Magnate (Acquisition 2)

“Beg me to sink myself so deep in you that you can’t tell where I end and you begin.”

“Don’t.” I breathed as he released my hair and pulled my sweater and the cup of my bra down.

I moaned—not a fake—when cool air hit my nipple, his mouth following close behind.

This was wrong. All wrong. I dug my fingers into his hair and pulled, but he sucked me in harder, his teeth grazing along the hard peak of my breast. He groaned into my skin and palmed my ass viciously, rubbing me against him in a slow, teasing rhythm.

“We can’t.” I sounded unsure even to myself.

He swirled his tongue once more around my nipple before coming back up and resting his forehead against mine, his hand on my cheek. “You’re already mine. I’m going to taste every bit of you. Every inch of skin. You’re going to take all of me, Stella, and beg for more. And I’ll give it. I’ll give it every time you ask and even when you don’t.”

His words buzzed around my mind like a swarm of bees, stinging me but with the promise of something sweet.

He leaned in to kiss me again but I pushed harder. I couldn’t do this. Not here. Not now. I wanted to snare him, but not with Vinemont a few doors down.

He gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head. “I know you want it, Stella. I know you want everything I have. If you say you don’t, you’re lying to yourself.” He brushed his lips against mine again, making me believe his lies. Were they lies?

“I could take you right now. I could yank your jeans down and feast on your sweet cunt.” He shoved his hips into me, his hard cock substantial in his pants. “I want to, Stella. Oh, how I want to.”

“Please, don’t. I-I can’t.” I was stumbling, falling, begging the wolf in front of me to catch me.

He stole another kiss, this one lingering. My heartbeat was like a drum in my ears as his tongue swirled against mine, teasing and tasting. He pulled my wrists down from the wall and wrapped them around my back at my waist, making my breasts jut out against him.

He kissed to my ear. “I’m going to take it all, Stella.”

“Never.” I tried to shake myself out of the haze he’d put me in.

His deep laugh was in my head as he nipped at my neck. “We’ll see.”

He pulled away and stared down at me, his eyes calculating. “I’ll give you a pass this one time, Stella. Just once. But the next time I get you alone and you try to tease me—” He grabbed my palm and ran it down his hard length “—you’re going to get all of this. And then you’re going to thank me when I’m done.”

He dropped my wrists and backed up another step. “Go,” he commanded, “before I change my mind.”

Stunned, I brushed past him and into the hallway. All the oxygen had been out here, not in the dining room where Lucius had made it impossible to think. I stumbled over the runner before gaining my feet and taking the next few steps. I pulled my top back into place as I fled. The doorbell stopped me. I turned and glimpsed a figure through the transom windows.

Lucius was already in the hallway, adjusting himself in his pants before striding to the door and swinging it open.

The visitor wore an old-fashioned servant’s livery—even stuffier than Farns’—who ambled up and shook his head at Lucius. The man handed Lucius a card, gave a perfunctory bow, and whirled on his heel.

“You shouldn’t get the door. That’s my job, Mr. Lucius,” Farns chided gently.

“I’ve gotten my hands dirty plenty over the last few days, Farns. Trust me. This is nothing.”

Vinemont appeared, his dark hair a tousled mess as if he’d been running his hands through it. He glanced up at me and quickly looked away. I felt a surge of guilt that I batted away. We weren’t together. We never would be. Seducing Lucius was part of the plan. Or was Lucius seducing me?

“What is it?” Vinemont’s voice was gruff.

“Invitation.” Lucius swiped his finger under the wax seal and broke it open before unfolding the parchment.

The brothers read it together as I walked to them, curiosity overcoming my shaken cocktail of emotions.

“Fuck!” Vinemont whirled and punched a hole in the foyer wall, plaster falling in a heap at his feet. I flinched and went to stand at Lucius’ elbow to get a better look.

Farns shook his head and scurried down the hallway, most likely for a dustpan and broom.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Cal wants us to come to his New Orleans house tomorrow night. Welcome party for some new family or something.” Lucius flipped the page over, as if searching for more writing on the empty back.