Wolfsgate (17 page)

“Yes, albeit a wicked one.” She sighed. “And if Andrew was about, he was his lackey or spy.”

He grit his teeth at hearing the Adonis’s name cross her lips. “Yes, poor Andrew,” he muttered, drying his hands. Justine sprang from the bed and darted towards the large antique trunk in the opposite corner of the room. She jerked it opened and rummaged through layers of clothing and objects.

“Annie and I loved dressing up in your mother’s old gowns that she’d given us to play with. We would trip over those huge skirts everywhere we went. And these faux jewels of hers, too. Look, Brandon.” She held up a long strand of colored glass beads putting it over her head.

“Very regal,” Brandon said.

“What did you take us for, sir?” She curtsied and let out another soft laugh. An unusually eager sensation spiked through him at the sound once more. His eyes met her bright ones, and it was as if a flaming arrow pierced his chest. Her long thick waves of hair tumbled over her naked shoulders which peeked out from her nightdress, her taut nipples searing through the delicate fabric, the necklace falling between her breasts. A surge of heat flashed through his body and filled the room, squashing his ability to breathe. She turned back to the trunk.

“I’ve saved a few souvenirs from our childhood.” She spun to face him wearing a worn dark blue tricorn hat on her head. “Does this look familiar?”

He grinned. “That was my pirate hat.”

“Indeed it was, Captain. I think it was your grandfather’s before that, wasn’t it? And here we have your weapon of choice.” She brandished a small, thin wooden sword. “Oh and wait, there’s one more for you here somewhere.” She dropped the sword on the bed and bent over the trunk again digging through its contents. She shot up. “Here it is. Your majesty, may I present, the royal crown.” She flourished a fabric crown in the air that Molly had sewn for him out of several layers of thick gold material.

Justine lunged on the bed crawling across it to get to Brandon who stood on the other side. His breath jammed in his throat at the sight. She would be the death of him tonight. She sat up on her knees at the edge of the bed and propped the crown on his head. Her hands slid down his arms. He was under the spell of her relaxed, pleasure-filled eyes.

“Christ.” Brandon tossed the crown to the floor. Her eyes widened as his hand stroked her flushed cheek. “It would seem the lady-in-waiting is actually a Pirate Princess in disguise,” he whispered. His lips brushed the corner of her mouth, and she let out a tiny gasp.

Hunger for her flared all through him. Years worth of hunger that demanded its fill. Raw need combusted in his veins igniting small explosions through his entire body. He couldn’t stop it, and he didn’t want to.

He had to have her.

“And this Pirate Princess,” he said, his thumb tracing a line over her lower lip. “Has taken the King prisoner.”

His fingers slid down the slope of her throat, then back up around her neck. He scattered tiny soft kisses next to her mouth then pulled back to look at her for just a moment. Yes, she was speechless. His hands fisted in her hair, and his mouth crushed hers. The old tricorn hat tumbled to the bed.

His fingers stole over a breast and captured the nipple through the light fabric of her chemise. So beautiful, so soft, other worldly even. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting her, demanding of her. She let out a low moan and arched against his chest. He growled in her mouth as he pressed her back on the bed, the mattress shifting under their weight. His hands skimmed down her sides and swept under the thin fabric of her nightdress. Finally, her silky, naked flesh was in his hands.

“Brandon—”

He pressed his hard length in between her legs, nestling it there. She whimpered. That was encouraging. His wool dressing gown had opened, exposing his bare chest and abdomen. “Take it off me,” he whispered roughly. Her hands reached out and tugged on the belt until it untied. She slid the robe off his shoulders and down his arms, her warm hands stinging his skin. He shook the robe off, and it fell away. Her fingertips skimmed over his bare chest as her breathing grew deeper.

Brandon tugged the chemise from her body. His entire being seized at the sight of her bareness, the glass bead necklace laying over her breasts. She was an odalisque of the Orient. An exotic creature. Familiar yet foreign.

All expectation. All promise. All for him.

She was his.

He licked at her throat, drinking in her faint scent of lavender and the sweetness of the brandy on her breath. She was maddening. He was mad. Stark raving mad. For her.

He rubbed the glass bead necklace over her nipples and sucked on them both together. She writhed and let out soft cries at the friction, at his hands caressing her flesh. He squeezed her breasts together and suckled and adored them. Everything spun into a blur. He was a hungry, greedy beast. His one hand glided down over the delectable, smooth curve of her hip until it sank into the most private part of her.

“Oh, Justine,” he groaned in her ear softly biting on her ear lobe as his fingers explored her silken heat. He found her pearl and teased it, caressed it. A soft cry heaved from her lips.

“Brandon—” Her raspy voice sent a shiver down his spine.

“So wet for me.” His fingers moved more insistently. He raised his head and watched his hand working, her hips squirming. Then his gaze returned to her face, and his eyes melted with hers.

“I want you, Justine. Do you want me?” Her fingers dug into his arms, her breaths came faster.

“Tell me,” he whispered through ragged breaths. He had to hear her say it, needed to hear her say it.

“Yes. I want you.”

He kissed her like a famished beast, his lips then dragged across her jaw and down her throat. He removed the necklace from her neck and brought it between her legs running the beads gently up and down over her. He wanted nothing more than to make her as insane with need as he was.

“Brandon!” Her back arched, her legs squeezed together, her pelvis tipped up pleading for more.

“Yes…” he groaned as he dragged the necklace over her, teasing her, then laced it over her breasts. She grasped it, kneading the beads into her soft flesh. His finger entered her silky wetness slowly, and her body quaked underneath his invasion, her mouth falling open. Brandon let out a groan. Her eyes exploded with feeling, and she cried out.

“Christ, so beautiful, my beautiful Justine,” he murmured against her skin. He took the end of the necklace in his mouth, and her eyes flashed at him. He let it drop from his lips and licked a nipple. “I have to taste more of you, my delicious girl.” She arched her body into his like a kitten eager for play, her hands sweeping up into his hair, tugging at it.

He raised himself up and nudged apart her thighs. She blinked up at him and let out a whimper. His mouth sank over her, his tongue swirling through her. Her hands pulled at the necklace, and it broke apart, blue and green beads popping over her pale skin, skipping over the bed.

“Holy…”

The sweet and salty tang of her secret flesh on his tongue made his insides explode. He glanced up at her. Her head thrashed against the pillows, and her hands reached out to grip his hair once more. He caught her wrists and pinned them to the bed at her sides. His fingers entwined in hers holding her hands firmly down in the twisted sheets, and her upper body finally stilled. Her moans drummed in his ears like a siren’s call.

This was heaven.

Pure, bloody heaven.

What had come over him? He had never done this before to a woman, never been enticed by it, but now, now he was lost in Justine, sucking, swirling, his tongue pressing round, darting inside her. Her hips rocked to their own needy rhythm against his mouth urging him on. Her body shuddered in his ruthless hold, and she cried out sharply coming to a frenzied, pulsing release against his tongue. He licked at her gently, his heartbeat hammering in his chest.

“My tongue will never be the same,” he murmured against her inner thigh. A moan escaped her throat.

He needed to be inside her right this minute. This wasn’t just his body screaming for release, but the desire to completely consume Justine. He got a hold of his senses and his cock as he grit his teeth. Her eyes snapped open at the promise of his rigid length at her opening. He only wanted to explode, but he didn’t want to hurt her. He was determined to make it good for her. Very good. Damn well amazing.

He wanted her to like it. A lot.

He entered her, sinking inside her.

Her eyes pleaded with him one moment, then softened the next, her jaw slackening. She took in a breath, then lifted her hips up to meet his, her hands on his biceps, pulling him closer. Brandon gasped and closed his eyes for a moment, groaning over her as he filled her inch by devastating inch.

There was no breathing now, no thinking. Time stopped.

His lips touched hers as his one hand brushed the hair from her damp face. Her glassy eyes were fixed on his, her body stiffened.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered hoarsely. She shook her head.

He shifted himself and sank deeper inside her, then pulled himself out just a bit and slowly thrust in again. Their heavy breathing hung over them, the musky, warm scent of their arousal filled the room. His face loomed over hers. Justine’s eyes practically glowed. His lower lip quivered, his lungs tightened painfully, his throat thickened. His entire body throbbed, begging for one thing only. Her body took his in, offering him the world.

His eyes tried to focus on hers through the blur of sensation, this maelstrom of foreign emotion that had him in its grip, but he couldn’t. The breath choked in his throat.

He stopped moving inside her.

Justine’s one hand reached up and gently swept back his hair then slid down and wrapped around his neck. Her other hand cradled his face. What a soothing touch she had. How did she know he needed…

His heart thudded in his chest. Could she hear it?

“What is it, Brandon?” she whispered.

“You feel so good, so good. I want to…” He swallowed. “I want to stay right here.” He was drowning in Justine’s large eyes. If he could stay sheathed inside her forever, this luxurious, safe haven, he would. Here was a bliss he had never known before, and it wasn’t artificially induced. It was something else, he didn’t know what exactly. Had coupling ever been like this before?

Justine’s warm hand rubbed the straining muscles of his neck. She licked her lips. “Bran.” Her voice was soft, beckoning, seeping right through his pores, offering him sanctuary. The knuckles of her other hand delicately skimmed his hard, stubbled jaw until the harsh lines eased.

She bent her knees and brought her legs close to his sides, pressing them around his hips, rocking her pelvis up against his. With that one graceful, generous movement she took his breath away as her body took his cock deeper. A soft cry escaped her lips as she rocked against him once more, taking him in again. His eyes squeezed shut against the rapid fire detonation in his veins. The air hissed from his mouth, and his head arched back for an instant.

“Oh…Justine.”

A savage force inside him wanted nothing more than to slam into her hard and fast, but he did his damnedest to control the raging impulse to transform into a blood thirsty animal. He should control himself, shouldn’t he?

Well, just a wee bit.

His cock stroked in and out slowly as her fingers dug into his flesh. He dipped his face into her neck, the powdery scent of her damp skin driving him mad. His jaw clenched. “Jus?”

“Don’t stop,” she said through ragged breaths.

He lost whatever control he had left. His thrusts quickened, driving him forward in his search for more of this, more of
her
. The hair hung in his eyes as he watched her. He desperately wanted to pleasure her again, and, this time, to see that pleasure wash over her face. His insides tightened at the thought.

Justine’s hands swept down his damp back clasping him over the surging muscles of his rear. Her erotic little breathy noises came quicker. He needed to elicit more of them.

He hunted inside her, chased. She turned her head away, and her muscles tensed around him, but she clung to him, taking him all in, taking whatever he gave her. He finally went off, shuddering deep inside her, releasing himself into the embrace of her beautiful body. His mind was lost in a haze, floating somewhere in the hot room.

Brandon raised his head. “Justine,” his hoarse voice rumbled through the silence. “You…” his voice trailed off. She only stroked his back. He collapsed to her side, clinging to her.

Brandon woke up with a start. His eyes blinked in the darkness. Sweat pooled underneath his cheek, his head laying on her chest. A thought had pinned itself in his hazed mind and wouldn’t let go.

What the devil was it?

He raised himself up over her sleeping form.

Ah, yes. His wife had not been a virgin. Someone had gotten there before him.