She wasn’t quite certain how, but she knew that he could. That he knew how.
“Justice, I need…” she bucked against his hand.
“I know what you need,” his voice whispered along her skin sending more tendrils of pleasure to her core.
“I want,” she started again.
He laid the palm of his hand against her most sensitive bud even as one of his fingers slid inside her, her body convulsed in pleasure. “Did you want this, love?”
“Yes,” came her hissing answer. Lord above did she want it. And more. All of it. Everything.
But she couldn’t make her lips work to form more words as his mouth slid lower, over her belly and down her hip.
“Your thighs are like fine silk,” he murmured against her skin. “I love them.”
She blushed then. The first time since he’d started touching her. But she knew he was now looking at her body and she knew thinner women were more fashionable. Did he like how she looked? She’d never been so exposed. “My corset hides a great many sins. I—”
“Shh,” he whispered, his tongue swirling along the inner skin of her leg. Her womanhood throbbed with need, somehow made keener the closer his mouth drew. “I’ve never seen a more perfect woman in my life. I’ve been dreaming of your curves for weeks.”
That made her gasp and words failed her as his mouth replaced his hand, his tongue swiping through the folds of her sex.
She clamped a hand over her own mouth to keep from crying out again. With one hand at the top of her curls, he pulled her skin taut, making the pressure from his tongue on the sensitive skin even more delicious.
Then, one of his other fingers slid into her channel and she nearly exploded from the pleasure.
His pace had been slow for so long that when he sped up, she could barely breathe as her body was overwhelmed by the sensation rocking through her.
She dug her fingers into his hair, her toes curling tight, as she wondered how the tension would ever end. It was building and building inside her as her head thrashed back and forth searching out relief.
And then she exploded against him, coming apart in a thousand beautiful pieces. Her hands went limp in his hair, stroking down his neck even as she whimpered out her satisfaction.
Justice lifted up and away from her.
She blinked a hazy stare at him, missing the feel of his body immediately. She wanted him back close to her skin. But one look at his face and she realized though her tension had been satisfied, he was still suffering. His jaw was granite hard as the tendons in his neck, stretched tight against his skin.
She lifted her arms up to him in open invitation. She wasn’t certain exactly what she offered but she knew he needed it and she’d give him anything he wished for now.
His shirt sailed over his head, and then he tugged at his breeches. They only made it as far as his knees before he came back down on top of her again.
The feel of his skin against hers was divine and she rubbed against him, just wanting more.
He moaned, the thickness of his manhood pressing against her soft folds.
And then she realized exactly what lovemaking meant. His finger had been in her channel and now…
“Justice,” she said, a bit of fear making her voice waver.
He smiled at her. “I know, love. I’m a bit…large,” he said, reaching his hand between her thighs as he pumped his own flesh.
“It fits?” she asked, skeptically trying to assess him again. His finger had made her delightfully full. When he’d pulled off his clothes, she’d been distracted by the width of his chest, the breadth of his shoulders. The bulge of muscle in his upper arms.
She’d even noted the flat of his stomach peppered with a bit of hair.
But she’d not adequately judged his... girth.
“It fits,” he answered with a ghost of a smile. “But we can wait to test it out until we are wed. There are other ways I can get a bit of relief.”
She reached down between their bodies, too, her hand covering his as he worked himself. She drew in a deep breath.
She was tired of being afraid. Of being meek. “No.”
“No?” he asked, sounding a bit strangled.
Then she realized he might have thought she was denying him any pleasure at all.
She tilted her hips, taking in more of his tip, even as his hand stopped his rod from going in any further.
He groaned, nuzzling her neck. “Move your hand, Justice,” she commanded, pulling at his fingers.
“Violet.” Her name, a single word on his lips sounded like a plea. Like he was begging.
She didn’t say another word as she plucked harder at his hand, his fingers loosening from around his manhood. He sank a bit deeper inside her and to her shock, he felt…good.
Pleasure rippled along the ridges inside her body. Spreading her legs wider, he sank deeper in her still and that felt less good. A burning sensation replaced the pleasure and when he pushed with his hips, sinking all the way in, her insides were ablaze.
He stopped, stroking her hair back from her face. “I’m sorry, love. It only hurts this one time. It will go away soon.”
She nodded as he waited for another minute and then began to move. Slowly at first and then faster.
He was right. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it wasn’t comfortable either.
Still, she could feel the tension mounting in him, just as it had done in her. And when he let out a loud groan against her neck, his body convulsing, she knew he’d found his release. She held him tight, his body collapsing on hers.
She wasn’t certain how long they lay like that. Could have been minutes, might have been hours. Because his large body pressed to hers was all she needed to fall into a deep sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Justice was up early. Which meant he’d barely slept an hour.
He’d have liked nothing more than to stay in bed, wrapped in Violet’s arms. Her skin, pressed to his, had been almost too good to resist. Her fresh floral scent wrapped about him, even as the warm weight of her leg pushed him down into the mattress. She’d sighed in her sleep. A sweet sound that had tickled his ear and made him want to roll her over and kiss her awake to make love to her again.
But her safety had finally driven him from the bed.
He had to find Macklemeyer.
Catch the man before he could do any more damage. Hurt anyone else.
The very idea that that heathen would be anywhere near Violet made his stomach knot. The old Justice reared his head. The one that punched first and asked questions second. With that in mind, he barged into Sayden’s room and shook his brother awake.
“What the fuck?” Sayden asked as he rolled over. “What time is it?”
“Six,” Justice answered.
“Six? I didn’t go to bed until 4…4:30? Why are you fucking shaking me?”
“We need to find him.” Justice gave his brother’s shoulder a good hard punch.
“He’s got an arrow in his leg. How far can he go?” Sayden turned his head away, burrowing his face deeper into his pillow. “A few more hours aren’t likely to make a difference.”
“Knowing him. Far. Do you want to get this done and travel north or what?” Justice asked, knowing full well, those words would get Sayden moving.
“Fuck,” was all he said as he pulled himself from the bed. “I hate you, you know that don’t you?”
“Yes,” he answered with a small smile. “Now come on. We’ll start by combing the beach. Maybe he washed up.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if he were already dead?” Sayden asked with a sigh as he shrugged on his shirt.
“I don’t think normal people talk like that,” Justice said as he opened the door. The sooner they started, the sooner this search would be done.
“Who wants to be normal?” Sayden sat on the bed to pull on his boots, ignoring Justice’s attempts to rush him. “Sounds bloody boring to me.” He tilted his head up giving his brother a sour look. “You s
ound more and more like one of the sheep every day. Bah.”
Justice couldn’t argue with that and trying would only waste time. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Sayden answered, finishing dressing by tucking two pistols in the back of his pants.
A quarter hour later, they trudged down the beach, ready to search. They started at the opening of the cave, each working in the opposite direction. There had been too many men to track footprints but as Justice worked his way up the beach, he searched not only the sand, but any nooks or crannies in the rocks. After two hours, he started back.
He found Sayden at the mouth of the smuggler’s cave. “No sign of him.”
“I didn’t see him either,” Justice answered, picking up a rock and giving it a good toss. “You checked the tunnels, too?”
Sayden nodded. “And the general has the entire area crawling with soldiers. Of course, no one has caught him yet, but they’ve been hunting.”
“What’s next?” he asked. “How am I going to keep her safe with him still about?”
Sayden grimaced. “We could retreat. Hope he chases us.”
Justice winced as he scrubbed the back of his neck. It was a valid plan. He’d have his brothers as backup once they reached Cumberland where the rest of the family waited. But here he had an entire division of the British army. And there was a part of him that wanted to see this done now. He’d come here to complete a job. “I don’t know.”
“You’re marrying Violet, in part, as bait. Use her.”
Justice straightened, anger making his stare hard. “No.”
Sayden shrugged. “Suit yourself. Have you got another idea?”
He didn’t. Not really. “Go back to the general’s. Eat and think.”
“Works for me,” Sayden answered starting down the path. “I’m starving and exhausted. I can’t wait to get back to the routine of making gunpowder.”
“Or starting a coal mine?” Justice replied as he followed.
“Exactly,” Sayden answered. “See. Even I crave some predictability.”
“Next, you’ll be getting married.”
“Very funny,” Sayden scoffed as they made their way up the beach and to their horses.
Silence fell as Justice attempted to come up with a viable plan. How could he flush Macklemeyer out?
He needed to finish his job and keep Violet out of harm’s way. He pictured her in the bed as he’d left her. He’d give anything to be there now, her body wrapped around his. Justice closed his eyes for a moment.
Then an idea came to him. “Who do we know that Macklemeyer doesn’t? I’ve got some bootleg whiskey that we might be able to pass off as new contraband we want him to move.”
“That’s a damn good idea.” Sayden slapped his leg. “Where’d you get the whiskey?”
“Father,” he said curtly. “Can you believe it? Something from him might finally come in handy.”
But then Justice slowed his horse even as Sayden kept talking. “Even stopped clocks are right twice a day.”
They approached the general’s house, the turnoff just to the right. But up ahead, a carriage kicked up dirt, rolling far faster than a normal vehicle would go.
“What the fuck is that?” Sayden asked, squinting into the distance.
“I don’t know,” he answered as his stomach knotted. “But I think I should find out. Go back to the house. Make sure everyone is all right. I’ll check it out.”
Sayden gave a nod as he turned off the road.
Justice kicked up his horse to catch the carriage. It was likely nothing but…
Violet sat at a table in the library dutifully copying the letter her uncle had given her. She’d risen early, waking to the soft sound of her door clicking closed.
Justice had left without a word.
Her heart twisted again just thinking about it. Why hadn’t he at least kissed her goodbye?
She wished she had said more. Asked for some assurance.
Instead, she’d lost herself in the pleasure and now…now she wondered if he cared for her, too.
She’d tried. Attempted to tell him that she wanted more than his protection. But his kisses had muddled her mind and she’d lost sight of her goals.
She sighed again, rubbing her tired eyes. She’d skipped breakfast and headed straight to work. She’d wanted to do something, and her stomach had been churning.
Perhaps she was just emotional from the lack of sleep. Or she’d gone too long without eating. But butterflies beat in her stomach whenever she thought of Justice. Which seemed to be constantly. Surely when they both recovered, they could have a good conversation about their future and his feelings.
She’d known that he’d need time and help learning to express his emotions. She just wanted some hint those feelings were there to be unearthed. That over time, he might love her.
She dropped her quill back in the inkwell and rose from her chair, crossing to the window.
The early morning air was still crisp, and a bit of dew still clung to the plants.
She wrapped her arms about her midriff, hugging herself as she closed her eyes. She should go eat. Maybe even close her eyes for a few more minutes. But thoughts of Justice stilled her feet. Their physical connection should have soothed her. She’d never expected to experience that sort of pleasure and now that she had…. The truth was, she wanted even more of him.
Was that selfish? She wasn’t sure. But now she wished for all the things in life she’d been too afraid to ask for.
The library door softly clicked open. Was it him? She turned, her breath catching as she prepared to say all the things in her heart, but her words died on her lips.
It wasn’t Justice who stood in the doorway but Erwin Macklemeyer. And he had a pistol levelled at her chest.
She bit back a scream as he sneered in her direction. Her mouth opened and then closed again as fear thrummed in her veins. “Mr. Macklemeyer,” she said at last, her hands clasping at the base of her throat.
“Miss Wright.” His lip curled in derision. “I’d ask you to refrain from screaming. I’d hate to have to shoot you before our wedding.”
She stared at the barrel of the gun. Who threatened to shoot the woman they thought to marry? But if she were going to ask a question, that likely wasn’t it. Best not to inflame the man threatening her with violence. Instead, she tried to put a soothing smile on her face. “Mr. Macklemeyer, is that weapon strictly necessary?”
He stared at her, and the gun dropped a bit. He looked…pale. He was sweating and one leg of his pants was covered in blood. She took a tentative step toward him. He didn’t look well.
“I’m afraid it is,” he replied. “Your friend Lord Justice and his asinine brother attacked me last night. Are they here?”
She shook her head. To tell him yes might frighten him into rash action. So she told the truth. “I have no idea. I haven’t seen them.”
His brows went up. “You are many things, but I’ve never heard you lie before.”
“And I’m not going to now. I don’t know where they are.” She took another step toward him. “You need help. Come to the kitchen and allow me to look at your leg. It needs tending. Quickly.”
His shoulders drooped. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. As soldiers were part of the attack, you can understand how I’d be reticent to stay here. Does your uncle have soldiers about? I didn’t see any.”
Violet was encouraged by the cordial tone in his voice despite the gun in his hand. And again, she went for honestly. “I’m not certain. I haven’t seen any either, Mr. Macklemeyer. May I call you Erwin?”
He sneered. “No.” The gun dropped a few more inches. “You may as well know that my actual name is Michael.”
“Michael,” she replied softly. His name didn’t really matter and the fact he was finally being honest was either a good sign or a very bad one. Either way, she’d keep him talking. Surely someone else would appear at any moment. Justice perhaps. Hope fluttered in her chest. Her uncle. Even her
father would do. “Michael, you need help.”
He let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Funny, I like you more now that everything is falling apart.”
She pressed her lips together. She did not like him any more now that he lifted the veneer. In fact, right now, he was her least favorite person on the whole of the planet. But she needed him to remain calm. Her hands trembled as she drew in a slow breath. “Please. Let me help you.”
He raised the gun again. “Of course, you’ll help me. You’re to be my wife. I’m afraid your father will have to wait for the rest of his bride price but I’m going to need you to come with me now anyway.”
Fear stole her breath as she blinked at him. “Mr. Macklemeyer—Michael—you must know that I can’t—”
He cocked back the hammer. “I insist.”
She raised her hands, her breath stalling in her throat.
He waved her forward and she did as he commanded. She’d like to think he wouldn’t actually hurt her, but she still sported the bruise that proved he would. She reached him and he grabbed her arm, pushing her in front of him toward the door.
She let out the tiniest yelp, trying to be quiet as he’d commanded but fear took over for just a moment. “Please, Michael. I—”
“Relax,” he replied. “As long as you do as I ask, you’ve nothing to fear. You are my future, Violet.”
She swallowed down her retort as they made their way down the front steps to the drive where a carriage waited. He snapped open the door as she tried to catch the eye of the driver. Was he aware he was participating in a kidnapping?
But the man kept his eyes straight ahead as Macklemeyer pushed her through the door. She fell into a heap on the floor. He climbed in behind her with a groan of pain and then the carriage started.
She still lay on the floor as he collapsed onto a seat.
She wanted to cry. It was one thing to be at her uncle’s house, quite another to be alone with this man, going God only knew where.
Slowly she pulled herself up to sitting. His leg was in front of her face, and she realized fresh blood still oozed from the wound.
Her Wanton White: Dark Duke’s Legacy Page 11
