Page 37 of His Scandalous Viscountess
“No.” It was all he could manage in that moment, since he was so overwhelmed with helpless anger and despair at how badly he’d screwed up.
“My father looked appalled, but my mother—heartless in a way I had never imagined—suggested I must have done something to deserve the beating, because no normal man would do that to his wife, were she not deserving of it. My father refused to gainsay her, and merely shut down after that. Not unsurprisingly, he preferred to avoid an argument with her rather than protect me.”
A full body quake shook her then, and he heard the first sniffle. As he wrapped her tighter in his arms, her tears dampened his shirt and shredded his soul. If the brute was not already dead, Wolf would have gladly killed him.
For a while they sat there as she cried, until he couldn’t take anymore. “Jules, I’m so sorry. So very sorry I didn’t do more.”
She wiped her tears and sat back a little. “There was nothing you could do. But you can imagine why a younger version of that man is not of any interest to me. I couldn’t survive a lifetime of marriage to someone who would be so callous. So harsh. There is no way I shall ever marry his son, and there is no way I shall allow him to trap Ros. I simply cannot.”
“I won’t fail you this time, Jules. Ros is safe for the moment, as are you. We will find a way to achieve a more permanent arrangement, I promise.”
He couldn’t control the gruffness of his voice as his words rumbled out, unfiltered by his surplus of emotion. And while he’d driven so far out to spend a lazy afternoon with her—possibly even coaxing her into making love outside—at the moment, all he wanted to do was hold her and keep her safe.
Forever.
Chapter 15
Julia stared at Wolf as he prowled around the blue room in The Market. She’d arrived early and had decided to get comfortable with the aid of one of the housemaids. Swathed in nothing but a silk robe, she currently found herself wishing she had stayed dressed.
“You want to do what?” she asked him again, because the first time she’d posed the question, it had come out as a breathy whisper.
Wolf’s smile barely met the criteria despite any resemblance to the gesture. The man was downright predatory. Tariq had once come to her in such a state. He had confronted an enemy and challenged the man to combat, only to have the coward throw himself on his own sword. Deprived of his target, and with no substitute to vent his spleen on, he had come to her seeking succor. Tariq had used her hard that night, availing himself of her body to release his tension.
It seemed plausible that Wolf was suffering similarly.
He made a tsking sound. “Do not pretend you did not hear me. I said that I wish to tie you up and fuck you.”
Part of her rejected the notion—the very idea—of making herself so vulnerable to a man again after her experience with Wallthorpe. She’d told Wolf of the beating, but not all of the humiliating details. She’d not revealed how her husband had tied her to the bed and whipped her. How the beating had gone on for hours, the old man only pausing to allow his arm to rest, so he could resume where he’d left off.
With a shake of her head, she pushed the old memories aside. It had been years since she’d dealt with the aftermath of her marriage. Years since she’d accepted her fate and moved on, and Wallthorpe held no further power over her. She refused to allow him control, even in death. So, with a brutal will to live, she pushed the fear back down, where she locked it away, and focused on the part of her that relished the idea of giving control to Wolf. He’d proven to be everything she could have desired in a lover: commanding, confident, evenhanded, and determined to ensure her pleasure along the way.
She had nothing to fear from him—except possibly losing her heart a second time. Could she trust him? Did she? She had once before, and the man had abandoned her. But things were different now. Weren’t they?
She swallowed, licked her lips, and grabbed on to her courage. “Yes.”
She didn’t know if she was answering her own question or his, but the result was the same. Merely saying the word unlocked a familiar warmth within her, which chased away all the darkness and fear thoughts of her dead husband had summoned. She wrapped herself in the certain knowledge that despite everything, she wanted to trust Wolf. It was a truth that ran deep within her core, and it calmed her inner monologue.
He paused a moment and absorbed her words. His eyes closed, and then a true smile stretched his sensuous lips. “Thank you.”
His simple acknowledgement caused her heart to squeeze, and smothered the last of any thoughts about her dead husband. Now there was only Wolf and her.
He crossed to her and pressed against her back, his heat easily penetrating the thin silk of her robe. She relished the warmth and the feeling of safety that always accompanied having him near. With a gentle touch, he stroked down her shoulder, and then wrapped his arm around her stomach. With his right hand, he tipped her head to the right and dragged his lips the length of her neck. Along the way, he stopped to kiss and nibble her sensitive flesh.
Need shifted beneath her skin, a slight ripple of sensual awareness. He caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth and tugged, causing her body to slowly come awake. Then he whispered, “I need you, Jules. I need you to take this ache away, to let me make you feel so good that you’ll scream my name as you come.”
A full-body shiver sliced through her as he reached up and cupped her breast in his hand. Then he brushed her pebbled nipple through the silk, heightening the sensation. He continued to caress her tip until the hard buds poked out through the fabric. With a firm—but not cruel—pressure, he squeezed one tip between his thumb and forefinger, and then rolled the point. A low moan escaped her as her head fell back against his shoulder. She reached behind and gripped his thighs, desperate for purchase as her legs turned rubbery with desire.
“I’m yours. Use me however you need.Make me scream.”
The rumble of his chuckle vibrated against her, adding to the maelstrom of lust that he had whipped up with a few strategic caresses.
“On the bed, and drop your robe on the way.”
Determined to tease him as much as possible, she slowly untied her robe as she walked to the bed. About halfway there, she let one side slip from her shoulder. She took a few more steps, and allowed the other side to drop, exposing her bare back to him. Finally, as she approached the bed, she let the silk waft from her fingertips and down to the floor. Bared to him, she crawled onto the mattress, into the center, where she reclined on one hip, with her legs crooked to the side.
“Mmmm… Very nice.”
He stripped off his coat and walked toward her. His trousers already bulged, revealing his aroused state, yet he made no motion to remove the rest of his clothing.
