Page 27 of Her Beast

Written across the front in bold black handwriting were the words:For Malcolm Barton Only.

“You talked to Smith?” he said, dread building in his belly as he looked at the ominous words.

“I hope I didn’t do wrong, sir. You always send me to him first if he’s in town.”

“No, no, of course you didn’t do wrong. I would have talked to him myself but I thought he was up North somewhere.”

“He was only in town for a day before he turned around and went back up to Liverpool. Er, anyhow, he told me to give him a week to talk to his contacts, but then today a messenger brought me this right before I came to see you. Sorry I didn’t mention it first.”

Malcolm nodded. “Check into the things I mentioned and let me know if you find anything interesting. That’s all, Joe.”

“Of course, sir. Good night.”

He waited until the door shut behind Joe before picking up the envelope, which felt too heavy for its size.

Whatever Smith had found out must be important or he would have just waited until their meeting next week. The second of December was the one night of the year when Malcolm was sure of seeing his mysterious friend.

He turned the envelope over and over, a sick feeling growing in his belly. Did he really want to know what Smith had found?

Toss it into the fire and go shag Maisie silly, Mal,Sukey advised.Or, better yet, go introduce yourself to Miss Julia Harlow since she is the first woman in fifteen years who’s piqued your interest.

Malcolm dismissed her foolish comment and turned to the black lacquer box on his desk, toggling the lever on the far right. The box was part of a state-of-the-art system that used electricity, rather than mechanical means, to ring servant bells.

Norris opened his study door not even a minute later. “Yes, Mr. Barton?”

“Tell Maisie I won’t be joining her tonight.”

Malcolm suspected that fucking would be the last thing on his mind after he opened this envelope.

Chapter 5

Julia stared at the canopy over her head and squirmed beneath the blankets, her finger circling her slick, swollen nub as she chased her second orgasm of the morning. She hoped this would be enough to satisfy her seemingly insatiable body, although she had little faith that she could eradicate the reason for her current state of arousal.

Last night Carl had given her thirty swats and her bottom still ached so badly that she could hardly move without crying.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst was what had happened around swat number twenty-six.

Actually, the worst was that Carl hadknownwhat happened, even though he’d not touched herthereor even said vulgar, offensive things. He’d done nothing but spank her; it was her own treasonous body that had betrayed her.

Once he’d quit chortling like the odious swine he was, he’d looked at her with an almost feverish stare and grabbed his disgusting erection, which was thrusting against his trousers. “See this?”

Julia hadn’t wanted to look, but it had been like trying to avoid staring at a carriage accident. The ridge pressing against the thin wool trousers had been shockingly huge—even his massive hand couldn’t make it look small. And then he’d stroked his big thumb over the end and Julia’s eyes had almost bulged out of her head: the cloth waswet.

She’d stared, entranced and revolted.

He’d sucked in a harsh breath as he’d caressed himself. “See what you do to me?”

Oh yes, she’d seen.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asked.

Julia knew what he’d meant. “No!”

Rather than make him angry—as she’d feared—he’d just laughed and stroked himself harder when she’d denied him. “You will… soon. Until then, I’ll be thinkin’ of you when I fist myself.”

Just the memory of his words and his expression of desperate desire caused her inner muscles to clench and flutter, hurrying her toward yet another climax.

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