Beautiful Things: Second Sons Book One
Beautiful Things: Chapter 58

The gallery spun in a clash of laughing faces, flickering candles, and feathered headdresses. Rosalie needed air. She needed to scream. Both her men were openly enraptured with the attention of other women, not even caring if she saw. Not thinking of her at all.

Not your men. Never yours.

The cruel voice in her head was Olivia’s, taunting her like she did that day in Finchley. Rosalie asked them for no commitment. They were merely holding her to her word. She just had no idea it would hurt quite so much to watch it unfold before her eyes.

She swept down the gallery, looking for some quiet place to collect herself. Her room was two floors and a wing away. Too far. She took a sharp left, darting towards the door that led into the ensuite rooms. The duchess wouldn’t allow anyone in her private study tonight. The doors would be locked…but Rosalie knew where to replace the hidden key.

She pushed her way into the dark morning room, shutting the door with a snap. She leaned hard against it. The ball thrummed behind the door. Laughing voices, music, the press of people…his hands on her shoulders…his lips on her lips…

She choked back a frustrated sob. Not Rosalie’s shoulders. Not her lips. Burke accused her of throwing herself at Mr. Bray, and then he had to go and do the same. Was this all a game to him? Some kind of cruel retribution? And with Elizabeth of all people! That mewling, desperate, mean-spirited witch with copper curls, Rosalie hated her!

He is in love with you.

“No, he’s not,” she whispered to the empty room.

She panted, trying to regain control. Her stays were too tight. She was gasping for air. What was happening to her? She was behaving like a wronged wife with some higher claim on his affections. The reality was, she had nothing. No right to him, not even the moral high ground, for had he not watched her kiss Renley?

Her pulse quickened as heat flooded her core, leaving her clinging to the door. Oh yes, her body remembered the feel of Burke and Renley standing so close, the three of them sharing breath as the rain battered the trees overhead. She remembered the heat of their lips on her as they worshipped her. Both of them drinking of her mouth, their mingled tastes like ambrosia on her tongue. Nothing had ever felt so natural, so right.

She moaned. No, Burke had no complaints then.

The moan turned into a groan that sounded almost feral as she accepted the truth. She had no claim on him…but she wanted one. The realization made her shake. Burke was right, she was a temptress. It was cruel to want him to want only her…and Rosalie wasn’t cruel. She had to stop this. Had to let him go. No…she had to go. Alcott was his home, not hers. She couldn’t stay here and keep hurting him.

She pushed away from the door as she heard voices approach. Crossing the room, she pulled open the door to the music room. Silvery moonlight gave the room a soft glow. Behind her, the morning room door opened, the sounds from the ball echoing around.

“Rosalie—”

She stiffened and turned, dark eyes narrowed on the object of her obsession.

Burke shut the door, muting the sounds from the party. “Why did you run off just now? Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” His gaze feasted on her as he smirked. “Green is a good color on you, love.”

“Go away.” She spun on her heel and swept into the music room. Light from the moon elongated her shadow.

“Don’t walk away from me—”

“Don’t follow me!” She stomped over to the side table near the piano and reached for the key resting behind a small angel figurine. The music room door snapped shut and she heard the lock click into place. She jolted upright, key fisted tight in her hand.

“Unlock the door.”

He met her eyes with his steely gaze. “No. Not until I’ve had my say.”

That look sent heat racing to her core. She was still mad at him, right? He called her a whore, and then kissed another woman. She was definitely still mad.

He gave a dry laugh, dragging his hand through his hair. “Look, I know you saw me just now with Elizabeth—”

The man dared to laugh about it? She slapped the key back down on the table. “I don’t want to hear, and a gentleman wouldn’t discuss it.”

His smile fell. “Well, then it’s fortunate that I am no gentleman.”

“Truer words were never spoken!”

There was no way he’d let her escape, but at least the piano still stood between them. She had to keep it there, or she risked committing murder tonight. The duchess would never forgive her ruining a perfectly good carpet.

“You didn’t see what you think you saw,” he declared. “Elizabeth was drunk. She kissed me, and I rebuffed her. Go see her for yourself if you don’t believe me. I deposited her in Mariah’s arms as I saw you flee.”

The words registered, but Rosalie’s anger didn’t soften. “Why bother chasing after me? You made your position clear last night—”

“I did not make my position clear,” he snapped. “Rosalie, I spoke without thinking, and I hurt you. I swore to myself I’d not do it again…though I’ll admit, I’m enjoying this fit of jealousy immensely,” he added, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he inched closer.

She darted around the piano. “I’m not jealous.” Her cheeks flamed hot at the lie.

“Right…just like I wasn’t jealous when you had your tongue in Renley’s mouth.”

She gasped. “You—that’s not—same thing—”

“You’re right, it’s not the same thing,” Burke challenged. “You asked for Renley’s kiss. I didn’t ask for Elizabeth’s.”

Shame filled her. “Burke…” Tears stung her eyes as she wrapped her arms tight around herself. She’d never felt such turmoil, such deep and utter confusion. “It feels like I’m being torn to pieces. I don’t understand what’s happening to me…why am I’m feeling like this? Am I wicked?”

His gaze softened and he took a half-step closer. “I said I was jealous,” he repeated. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t like it. What you did with Renley…what we did…it wasn’t wrong. And you’re not cruel or wicked for wanting us both. I don’t blame you or judge. You’ve been open and honest from the start.”

She took a shaky breath. He didn’t know all of it. “I want no secrets between us…”

He raised a brow in question.

“James kissed me tonight,” she whispered, cheeks burning hotter with shame. “In the library.”

A shadow flickered in his eyes. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to hurt you—”

He shook his head. “The only way I can handle this is if I know everything. Tell me.”

“We were dancing and…we argued,” she began. “I asked him what he wanted, if he wanted me to leave Alcott. He kissed me and…Reed found us.”

“Shit,” he groaned, dragging his hand through his hair. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. James is going to let his confounded pride stand in the way as long as possible.”

“In the way of what?”

He scowled. “Of you, obviously. Of his feelings for you.”

“I’m just a passing infatuation,” she replied, still hearing James’ words echoing in her mind loud as a clanging bell. “He told me he doesn’t want me.”

“Right,” Burke scoffed. “Well, he lied.”

“He was quite forceful in his denouncement. He called me worse things than you did.”

His eyes heated again. “He’s a lord. They always say one thing and think another.”

She took a hesitant step forward, trying to read him. “You’re not…angry?”

He sighed, looking down at his feet. “I expected something to happen. Perhaps his timing was poor, but he’s had rather a lot on his mind.” He glanced up, eyes swirling. “But you should know I have no intention to fight his corner. It’s every man for himself.”

She couldn’t help herself when she replied, “You seemed content to help Renley the other day…”

“That was different. I didn’t know where we stood. I was afraid the only way to have you was to join in. I’d rather have a piece of you than nothing at all.”

“I’m glad you were there,” she whispered. “I’m glad it happened…are you? I mean, did you…”

“Did I like it?” He laughed. “Of course, I fucking liked it. I wouldn’t have let Tom touch you if I didn’t like watching what he did to you.”

Her core fluttered. Burke liked it too. Maybe he’d let it happen again…

“Listen” he said, stepping closer. “Whatever tension brews between Tom, James, and me, leave it to us to handle.”

“Burke, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” He raised a hand. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry. You stated your limits and asked me to respect them. I didn’t.”

Her shoulders sagged. She needed something between them, some barrier she could cling to besides her traitorous arms that longed to hold him.

“I’m covetous by nature,” he went on. “And loyal to a fault. But I demand that loyalty be returned. I could never love someone like Marianne Young, who would choose another.”

His look of rejection had her stepping forward. “But I didn’t choose—”

“I know,” he said. “At first I didn’t understand but…maybe your heart works differently. Or maybe it’s just the way James and Tom and I are together.” He groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “I thought our tastes in women were different, but perhaps the right one just hadn’t come along,” he finished with a shrug.

Could she really be hearing him say these words?

“I didn’t respect your terms before,” he went on. “I want to hear them again, and this time I promise to listen properly. Tell me what you want, Rosalie. Tell me what you’re willing to accept from me. Leave no room for misunderstanding.”

She took a deep breath. Once spoken, these words couldn’t be taken back. “I’m covetous by nature too,” she said, her gloved hand dusting the top of the piano. “You want my loyalty. My passion, my obsession. You want me basking in the warmth of your every look and touch,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“You call me siren,” she said with a soft smile, loving the feel of his eyes on her. “The name is fitting, for if you sail too close, I think I mean to claim you. I will snatch the soul from your chest. It will be mine…but I’ll not marry you. Any of you. I can’t relinquish that power. I want to be free, Burke. Let me be free, and I will freely choose to…to love you.”

The heat in his eyes flared as she said that four-letter word. She fought her smile. It was working. She was stripping his armor off piece by piece. She wanted to see him undone. She reached out a gloved hand, lightly stroking the lapel of his evening coat.

“I want you, Burke. I want every piece of you—your charm, your wit. I want your moods and your melancholy, your every infuriating smirk.” She glanced up, meeting his eye. “Do you want me?”

He snatched her wrist, holding it tight. “I want you so badly, I can hardly breathe. From the first moment I touched you in that pub, and every moment since.” His voice was warm with need. “I never had much need for the church and now I know why.” He tilted his head down, resting his forehead against hers. “You are my goddess,” he murmured, brushing his lips lightly against her brow. “I worship only you. Claim me, ruin me, own me. I don’t fucking care.”

She closed her eyes and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Her hands slid over his shoulders. “I know it’s not fair, but the siren in me won’t let me stay silent,” she whispered. “I am too jealous to stand the idea of you with another woman.”

He kissed her forehead, her temple. “Your jealousy is a relief, but unnecessary. I only want you.”

Those words melted through her core. She took a shaky breath, meeting his gaze. “And…what of your jealousy?”

He frowned. “I meant what I said. Sharing doesn’t come naturally to me. I won’t pretend it will be easy…but I’m fine with Tom. And if James ever pulls the stick out of his arse, I’d be fine with him too. But no one else,” he added, his voice edged with iron as he cupped her face. “I will not contemplate sharing you outside the three of us. Ask it of me, and the man in question will be a dead man.”

She smiled, secretly loving the threat of violence. Feeling daring, she stepped out of his embrace. He raised a brow in curiosity but let her go. She backed away, feeling his stormy eyes follow her as she pressed against the piano. Pulse racing, she raised her hand and slowly pulled off her long, white gloves. First one, then the other. “I’m offering myself to you. Every piece of me. Do you want to claim me, Burke?”

Burke groaned low in his throat. “Yes.”

Her lips parted as she dropped the gloves to the floor. “Well then…come take what is yours.”

He was on her in a second, their bodies pressed chest to chest as his hand wrapped around her nape, his fingers digging into her artful braids threaded with pearls. Their mouths collided in a hungry kiss. Her teeth clicked against his as they both moaned, seeking union with lips and tongues.

He pulled away and buried his face in her neck. His nose was pressed just beneath her ear as his lips brushed her skin. She took a breath too. His spiced currant scent filled her lungs, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her.

Remembering their fight in the library, she threaded her fingers in his hair and jerked his head back. He grunted as she angled her lips to whisper in his ear. “Hurt me with cruel words again, and I will horse whip you.”

“Ah—agreed,” he growled.

She relaxed her fingers, smoothing them through his hair with a gentle stroke. “Do not doubt my constancy. You are mine, Burke. I am your siren, and you hear only my call.”

He grabbed the lobe of her ear with his teeth and bit until she hissed. “Say it again.”

She licked his bottom lip before sucking it between her teeth. “You’re mine,” she repeated, feeling as his cock pulsed against her stomach. “My love…mine.”

His mouth covered hers, his tongue opening her deep. Using both hands, he released the clasps of her dress, letting the cornflower blue satin flutter to the floor. He didn’t bother unlacing her stays, he just jerked the top down, tearing her chemise as her breast spilled into his hand. He ducked his head, taking her in his mouth as she arched into him. He flicked her nipple with his tongue, sending a jolt like a whip of fire straight to her core. She moaned, both hands wrapping around his shoulders. He licked her again and she quivered. When he used his teeth, she thought her knees might give out.

He pulled the other side down, repeating his heated kisses until she was whimpering in his arms. His lips worked their way back up her neck, replaceing her mouth again. They drank of each other like two people dying of thirst, their moans mixing as she ran her palm over his hardness. He stiffened, pushing his hips into the pressure she offered.

“Burke, I want you,” she whined, rubbing her hand over his cock. “No more chivalry. I want to give you such pleasure. Please—”

His lips chased hers until she was arched backwards over the piano. One hand came down for support and the plink, plink of the disrupted keys made a discordant sound that echoed around the room. He pulled away, trembling and hungry for more. His hand dropped between her legs, and she rocked into his touch, heart fluttering as he raised her chemise.

“Are you wet for me?”

“Yes,” she panted. “Aching for you, dreaming of you, want you inside me—ah—”

He pressed a finger inside her. “I’m going to claim this sweet cunt. Only me.” His voice was a growl in her ear that had her clenching around his finger. “I want to taste you again. Then we’ll see what your tongue can do.”

She forgot to breathe as he lowered to his knees, rucking her chemise up over her hips.

“Hold this,” he said, taking her hands off his shoulders and making her hold the chemise around her waist. Her hands were barely settled before he was plunging two fingers insider her. Burke kissed up her thigh, spreading her sex open until she felt his mouth against her. He lapped with quick strokes. When he sucked, humming against her, she dropped her head back.

“Spread your legs,” he murmured.

She tried to shift, gasping as he lifted one of her legs, draping it over his shoulder. Now she was reliant on the piano for support, the sharp edge of it cutting into her back, but she didn’t care. Her knees trembled as he pressed his face back to her sex. The new angle was divine. “Burke—oh—god—”

Words lost all meaning as he worked her with fingers and tongue. She shuddered once…twice…nearly falling on him, but Burke caught her. Her core clenched around his fingers. A cry escaped her lips as she felt herself break apart. She clung to his shoulders as her body curled around him, needing his support.

He stumbled to his feet. “Rosalie,” he breathed her name like a prayer. “You taste divine. God, I want more. I want everything.”

“Take it,” she replied on a breath.

He lifted her chin to meet his eyes. “Say it again. Say what you want.”

“I want your cock.” Both hands went to his waist. “I want you inside me. Use me and love me and don’t hold back. I want you, Burke. No more holding back.”

“Rosalie—”

“Claim me, ruin me, own me—”

He snapped. One moment, she was half-leaning against the piano with her hands on the fastenings of his breeches, the next she was in his arms being carried to the sofa. He kissed her as he set her down, and then his hands were working fast, shedding himself of his evening coat and waistcoat. He untied his cravat, tossing it aside.

Rosalie watched, eyes wide with hunger.

“Stand up,” he directed, jerking his shirt off.

She rose on shaky legs, still not quite recovered from his attentions. She could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs as he stepped into her, his hands at his waist as he opened his breeches. He took her hand in his and slipped it inside.

“Touch me,” he rasped, dropping his forehead to hers. “Touch—fuck—”

She wrapped her hand around his cock, squeezing it softly as she slid her palm up the length to the tip of him and back down. Heavens, she knew he was big, but this was…she swallowed with nervous anticipation.

He groaned, his hands cupping her breasts as he fought against her stays. With a frustrated growl, he tugged at the laces, loosening them until she could breathe, and he could better access her breasts. As her hand stroked to his tip, he tweaked her nipple and she gasped.

“Want you so badly,” he murmured, kissing her neck, her shoulder. “So beautiful. You’re mine. My sweet siren.”

She kissed his lips, teasing him with her tongue as she gently pulled him out of his breeches. “Your siren is aching, Burke. Tend to me.”

He put both his hands on her shoulders and spun them around. Then he sank down onto the sofa, his cock still out. He leaned back slightly, a wicked smile on his face. “My siren is going to drop to her knees and take me in her mouth. Show me what that tongue can do.”

Her stomach flipped as she eagerly complied. He spread his legs, and she sank to the carpet, placing her hands on his thighs. He looked like a god, stretched shirtless before her, that sweep of black hair over his brow. He was fisting his cock slowly. She’d never done this before, but the method seemed easy enough to intuit.

Licking her lips, she reached out, taking over his slow stroking action. He groaned the moment her hand brushed his sensitive flesh. The length intimidated her, but she enjoyed a challenge. She bent forward and offered a teasing lick to the head.

He hissed and dropped both hands to her shoulders.

She licked him again, once, twice, enjoying his every reaction. Slowly she let her mouth experiment with sucking on the tip, while her hand kept stroking his length.

“Don’t tease me,” he panted, lowering his hands to grip the cushion of the sofa as his body tensed.

Was he holding back again? That simply wouldn’t do. She opened her mouth and sank deep onto him, only stopping when she felt him hit the back of her throat.

“Holy hell—”

She did it again.

“Don’t stop—”

When she grazed him ever so slightly with her teeth, he stiffened, his strong hands grabbing her by the arms. He lifted her up, sinking his tongue into her mouth for a deep kiss as they both groaned. He wrapped his hands around her waist, dragging her onto his lap, and tugged on her chemise, disentangling it from her legs. She still wore her stays like an open vest.

“Have you ever taken a cock like this?” he murmured, lowering his mouth over her breast while he cupped the other one.

“No,” she said on a gasp, loving the feel of his lips on her. Her hands smoothed over his bare shoulders.

“You’ll be the one in control of how much of me you take,” he explained. “I’m large, I don’t want to hurt you. Take your time and stop if it hurts. I’ll not come inside you.”

She nodded, her body a basket of butterflies as he tugged on her chemise, lifting her by the hips until she felt her hot, aching sex rubbing against his cock.

“Christ, you’ll be the death of me,” he groaned. “Your cunt is so wet.”

“Wait to die until after I finish you,” she said playfully, masking her nerves as she reached between her legs to angle his cock towards her soaking entrance. He braced her by the hips as she lifted up. How could he possibly fit inside her?

“Go easy,” he murmured.

She sank down until his cock was pressing at her entrance and they both groaned. She was too tight…or he was too large. It took her a few attempts and the position was awkward, but on the fourth time, something inside her gave and he sank in deeper.

“Ahh—Burke—” She said his name like an endearment and a curse, for to give him pleasure required her pain.

He held still, hardly breathing as she teased his tip inside her. She sank down a little more, feeling the fullness of him everywhere, stretching her out, calming the ache. “So good,” he muttered. “So tight. Want more—Christ—”

She smiled, triumphant as she took him another inch. Her core was adjusting to his size, and she wanted more too. She wanted him feral. She took his hands and put them on her breasts. “Burke…look at me.”

His palms squeezed her softly as he met her gaze.

Giving her best attempt at a siren’s smile, she took a breath and sank down hard, sheathing him. They both cried out, falling against each other’s mouths as she moved her hips, adjusting to this impossible fullness. He filled every part of her. She rocked her hips, learning how to move with him.

Burke’s hands went back to her hips, and he lifted her, keeping himself notched as he pulled her down hard. The sound of her wetness was obscene as he did it again. They both moaned, and Rosalie began to shake. With one hand, Burke lifted her chemise. “Do it again,” he muttered, leaning back.

She panted as she arched up, sliding off him several inches, then she sank back down.

“Look at how you take my cock. So beautiful.” He watched in the half light of the moon as she did it twice more, his wet length disappearing inside her. While he watched her, she watched him. His look of longing pierced her soul.

“I love you, Burke,” she whispered, letting herself feel each word. “I’ve never said those words to any man. I thought I couldn’t feel them. But from the moment we met, I—”

He swallowed her words, kissing her deeply. She gasped as he wrapped his arms around her and sank off the sofa. He dropped to his knees and turned, laying her down on the carpet. He pressed between her legs, the weight of his hips making her sigh with contentment. This is where he was always meant to be. She wanted—

“Oh god,” she cried out as he sheathed himself with a brutal thrust.

His hips held her in place as he moved again, sinking so deep, cracking her open. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes as he dropped his body over hers, his hot breath on her cheek, and slammed his hips into her again and again.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Don’t stop—”

“Come for me again, love. I feel you close. Come with me inside you. Have to feel it—” He lifted up enough to snake his hand between them. As he gave a few shallow thrusts, his fingers found that spot that made her melt. “Come again,” he growled, his voice a command.

She felt herself winding up tighter. The release she craved was so close. She shut her eyes, focusing on the points of joint pleasure—his cock buried so deep, his fingers stroking her. Burke. Her Burke. Loving her, claiming her.

She shattered. Her core clenched tight, aching to keep him buried deep forever. Warmth rolled through her that she felt all the way to her toes.

With a strangled groan, Burke pulled out. Warmth pooled over her stomach as he chased his own release. He sat back on his heels and looked down at her. She was splayed before him, her chemise rucked up around her ribs, stays open, his release on her stomach. She wanted to feel self-conscious, but the hungry look on his face erased her doubt.

“You’re mine.” He kissed her deeply. “I love you and I’m not going anywhere. I accept any terms you offer. I’ll take any piece of you.”

She pushed him back as she sat up. “You have all of me. Can you still doubt it?”

“No,” he replied, cupping her cheek. “Whatever else happens with James or Renley is your own business. I won’t stand in the way. I won’t help them either,” he added. “But this…you and me…this is settled.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Burke was hers. Burke loved her.

His eye fell down her again. “Now we’ve got to figure out how we make you presentable again. You look well and truly fucked, love.”

She glanced down. Oh, heaven help her, how was she going to face a house full of high society guests looking like this? Burke chuckled, a grin of satisfaction on his face to know he was to blame. There was only one solution. She shimmied out of her chemise and used it to clean herself off.

Burke dressed quickly, using the mirror above the mantle to tie his cravat. He caught her reflection and his eyes heated. She had abandoned the soiled chemise, replacing her stays without it. She stood next to him in nothing but her stockings and stays. “Don’t you dare laugh,” she muttered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his large hand stroking over her bare bottom. He dropped his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Seeing you like this makes me want to keep you in here. I’d bend you over the piano, just like I wanted to do the night we sang our duet.”

Her core quickened again, but she gave him a hard look. “That’s quite enough. We have to rejoin the party.”

He groaned. “Wouldn’t want to miss George’s big announcement.”

She checked her hair in the mirror. It wasn’t as bad as she thought. A few curls had come loose, but that could have happened while dancing.

“Help me with this.” She snatched her gown off the carpet and stepped into the blue satin, shimmying it up her body. With deft fingers, Burke sealed her in. He kissed the back of her neck, his lips lingering as his warm breath fanned over her skin.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, feeling the gooseflesh rise down her arms.

“Memorizing you,” he murmured. “I dream of this floral scent. It haunts me. Now go back through the morning room. I’ll pop out the window and circle round to the front of the house.”

“Take this with you.” She stuffed the wadded-up chemise in his hands. “Bury it in the yard, shove it in a bush. Anything.” She gave him one last kiss, which turned into two, then three.

He groaned, his hands tightening, until he reluctantly let her go.

She moved over to the piano to fetch her discarded gloves. She slipped them on as he watched. Remembering how they came to be in this room, she dropped her smile. “You’re mine, Burke. And since you are such a fan of my jealous nature, let me say this: if you so much as look at another woman tonight, I’ll cut off those traitorous fingers and feed them to the feral swans in the lake.”

His smile turned positively devilish. “Christ, get out of here before I bend you over this piano and fuck you til you scream.”

The image sent a thrill through her, and she smiled too. Then she turned away, flitting for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and glanced over her shoulder. Burke stood next to the piano, watching her leave. “I love you, Burke.”

His smile softened. “Rosalie Harrow, I love you to distraction. Now, go.”