Page 72 of Wolfsbane Hall
“Always.”
It wasn’t love. It was possession—obsession, and she didn’t know how to feel about it. But she didn’t mind.
“I’m sorry I let Margot kill you earlier.” Her nails bit her palms.
“Oh, my sweet Cellie. I know that wasn’t you.” He ran a finger lightly over her wrecked neck. It was sweet. James was only ever soft with her. No one else. And when he cast the weight of his attention on her, there was no one else in the world. No one could hurt her or cause her pain. He was her protector.
“I’m okay, James.”
“No, you’re not.” His voice was silky like butterfly wings. “And I hate that I wasn’t there to protect you.” He kissed her cheek.
“You can’t always be there.” Celestine swallowed, and pain spiked through her throat. She winced.
His gaze darkened. “I am going to tie her up and torture her over and over and over. Maybe I can’t kill her, but I hurt her. I can make her pay for this.”
“I don’t want you to make her pay.” It was a lie. A big part of her very much did want him to make Lorraine pay, butCelestine was over the violence. She was over the games. “Just help me take my mind off it.”
Heat sparked in his gaze. “I would like to fuck you on my eldest brother’s prized couch, but you’re far too broken for that—and he’d probably torment me for days for it.” He stood with her still on his lap, scooping her up in his arms like she was weightless. He always acted like a Hollywood movie hero. “But perhaps I can try to kiss some of these wounds better.”
“James, I can walk.” She shook her head, but she enjoyed it when he got like this. She loved both his domineering and softer sides. That was what was fun about him. He could be both.
“I know, but why should you?”
He carried her to the billiard room, still cradling her. He kicked open the door with one leg, walked her over, and placed her down on the billiard table, his legs straddling hers.
James shrugged off his jacket. “I haven’t gotten to see you all night.” He cupped her face far more gently than normal.
“I did kill you.” She laughed. “That was technically seeing me.”And we fucked in a corner…
“Oh, shut your trap, my love.” He ran his thumb over her mouth. “Actually, on second thought, open it for me.” He tipped her chin back and gently touched his lips to hers. “I am sorry about tonight,” he said against her lips. “About the Phantom, the Specter, all of it.
He made it sound like he was responsible for part, if not all, of it…although that wasn’t possible. The Specter and the Phantom were definitely different people. But she couldn’t think long about that, because he pulled her deeper into a kiss without letting her respond. James comforted with his body, with passion. Never words. He didn’t like long stories or feelings And sometimes, all Celestine needed was the physical. She needed to forget about her troubles, forget about the Specter and the Phantom.
“Let me know if it’s too much,” he breathed into her. “Let me know if you need a break, because I don’t want to hurt you.”
She nodded and moaned into his mouth. Her throat was on fire, but maybe, just maybe, he could distract her from it.
He smiled into her lips and used his tongue like he was apologizing for something. Wetness gathered between her legs, and Celestine whimpered as James knotted his fingers into her hair. All she wanted was him. He invaded all her senses.
His fingers stroked over her neck, moving the sleeves of her dress down. But when they caught on her shoulders, he ripped the dress off completely. He growled when he was still met with her bra, so he tore that off, too, and her breasts bounced free.
Taking her breasts into his hands, he deepened the kiss. She gasped into his mouth when he flicked her nipple and circled it with his thumb.
“Oh, God, yes,” she moaned. “I want more.”
James tasted of champagne and unfiltered lust, and he smelled like a mix of dry cedar, black tea, and comfort.
Celestine’s body trembled, and she tried to pull him closer, take him deeper, but she tilted her neck just slightly and caused pain to spike through her entire body. She flinched, and James immediately removed his lips from hers.
He shook his head. “You’re too hurt for this.”
“No,” she pleaded, but it came out far more like a croak.
“Cellie, it’s in your voice.” He leaned his forehead on her head and let out a low growl. “We can’t do this.”
“Please, I need this distraction,yourdistraction.” Her center was pulsing, needy, and it must be fed, but it wouldn’t ifJames thought she was fragile, breakable. “I need you in me, not coddling me.”
His expression was mangled.
