Page 36 of Wolfsbane Hall #1

Dean’s Private Study

Dean said nothing. Nothing . Once again. He was calamity-made flesh, and the tension in the room was suffocating her worse than Lorraine’s hands had. And she didn’t know why having him say something—having him affirm her—meant so much, but it did, and he wasn’t giving anything.

Of course, he wasn’t. He hated her. A tear leaked from her face, followed by another, until a cascade of them fell. Her tongue grew heavy, and she refused to say another word.

He could have her tears, but she’d give him no more secrets—not that her secrets were worth anything to begin with. She was foolish to think someone would actually want them or even cherish them.

Dean cleared his throat, reached out, and wiped a tear, then another, and another away. In the process, his legs slid in next to hers, kissing them.

“I am not good with words or comfort,” he said in a low baritone.

“And I can’t promise not to leave you, since I stand by my earlier statement that you should get as far away from here as possible, as far away from my family, and especially me, while you can.

” He paused and scooped up another tear with his thumb.

“I know you deserve someone to choose you.”

Celestine lifted her head, and her gaze locked on his. “Dean.” It was only a breath.

Her heart thrummed in her chest as he leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. “We are only devastated by you.” Then he kissed her forehead and leaned back, giving them space once more.

“Holy hell.” Everett’s energetic voice was followed closely by James’s deeply methodical tones. “I wondered when you’d finally give in.”

Dean cleared his throat and caught his brothers’ gazes, one after the other. “I was merely comforting her.”

“Sure,” Everett said disbelievingly.

The side of James’s mouth quirked upward. “Well, perhaps it is my turn to comfort her, then.” He strode over to her, his hands in his pockets, and he looked like midnight sins coming to roost.

Dean nodded. “As you should.” He stood, and without another word, he disappeared from the room.

He literally disappeared into thin air.

“Ah, we’re no longer pretending we can’t do that,” Everett said with a jungle-cat grin.

“There’s no use when she knows we’re not normal,” James said. “You can thank your mother for that.”

“What are you?” Celestine’s voice was still so pained and raw. It felt horrible to talk, and whispering hurt more.

“We can’t tell you that yet, my love.” James sat next to her and pulled her into his lap. His fingers examined the bruises forming all over her body. “I am going to kill her…again. But this time, I get the knife.”

“Only problem is she won’t stay dead.” Everett loosed an exasperated sigh. “Trust us, if we had figured out how to keep her dead, we would have done it long ago.”

“Everett.” James glared at his brother, the look so dark, it made Celestine shiver.

“Ah, yes,” he cleared his throat. “Well, I see that you are okay, my sweet Cece, so I am going to go…examine my cufflinks. It’s a very important job, that.”

“Vital,” James agreed, and turned the force of his attention back to Celestine. A seething anger like she’d never seen before painted his face. “No one hurts what is mine.”

“Am I yours?”

“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, but Celestine 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 ne eded 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, your distraction.” Her center was pulsing, needy, and it must be fed, but it wouldn’t if James thought she was fragile, breakable. “I need you in me, not coddling me.”

His expression was mangled.

“Please,” she said again, begging.

He gave her a chilling side-eye. “I won’t damage you any further, Celestine. You almost died.”

“I didn’t.”

“And you’re a wanton little liar.” He smirked.

“James, I will always be breakable. It’s a part of who I am.”

“I know,” he growled again. Crimson desire spiked in his eyes. “Trust me, all I want to do is fuck you. But I don’t break my experiments when they’re teetering on the edge, and I won’t break you.”

“Then don’t fuck me.” A seductive expression climbed her lips. “Be creative.” She spread her legs wide, exposing her naked folds.

“God, you will be the death of me.” But his smile widened, his hands dug into her thighs, and he began to kneel.

One of his hands slid up her stomach, and he pushed her down so that her back would rest on the table. Billiard balls rolled across the table with sharp clinking sounds as they hit one another. James lifted her legs over his shoulders.

“You’re so wet for me.” He glided his fingers through her slickness and thrust one inside, and she nearly came from that mere touch.

“More,” she whimpered.

He obliged and thrust a second finger into her then leaned in and circled her clitoris with a talented, smooth stroke.

“Oh, fuck.” She bit her bottom lip and rolled her head back, accidentally hitting another billiard ball.

Fire erupted everywhere his tongue touched her. Celestine’s hand reached out and stretched through his silky hair.

“I think you’re enjoying these ministrations. ”

Celestine whined at the absence of his tongue, and he chuckled as she pushed his head back down. The sensations he coaxed and the way his hands and tongue moved were like magic.

“I-I am… Oh my God.” Her eyes rolled backward, and his fingers curled into that magic spot, and she came apart completely, screaming at the wallpapered ceiling.