampened fabric of her slip, shades of pink upon pink. “Or here?”
Not waiting for a response, Maxwell again laid Olivia back on the bed, traversing her body with his mouth. He pushed the filmy fabric up under her breasts, heaving with desire from his seduction, lightly skimming her flat stomach with his teeth, circling her navel with the tip of his tongue. Everywhere, she smelled and tasted delicious, like orange blossoms and honey and her musky arousal. Maxwell felt drunk on the woman underneath him, his senses completely overcome, unwilling to pause his travels of her gorgeous body.
He reached the lacy waistband of her tiny briefs, again pink, everything pink, sliding them down with his teeth and tongue until they bunched over her sex, finally reaching a hand up to pull them down her long, slim legs, then returning to her center, the darkest shade of pink and glossy with her arousal. Without preamble, Maxwell placed his mouth directly over her slit, sliding his tongue up to collect her juices, sweet and delicious, before mumbling against her skin.
“Or do you want me here?”
Olivia thought she might explode from the intense pleasure of Maxwell’s mouth. Her hips bucked to meet his mouth, out of her control, and a cry escaped her.
“There! God, there!”
Maxwell smirked briefly, loving how he could unravel Olivia so quickly. He made love to her slick lips with his tongue, pressing and licking the way he knew she liked, pausing at her hood to suck at the nub peeking out at him. He ran his tongue lightly back and forth against her clit, keeping his lips firmly suctioned around that most sensitive spot, enjoying the feeling of her smooth thighs tightening around his head like a vise.
Tightness began in Olivia’s core, building to a throbbing ache that made her clench her walls in anticipation of Maxwell’s thickness. She let her hands drift up her sides, pushing her slip above her breasts to pluck and roll her small nipples between her fingers. Maxwell watched from his vantage point between her legs, his own arousal pushed down into the mattress as he pleasured her, just waiting for the right moment to plunge himself into her wet heat and love her the way she wanted.
“Maxwell, god, you’re so good,” Olivia moaned, her climax just out of reach. His mouth was amazing, there was no question, but she wanted more. “Please, Maxwell, I need you inside me!”
Maxwell nearly came right there, the sight and sound of Olivia Nevrakis begging for him almost too much to handle. He growled, staking his claim on the woman below him, and thrust his tongue into her waiting hole, her essence covering him from nose to chin as he tongued her, in and out. He knew she was close, but decided to make her wait, turning the tables on their lovemaking. He usually let Olivia remain in control, giving what she wanted and taking what she gave. Now, with confessions of love between them, Maxwell wanted to show her how it felt to be owned.
Olivia cried out in dismay when Maxwell moved away from her body, pulling his tongue out of her just before she tipped over the edge. He rose up and leaned over her, a hand pressed on either side of her head, the intensity of his blue eyes leaving her breathless.
“Listen to me, Olivia,” he ordered, his eyes glinting as though she were his prey. “You are mine. Your mind, your soul, and your beautiful fucking body, they all belong to me.”
A fresh wave of arousal came gushing from inside her, spurred on by Maxwell’s words of dominance. Her need for control slipped away, bit by bit, and she allowed herself to give him everything he asked.
“I’m yours.”
Maxwell bent to meet Olivia in a bruising kiss, her hands coming up to press against the rippling muscles of his back. She felt the insistent pressure of his dick right at her throbbing entrance; she knew she wouldn’t last long once they were joined. Unable to hold back, she bucked her hips into his, attempting to capture him in her void.
“Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart,” Maxwell warned, pulling back slightly. Olivia let out a frustrated moan and lightly slammed her fists into the bed beneath her. She wasn’t used to waiting, was used to Maxwell giving her exactly what she needed. The anticipation, however, thrilled her all the same, her pussy impossibly wet, her arousal dripping down her lips and coating her upper thighs. Maxwell watched her, skin flushed with desire, lips parted, pupils dilated, and grinned down at her.
“I love teasing you, Liv,” he laughed, brushing his nose against hers. “Your frustration only makes you sexier.”
Olivia growled and again jerked her hips up. “I swear, Maxwell Beaumont, if you don’t fuck me right now, you won’t see this pussy again for a very, very long time.”
He knew she was all talk, but decided to let her have her way. “Well, I can’t have that now, can I?”
With one thrust, Maxwell plunged his cock into Olivia’s hot, tight chasm, grunting at the feeling of her walls wrapped securely around him. Crying out, Olivia threw her head back in ecstasy, digging her nails into his shoulders at the intrusion.
“Fuck! Maxwell, god, you’re huge,” she moaned, opening her eyes to see his blue eyes locked on her face. At her words, another smile, her smile, stretched across his face. “You don’t need to butter me up, Liv, I already love you.”
She giggled up at him, his words like a soothing balm to her soul. Love. She was in love, and this beautiful, funny, sweet man loved her back. Reaching her hand around his neck, Olivia pulled Maxwell down to her, meeting his lips in a searing kiss.
“I love you too, you fool. Now fuck me, please!”
“With pleasure.”
Maxwell began pumping into Olivia, holding himself up so she wouldn’t bear the brunt of his weight. He would never tire of being inside her; his length fit like a glove, and it felt like coming home whenever they were joined together. Overcome by the emotions surging through him, he pulled her hips down the bed roughly, tilting her pelvis up to meet his thrusts.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered, gripping her thighs against his waist. She obliged, the new angle allowing Maxwell to hit her g-spot with each push of his hips.
“Oh my god,” Olivia moaned, her hands coming up to tease her breasts, her nipples already hardened from desire. She plucked and twisted, pinching the distended buds between her thumb and forefinger. An electric jolt flashed from her chest down to her core, her orgasm tightly coiling inside her.
Maxwell watched, enthralled by the sight of the sexy woman writhing beneath him, his own release building. His long fingers found Olivia’s clit and began rubbing in circles, first lightly, then pressing down on the nub.
“I want you to come for me, sweetheart,” he ground out, gritting his teeth against the sensation of Olivia’s walls tightening around him. He refused to come before her, needing to see and feel her coming apart. Speeding up his thrusts, he held her up against him, ensuring that each stroke of his cock lit fire against the bundle of nerves deep inside her.
Olivia continued to tease her nipples as Maxwell fingered her clit, her climax just out of reach. “God, I’m so close,” she panted, needing to come like she needed to breathe. “Please don’t stop!”
“Never,” Maxwell promised, continuing to drive into her pussy. The familiar tightening in his balls signaled his own impending orgasm, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. “Liv, come with me,” he ordered roughly, pinching her clit lightly. “Now.”
Olivia shattered under Maxwell, bright white light stealing her vision. Her slim body arched off the bed, her back curving, her hands still pressed to her breasts. “Maxwell, oh, god, Maxwell!” she called out, her words mingling with unintelligible cries of pleasure. God, fuck, it feels so good!“ She continued to grind her hips against his, needing to feel him pressed tightly inside her, filling her up with his thick member.
Her walls clamped around his cock like a vise, her beautiful body lost in pleasure, Maxwell finally gave himself over to his own climax. Grunting, he stilled and felt himself release, thick streams of cum coating the inside of her pussy. “Fuck sweetheart, that’s it, god, that pussy’s so good,” he groaned, throwing his head back, holding her tightly against him.
Together, the lovers remained suspended in pure ecstasy, the cries of their pleasure mingling. Neither of them had ever felt anything like it before, even with each other. Maxwell pulled Olivia up into his arms, holding her against him even as he continued to pulse inside her.
“You’re amazing, Sweetheart,” he mumbled against her lips, stealing her breath as he swiped his tongue inside her mouth. “I’m never letting you go.”
Olivia kissed him deeply, giving over every part of herself. There was no going back; she belonged to Maxwell completely, the love between them sealed by the physical act. She no longer felt afraid to let him in, instead buoyed by the idea that she would always have him by her side. She would no longer be alone, lonely. She now knew real love.
They remained like that until their breathing evened out, mouths meeting between whispered words, promising forever. Eventually, Maxwell laid Olivia back on the bed, brushing her hair back out of her face as he lay beside her. Face-to-face, they stared at one another, completely enamored.
“I’ve wanted to say those words to you for so long,” Maxwell uttered, running his thumb across her lips in that achingly familiar gesture. Olivia smiled and kissed the tip of his thumb.
“What’s that? ‘Fuck, it feels so good?’” She smirked playfully, knowing full well what he meant, but still wanting to tease him. He grunted in response, pulling her body to his, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.
“No, smartass.” He tilted her chin up and met her eyes. “I love you.”
Olivia melted into his embrace, brushing a sweet kiss against Maxwell’s lips before settling down against him, her face buried in his chest. He continued to stroke her back and her hair, both of them enjoying the quiet comfort of one another. She pulled back slightly to speak, only for the words to die on her tongue. Staring ahead for a moment, sure she was imagining things, the dwindling light outside playing tricks with her vision. No, it was …
Following her.
“Uh, Maxwell?” Olivia muttered, unable to believe she was in love with a man who had willingly done this.
“What, sweetheart?” he responded drowsily.
“Why the hell is that hippo look staring at me?”