Beautiful Things: Second Sons Book One
Beautiful Things: Chapter 50

“Burke,” Rosalie said again, her heart hammering in her chest.

Renley turned to face him as he approached. He put up a hand, as if readying to block a hit. “Burke—wait—”

Burke growled deep in his throat, eyes only for Rosalie. The heat of his gaze stole her breath away. His eyes were obsidian. No grey. No storms. He was the storm. He pushed past Renley, his hands cupping her face as he backed her against the closest tree.

“Say it,” he said, voice deep with longing.

Renley put his hand on Burke’s shoulder, ready to pull him off. “Burke, don’t—”

Burke tensed, eyes still locked on Rosalie. “Christ, Rosalie, say it.”

She knew what he wanted. She wanted the same thing. She’d been aching for it since that first kiss. Could she dare say the words in front of Renley? He was standing right there, ready to step in, ready to protect her. His kiss was still fresh on her lips. Oh god, he would see…but some dark part of her wanted him to see, wanted them both to understand how she felt.

She lifted her chin, looking into Burke’s eyes, and whispered the words that would send her straight to hell. “Burke, will you please kiss me—”

The words were hardly spoken, and he descended. It wasn’t the sweet, rainswept kiss she shared with Renley. She burned molten as Burke claimed her, holding tight to her face with both hands as his tongue forced its way deep into her mouth. Her core clenched and she went boneless in his arms, clinging to him.

“Fuck,” she heard someone groan. It had to be Renley, for Burke’s mouth was occupied with stealing all her air.

As soon as it had begun, Burke pulled away, both of them panting. She sank against the tree, too embarrassed to look over Burke’s shoulder and see Renley’s hurt face.

Burke leaned against the tree, caging her in with his arm. “Look at me,” he murmured.

It was then Rosalie realized she had lowered her face, using her bonnet as a shield. Slowly, she lifted her face, knowing her cheeks must be blazing with desire…and shame. She looked first at Burke, who’s eyes were still obsidian. Then she let her gaze drift to Renley. He was standing there, soaking wet, his shoulders rising and falling as he stared at her.

Burke cupped her face. “You want me.”

Trust the rain to wash away all artifice. “Yes,” she whispered, putting everything she felt into the word.

“This is real.” His fingers trailed down her jaw.

She shivered at the touch. “Yes,” she repeated. Of course, it was real. Burke was the fire in her blood. He was her twin soul longing to fly free. She wanted him like she wanted air. She thought he might kiss her again, but instead he put a hand on Renley’s shoulder. Renley stiffened, but he didn’t jerk away.

“You want him too…don’t you?”

She saw the confusion in Renley’s eyes, the curiosity, the stifled hope. He’d been burned once before. The scars of that love were still so raw. She couldn’t bear to hurt him. “Yes,” she whispered. “To earn his friendship would mean everything to me.”

“Show him.”

She glanced from one man to the other.

Renley looked just as confused. “Burke, what are you—”

“Show him the kind of friend you want him to be,” Burke pressed. “Here in these woods, with no one else to see, show us how we make you feel.”

She gasped. Apparently, Burke was happy to burn in hell with her. Would Renley join them? Only one way to replace out. Burke stepped back as she moved into Renley’s arms. She lifted both hands, running them up his lapels. She rose on her toes, pressing closer. Renley’s eyes were wide, his perfect lips parted in surprise.

“Stay in this dream with me,” she whispered, touching her lips to his with a featherlight kiss.

He was still for another half a second, his entire body coiled with tension, until he murmured the words that made her moan. “Never to wake.” He claimed her mouth in another heated kiss. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight as he left all hesitation behind.

Rosalie couldn’t quite believe her luck. She knew logically that not all men must be good kissers. Sir Andrew, for example, with his bushy moustache and thick lips must surely kiss like a horse. How spoiled she was that both Burke and Renley were divine. Burke’s kisses felt like fire, a molten heat that burned across every inch of her skin. Renley’s kisses went deeper. Like a dam bursting, she felt a flood of desire cascading through her.

Renley’s mouth slanted over hers and she sighed against him.

“Fuck,” came Burke’s curse.

He was watching everything, close enough to touch. Her core clenched as she remembered the feel of his fingers so deep inside her, claiming her release. But then Renley bit down on her lip, sucking it into his mouth, and she whimpered, all thoughts back on him. She stepped backwards, seeking the bracing comfort of the tree, but Burke was there instead, his hands on her hips.

Renley pulled away with a groan. “Bloody hell, you kiss like a goddess,” he panted. “How will I ever stop?” he added, almost to himself.

“She’s a siren,” Burke murmured, stroking her neck with his fingertips, his breath hot against her skin. “She’s perfect.”

Rosalie beamed with feminine pride. It was one thing to know Burke and Renley were masterful kissers. It was quite another to hear praise that she too was accomplished. She barely had a moment to catch her breath before Burke was turning her, his hands tight on her hips. She gasped as his mouth caught hers, his tongue warm and seeking. She trembled, clinging to his coat, even as her back pressed against Renley.

Renley’s hands slid up her sides as he pulled her body flush against his. She felt the tightness of his muscled chest, the rise and fall of his every breath. He lowered his head until his breath was warm on her neck, even while Burke feverishly claimed her mouth.

Oh god, they were both going to kiss her. She wanted their lips on her, claiming her, setting her on fire. She leaned into Burke’s kiss as she twisted slightly, bringing one hand around to tug Renley’s coat, desperate to feel him closer. Renley latched on to her neck, the heat of his mouth sending a jolt straight to her core. She moaned into Burke’s mouth. When Renley’s teeth scraped her skin, she cried out, breaking Burke’s kiss.

Renley pulled away too and she stood there, shaking like a leaf between them, her hands clutching tight to each of their coats. Burke lowered his forehead to her shoulder, panting with need. Renley seemed dazed, his eyes unfocused as he looked at her. The rain continued to patter down all around them.

“Rosalie,” Burke began after a moment, his voice gruff. “I have to know…what do you want? You don’t want marriage. I’m clearly not enough.”

The pain in his voice had her turning, both hands raising to cup his beautiful face. “It’s not like that. Not for me. There is no enough. I feel what my heart tells me to feel.”

His large hands wrapped around her wrists as she stroked his face with her fingers.

“I want you so badly,” she whispered. “I want you.” She kissed him again, her lips barely touching his. “I want you.” She felt him sigh with relief against her lips.

She turned slightly to look at Renley. “Everything with you has been so confusing because of Marianne. Your love for her seems so genuine, so all-consuming. I’m afraid to trust you. Afraid you could never care for me like you do her—”

“Don’t.” He pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. “Don’t compare yourself to her. Don’t think of her at all.” He lifted his head to meet her eyes. “You called this a dream, and maybe it is. Never in my life did I think I’d be standing in the rain with Burke kissing the same girl,” he said with a laugh. “But I’m here. I’m not asking for anything. If my friendship is all you seek, then you have it. Every kiss you give me is a gift I don’t deserve.”

“You do,” she tried to say, but he silenced her with his lips. When he pulled away, she was breathless. She could so easily get drunk off these men and their kisses.

“This is your dream, Rose,” he said, a smile tipping his lips. “What do you want?”

Her heart pounded in her chest as thunder rumbled overhead. What she wanted was indecent. It was sinful and…everything. “I want—”

CRACK.

A bolt of lightning flashed less than a hundred yards off, snapping into a tree and making all three of them jump. Rosalie clung to both their arms as the men laughed.

“Come on,” Burke said, taking her hand. “Let’s go back before God gets creative and smites us.” He tugged Rosalie forward, laughing as Renley followed.

Burke led the way across the soggy back gardens, as the storm raged overhead. He pulled open the door to the new wing, letting her and Renley pass through. She nearly slipped on the polished parquet floor. Renley caught her with a hand to her elbow.

Burke shut the door with a snap, calling the footman over. The poor lad looked at them with wide eyes. “Bates, be a good lad and run and fetch us some towels. The duchess won’t be pleased if we ruin her fine carpets.”

The footman nodded and ran off down the hall.

“Heavens, what must I look like,” Rosalie sighed, feeling every inch of her dress slicked to her body. Water dripped from her nape down her neck.

Burke towered beside her. “Listen, I bought us maybe three minutes.”

She blinked, confused, as she tried to make sense of his tone, the look in his eye. “Burke, what—”

“You have two choices, little siren.” He took a step closer, his heated gaze making her molten. He pointed down the hallway. “Walk that way, and Bates will meet you with a towel.”

She glanced quickly over at Renley, who was watching her with the interest of a hungry fox. She looked back at Burke. “Or?”

Burke smirked. “Or come with me.” He held out his hand, an open invitation in his eyes. She swallowed her whimper, desperate to say yes. Then he slayed her when he glanced at Renley and added, “Just know he’s coming too.”