Wolfsgate by Cat Porter Page B

accepting his attentions and requested my letters be returned. They were, and I destroyed them and returned his letters to me. I avoided Andrew after that, in fact, I rarely left the house in all that time. He has been traveling on the Continent since then from what I understand. This is the first I have seen him since…since all of that.” She inhaled a short breath through her pale lips.
    Attentions.
    Letters.
    Destroying.
    Avoiding.
    The words whirled through his fried brain from the second they left her sweet mouth. Andrew had left England for an extended tour of the Continent? Apparently, he had not taken the rejection lightly. Blakelock had loved her all right, and from what he had just witnessed, he loved her still.
    “And then you and I were married.” Justine’s strained voice sheared through his haze.
    The fingers of his one hand traced a trail up the side of her soft throat. Her pulse drummed under his fingers, her uneasy gaze pinned on his. He was making her anxious, uncomfortable, apprehensive of his next reaction. This delicate, sweet creature who was pulsing with life should belong to a kind, blond boy like Andrew Blakelock.
    As children Blakelock had always had a special affection for Justine and Annie. He would insist on including the younger girls in their games and would take the time to entertain them by making silly drawings of animals or caricatures of people they knew. Oftentimes he stole sweets from the dessert trays in the kitchen for the girls when they hadn’t been allowed downstairs during a dinner party.
    After Annie’s death, if William went too far in his perpetual annoyance with Justine, Andrew would step in and come to her defense, and then Brandon would chastise William for overreacting. Andrew would pull the girl out of William’s way and send her off in the opposite direction, often following her himself. Amanda, not one for confrontations, never paid much attention and tended to drift away during these incidents. Before leaving the room, Justine would often look up at Brandon and Andrew with her soft, brown eyes, a slow smile lighting her face, then turn and run off. No pouting self-pity, just delight and genuine gratitude would shine in that innocent face.
    Yes, he was not for a girl like her; he was ill, used up, a strain. His existence had robbed her of her ideal knight in shining armor. Here she was putting on a brave face for him and for Andrew.
    Even now he could still feel her heart beating through his chest from when he had held her tight in his arms last night, when he acted like an animal in heat. Justine hadn’t pulled away from him, though. She hadn’t shown any disgust. She had tensed up for a brief moment, but then she had opened to him, and he had drowned himself in her. Her innocent, breathy noises had cut through his selfish, libidinous fog and made his release all the sweeter, in fact, the memory of them was making him hard right this very minute.
    The lavender from the soap she had used in her hair still lingered, just like the sensation of her full breasts and hardened nipples pressing against his chest. A thousand currents had roared through his veins straight to his demanding cock which had flourished under her tight grip. When she had groaned his name with her neck arched back against his shoulder, her softness melting around him, that’s when he’d spent himself. He hadn’t even seen to her pleasure, imagine when…
    Had he been dreaming? Was last night real? Did she truly feel that good in his arms?
    The desperate need to taste her again erupted within him. His hands wrapped firmly around her neck, and he drew her to him. She let out a soft gasp as his mouth crushed hers, his tongue sliding between her full lips. Her hands pressed into his chest, pushing their bodies slightly apart. Her beautiful brown eyes searched his, as his thumb stroked her now swollen lower lip.
    He hadn’t been dreaming. She bloody well felt amazing.
    The thought of Justine