Wolfsgate Page 25

  He crushed his mouth to hers. Justine surged forward embracing him, her tongue joining his, invading, devouring. His hand wrapped around her throat over her pounding pulse then tilted her head to keep her mouth open to his. A groan escaped him.

  This was the kiss she had longed for from him. A kiss that was reclamation and retribution all in one. Justine squeezed the firm muscles of his lower back and pressed her body into his. He shoved her down onto the bed with a grunt and ground into her. Her entire body contracted with need. She was starved for him, and she couldn’t conceal it or suppress it any longer.

  Brandon sat up on his knees throwing his robe to the floor. His eyes seared hers as he tugged up her nightdress, gripped her hips and raising them, pushed his cock inside her in one long thrust. A raw moan escaped her lips as he stretched her, filled her. She spasmed around him, taking him in.

  “Brandon—” Justine was engulfed in a rushing tide that wrenched any logic from her and unleashed that torrent of feeling that she had spent so much energy squashing for so long. She had missed this potent intoxication they shared. She had missed him.

  He gripped her hips tighter and ground himself deeper inside her, filling her with his hardness. He dug into her flesh as he thrust inside her over and over again, his pelvis rolling into hers, quicker, more desperate each time. The breath squeezed from her lungs. His raven hair hung loose about his shoulders, his eyes glittering over her. Her husband, the wolf lord, the slayer and devourer, threatened over her like a harbinger of her doom…and her rebirth.

  She wanted to free him and free herself. Her body was showing him, but she needed to tell him with her words as well. He needed to hear it.

  “I want you, only you.”

  The words rushed from her lips in the silence of the room cutting through his ragged breaths and her little gasps, and she bid them wrap around Brandon. His eyes burned over her. She relaxed her body in the grip of his hands and took all of him. She took everything he gave her, every insistent stroke demanding from her the inevitable end. He remained above her, though, detached, like a cruel stranger watching her.

  “You make me feel alive,” Justine whispered, her throat stinging. He groaned and his movements became sharper, his hips circling and rolling into her. He knew she liked that, and he wanted her to have it. That tight knot of pleasure twisted through her. “Only you, Bran,” Justine panted, her eyes stayed locked on his. He lowered himself onto his forearms. His chest rubbed over her sensitive breasts.

  “Fill me,” Justine rasped. Her hands clung to the rippling muscles of his back as she raised her knees higher at his sides. This was what she wanted most in the world; their bodies fused together, his cock driving inside her, taking from her, giving to her. Nothing else mattered now but this.

  Nothing.

  A low moan escaped her chest. The intense wave of sensation rushed and receded through her body all at once as if she were at the whim of a harsh current in a churning sea.

  “Don’t let me go, Bran.”

  “Never,” he breathed. All his muscles tightened as he thrust inside her. “Never.” Her hand slid up the side of his damp face, her fingertips brushing over his soft lips. He bit down on her index finger sucking on the tip, and her breath caught as her body gave way, jolting under him. Fierce pleasure shot through her like a flaming arrow torching everything in its path. Justine’s head twisted back on the pillow as she cried out.

  “Jus.” His rough voice catapulted her deeper into that abyss they had created. She clung to him as his body became rigid, his movements quicker, sharper. In the glare of his eyes she saw no compromise, no delicacy, no tact, only demand, only harsh precision determined to have its way.

  Justine squeezed him tightly inside her, both her heels digging into his rear. “Let go, Brandon,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. “Let go for me.”

  His eyes slid closed, and his body convulsed inside her as he grunted loudly. He buried his head in her neck and lay on top of her, spent, immobile, one hand at her throat, the other pressing in at her side. Their heavy breaths filled the room and the aroma of their desire laced the air.

  “You belong to me, Justine,” he said against her delicate skin, his fingers brushing the side of her breast, kneading it.

  Her heart plunged and thudded to a standstill as if under a lead weight. The hot, shimmering waves of pleasure skittered off her and were instantly replaced with cold shards of ice scraping at her skin. Justine’s hands fisted in his hair, and she pulled his face up over hers with all the strength left in her spent body. His glassy eyes strained over her, his lips parted.

  “But you don’t belong to me,” she rasped. “You don’t.”

  Brandon’s body stilled. “Jus—”

  “You’re hers,” Justine’s voice broke, and her fingers slid down the sides of his face settling on his shoulders. “You’ll always be hers.”

  “You saw us today?”

  “Yes. And at her house.”

  His eyes squeezed shut for a moment. “Justine, before you say or even think anything more, you must listen to me.” She held his somber gaze, her lower lip trembling as cold shivers raced through her insides.

  “I know how it looks,” Brandon said. “But that’s what I want.”

  ACID STUNG THE BACK OF HER THROAT. She spun her head away and arched her chest, pushing off from him. Her legs struggled to disentangle from his.

  “Justine, stop!” Brandon pushed his hips deeper into hers to still her desperate movements. “I meant that’s what I want it to look like.”

  Her movements stilled, but her hands remained pressed against his damp chest, her breathing labored. She studied his face. “What are you saying?”

  “I am not pursuing Amanda like some lovesick puppy. I’m playing a game with her and William. I have no interest in her other than claiming my revenge on her husband. It’s the most effective route with the most torment for my cousin.”

  The breath returned to her lungs. “You’re trying to make William jealous?”

  “Yes, and it’s working.”

  “It certainly is. You’ve convinced us all. Your great plan is a screaming success. Congratulations.”

  His hand cradled her face. “Frankly, I didn’t really consider…forgive me. The last thing I wanted to do was upset you.” His lips pressed together. “That’s what I did, isn’t it?”

  “Today William took it quite seriously. He came today to catch you out.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “And that accomplishes what exactly?”

  “Mess. A lasting stain between them. William detests mess. And now he feels the humiliation and the joy of deceit. He was behaving like a hungry dog with the scent of meat in the air this afternoon.”

  “And Amanda?”

  “She is well and truly hooked.” He raised himself on his elbows over her, his eyes searching hers.

  “Brandon, she’s enamored with you all over again. Maybe she’s still in love with you. But if this is only a game to you—”

  “She’s not in love with me. She only wants a new conquest, a new toy. Maybe that is her form of love, God knows.”

  “You’re sure of that? She used to have real feelings for you, didn’t she? Don’t you think it’s dangerous and cruel to encourage them after all this time?”

  “Don’t you think what they’ve done to us over the years is dangerous and cruel?” Brandon raised his voice.

  “I don’t want William to retaliate. And Amanda is tenacious. How far do you intend to go in the name of your revenge? How far have you gone?” She couldn’t resist asking in order to torture herself.

  His jaw tightened. “Nothing. Simple kisses, a few embraces.”

  Despite her efforts to remain controlled and composed, her chest tightened and her eyes stung. She twisted her hips away from his body to release herself from his cock still pinning her to the bed, but he only buried himself deeper. She let out a slow whimper as he pressed against her center.

  “
Touching her was surprisingly difficult. Her feminine charms hold no allure for me the way they once did.”

  “Oh? Now you know better?”

  “I do.” His fingers seared into her hip. “I know that you are something other, something so essential to me. I cannot explain it better, but I know I cannot do without you. I like what you and I have. Very much.” His lips pressed into her skin. “Please don’t turn away from me. I missed you, Jus, truly missed you.”

  She returned her gaze to his, her chin raised. “It’s obvious she harbors expectations for you and her.”

  He scowled. “I don’t give a toss what she expects. She’ll never have me.”

  “Then leave it. Leave them alone.”

  “I’m not afraid of William.”

  “Maybe you should be.”

  His brow snapped together. “What does that mean?”

  “Only that you should be more careful how you tread with him.”

  “What more can he do to us?” His thumb stroked her cheek.

  “If you truly mean it, if you don’t want her, let all of this go.”

  “I don’t want her, and let me say, I do not think I am Mrs. Treharne’s first attempt at an affair. She has impressive skills.”

  Justine’s stomach tightened. “I do not want to know.”

  “It is simply a game to her, a game she plays well.”

  “But it’s not a game to William. I don’t care about getting revenge. I don’t want to live under this cloud any longer. They have a child, Brandon. Don’t set about destroying their family for a game. That boy is blameless. He needs his parents and a home. Do not be the one to tear it down.”

  He sighed and pulled out of her gently, rolling back onto the bed.

  “I don’t believe this course of revenge is worth the price for all of us, nor is it worthy of you.” She turned on her side to face him.

  He didn’t answer. He only took her hand in his and squeezed it.

  “She’s still the pirate treasure you and William used to fight over, isn’t she?” Justine asked.

  As young boys, Brandon, William and Andrew often pretended to be menacing pirates on the high seas who would take Amanda, Annie and Justine prisoner from their make-believe island fort—a flat moss-covered boulder at the creek they could all stand on at once. Brandon and William would end up fighting over whose prisoner Amanda was, and more than once Andrew, Justine, and Annie would get bored and wander off to play somewhere else.

  “No such treasure,” Brandon murmured. “She’s only a convenient means to an end. My pursuing her is only about what I can achieve with William.”

  “You’ve won her, and he’s received your message. What will you do with your spoils of war, Captain?”

  “Make her walk the plank.” He chuckled as he took her in his arms. She rested her head on his chest as her fingers twirled through the crisp hairs on his skin.

  “You’re enjoying punishing her, aren’t you?” Justine asked.

  “Punishing her?”

  “Isn’t that part of this escapade for you? Punishing her for abandoning you and your brilliant future together?”

  “Perhaps.” His hand squeezed the flesh of her bare rear. “Oh, Jus, you realize if father hadn’t sent me to Jamaica, if Amanda hadn’t married William and waited for me, if I hadn’t been on that damned ship coming home, if I hadn’t survived, if I hadn’t been found, if they’d married you off to someone else—if, if, if—we wouldn’t be in this bed together right now.” His eyes pierced hers as she planted a kiss on his chest. Then another. “And we never would have—” Her fingers pressed over his lips.

  “Yes.”

  He kissed her hand and held it. “Now tell me about Charles.”

  “You men have an aversion to paying attention when women speak, do you not?” Her hand wrapped around his cock and stroked and pulled.

  “For fuck’s sake.” His breath hitched.

  “Are you paying attention now?” she whispered as her fingers cupped his balls then stroked him harder, quicker.

  “I’m most definitely paying attention, Lady Graven.” He rolled her on her back, grinning at her. “Do you believe me?”

  “I believe you, Bran. It’s them I don’t trust.”

  “Damn them,” he whispered sliding his hands under her chemise and over her bare hips. He thrust deep inside her quim in one long stroke. Justine bit her lip, her eyelids sinking as he dragged his cock out slowly and thrust back in. She moved against him, her hands pressing into his sleek back.

  His lips brushed her ear. “You’re my sweet Jus. I need you, love,” Brandon whispered as he filled her. A groan escaped his chest as he watched the emotion wash over her face.

  “Bran—”

  “No more talking.”

  “ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THE SIXTY-FIVE POUNDS?”

  Justine frowned at her husband from across the desk. “Must I repeat myself, Lord Graven?”

  “Really, t’isn’t worth an argument,” Davidson said glancing up at Justine. “Let me see.” He leaned over her paper and scanned her figures. She rubbed her stiff neck. They could have been finished ages ago.

  “Sixty-five it is.” Davidson grinned at Justine, then glanced up at Brandon. “I really must be off now milord. We’ll meet tomorrow to discuss the new sheep, eh?”

  Dear God, yes, discuss the damned sheep tomorrow. Justine rubbed at her temple.

  “Tomorrow.” Brandon lifted his chin at his manager.

  “My lady.” Davidson nodded at Justine and showed himself out.

  Justine tossed her quill on the desk. “Do you think I’m incapable of simple sums?”

  Brandon glanced up at her leaning back in the old leather chair. “Must you take offense so easily? All I asked for was confirmation.”

  “Confirmation?” she asked quirking an eyebrow. “Three times? How I managed without you for so very long I will never know. I remember a time that you and William did not do as well at sums as Annie and I.”

  “For God’s sake, woman, we were children then.” He scowled. “We wanted to chase toads and squirrels, not labor over sums.”

  Justine rolled her eyes.

  “Do you require a prize now?” Brandon asked, a smirk twisting his lips. Their governess had turned her lesson into a contest one day between the boys and the girls. Justine and Annie had beaten the boys soundly, and the governess had rewarded them with sweets. “I’m afraid I’m all out of toffee,” Brandon said as he collected the papers that were splayed across the desk organizing them into two separate piles.

  She sighed as she shuffled her collection of bills into one, even pile and slid them across the desk to Brandon. “I don’t require toffee.”

  He filed all of them into a leather folder. His long fingers worked quickly to fasten it, and her gaze rested on the elegance and efficiency of their movements. The ledger and the heavy folder thudded into the desk drawer. Brandon slammed the drawer shut and locked it. He laid his hands firmly on the surface of the desk.

  This damned desk.

  “What ever is the matter, Justine?”

  Her scalp prickled. Here on this desk, William had put the quill in her hand and held it there. Here on this desk, she had signed the many marital and banking documents that had changed her life so indelibly. Here in this study, he and Richard had hung over her in a severe yet gleeful manner, a unique talent they both possessed, convincing her, threatening her. Their solicitor had hovered in the doorway, his face red.

  The dire grimness and guilt that had haunted each one of those occasions beat through her afresh lacing her insides with ice. Such doom had pressed in on her then in this very room, in this very chair. She took in a breath and eased back in the chair, her hands sliding over the engraved arms, clutching the ends.

  And now?

  Now in this same room, on the same desk, she was organizing a household budget with her husband, the Baron of Graven, lord of Wolfsgate. Just another mundane activity for Lady Justine.

  Yes, exceedingly
normal, quite mundane.

  She breathed out again and slowly reached out a hand and traced a line against the rounded edge of the polished mahogany desk. Brandon’s desk. Now it was Brandon’s desk. Her fingers grazed the thumb moulding over the smooth green leather writing surface and traced over the seam of gilt tooling.

  His eyes narrowed over her. “Justine, are you unwell?”

  Normal. Justine and Brandon at Wolfsgate. Brandon’s desk.

  Yes, normal.

  The tension drained from her limbs, and a small smile swept over her lips. “I’m very well.”

  “Are you quite sure?”

  “Indeed, I am.”

  “You seem—”

  “Shall we open one of those new bottles of Madeira that arrived this morning?”

  “You want to try the Madeira?”

  “Hmm. A good Madeira would be just right.” She rose from her chair, fluid warmth stealing through her. “Yes, don’t you think? Let’s. I definitely need a glass of—”

  “I need to be inside you.”

  She stilled and met his gaze. His eyes had darkened and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Doing sums arouses you?” she asked.

  “Sums relax me. Arguing with you arouses me.” His voice was low and thick. “Come here.”

  Justine went to him as if under the power of an invisible force pulling her towards him. He put an arm low around her waist drawing her close, and her hand slid over the bulging hardness between his legs. A husky breath escaped the back of his throat, and a blaze of heat flared inside her. She touched her mouth to his, her other hand sinking into his hair as she slipped into his lap. He pulled her into a deep, hard kiss, and she was lost.

  “Here,” she said between kisses.

  “Pardon?”

  “Let’s do it here.” She pulled at the fastening of his breeches.

  “Here?” His eyes widened as her hands worked to free him.

  “Yes, here.”

  Here in this room where they had made her agree to their hateful plan.