The musky scent of Mr. Bordeaux wafts between us in the silence, an insurmountable wall that failed to disappear with the exit of my keeper. Rubbing the ache from my jaw, I avoid Liam’s stricken expression.
“What happened?” He reaches for me, and my first instinct is to push him away.
“Don’t. He’s all over me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He came on my face.”
With a shaky breath, Liam slides a hand along my cheek, unmindful of another man’s claim on my skin. “It’s no secret I have to share you.” He runs a thumb across my lower lip. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“There’s that phrase again.” His fingers graze the leftover stickiness on my cheek. “Did he hurt you?”
Only my pride.
“He humiliated me,” I say instead, remembering how he hauled me through the estate by the chain latched to my tongue. My only comfort is that no one else witnessed the degrading parade.
“Are you going to tell me why he punished you?”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
He frowns. “Is this an issue of futility?”
It’s an issue of me wanting to keep my tongue.
“Tattling will only get me into more trouble. It’s over now.”
A tick goes off in Liam’s jaw. “Do you believe you deserved what he did?”
“He’s not like you, Liam. When you punish, you do it with compassion. What he did…no one deserves that.”
“Then don’t let shame rule your emotions, Novalee. You have no control over how the Brotherhood treats you.” Slowly, he backs me toward the door until my spine meets the wood. “Just like you can’t stop me from kissing the hell out of you right now.” Stepping forward, he closes the last few inches, bringing our bodies flush with each other.
“Isn’t this against the rules?” I meet his gaze, reeled in by the lure of those deep umber depths.
“He gave me permission to kiss you, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
I lift a finger to his descending mouth. “Please don’t.”
“Why, my sweet girl?”
“Because I’m a mess.”
“His scent isn’t a claim on you, but my mouth will be, and I’ll be damned if I let him ruin this moment.” His lips silence any further protest, his tongue seeking entrance, and I forget all about Mr. Bordeaux and his rules. The monster’s ejaculation on my face ceases to matter when Liam kisses me like this—with ardent urgency, his lips possessive and tongue combative, pummeling me into sweet surrender.
Clutching the lapels of his jacket, I groan into his mouth. “Please,” I breathe against his lips.
“What are you pleading for?”
“Don’t make me go back to him.” Inching away, I meet his eyes. “Let’s run away. I know you have the means, and I have money in a trust my uncle can’t touch. It’s mine when I turn twenty-one. We can have a life together.”
Framing my face between his hands, he gives me a sad smile. “This is my home.” With a hard swallow, he lets a beat pass. “It’s my duty to carry out my family’s legacy. But I can offer you a promise,” he says, entwining our fingers. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we have a life together.”
“How can you be so confident?”
“I have faith.”
“I don’t know if I can make it through the next several months. I’ve still got two weeks with Mr. Bordeaux, and in September, Pax will have his turn.”
He winces, as if he knows exactly what I’m talking about, because it’s obvious the keeper of the dungeon is a psychotic sadist.
“Pax won’t be a problem.”
“How can you say that? You have limited power as the chancellor, remember?”
“I’m aware of my finite capabilities, but my brothers often underestimate me. I need you to trust me on this. Can you do that?”
“I can try.”
“It’s a start,” he murmurs, grabbing my hand and pulling me further into the library. I spot a game of chess on the table where, six weeks ago, a contract awarding my life to the Brotherhood awaited my uncle’s signature.
That first day within these walls seems like a lifetime ago.
“I’ll give you the first move,” he says, gesturing toward the side with the white pieces.
I slide into the seat, and after he settles in across from me, I push a pawn forward. “Ladies first, is that it? We both know you’re going to win.”
“How about I let you have this one so I can get back to worshipping your mouth?” He follows my lead and moves a pawn, but his attention stalls on my lips.
My heart skips a beat. “That sounds tempting, but when the day comes that I do beat you, I don’t want there to be any question of your defeat.” I slide a bishop out, eyes locked on his from across the table.
“I can respect that.” A grin threatens at the corner of his lips.
Several moments sneak by as he contemplates his next move, and my mind wanders to what I saw in Mr. Bordeaux’s private quarters. My keeper’s relationship with Loren is something he’s obviously hiding, but is it because he’s protecting himself, or the manservant?
And from who? His parents?
Sebastian admitted he’s under a lot of pressure from his family to marry me, and I imagine that is also true for the other members of the Brotherhood. Is that why Mr. Bordeaux wants to win the auction?
Because he needs a wife to cover the truth?
“The wheels are spinning over there, but I highly doubt you have chess on the mind.” Liam shoots me a speculative look as he pushes another pawn forward.
“I was just wondering about your parents,” I say, sticking with part of the truth, at least. “I’ve met none of the Brotherhood’s family, other than your father when I was twelve. Do they ever come to the estate to visit?”
“Not during the first year. The new Brotherhood needs time to settle in without the influence of legacy members. I guess you might call their absence a tradition.”
“So you don’t see your parents at all?”
“Not until after the auction, but we do keep in contact via phone and email.”
“You must miss your family.” A pang shoots through my chest, and I suck in a breath and hold it for several seconds to staunch the ache threatening to creep in. “A day doesn’t pass that I don’t miss my parents.”
His expression softens, the furrow between his brows smoothing out in sympathy. “I don’t think I ever told you how sorry I am for what happened to your parents. You were so young.”
“I miss them.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Sometimes I think I see them—my mother, especially. It happens at odd times. I’ll come around a corner and think I see her sitting at the kitchen table, scribbling in her journal and sampling the baked goods the chef made for the day. Other times, I can almost imagine my father behind his desk, papers piled high in front of him.”
“They’ll always be with you, Novalee.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand, and I wonder if that simple gesture of comfort and companionship go against the rules. As his warm fingers entwine with mine, I can’t bring myself to care.
If I could visit Faye or Elise, they would hug me and offer their shoulders to lean on. But they aren’t here. Liam is, and he cares enough about me to want to give comfort. If I didn’t love him before, I do now.
“Your move, my sweet girl.” Giving one last squeeze of my hand, he lets go, and my attention returns to the board.
But my heart isn’t into winning. Because he’s right—the sooner the game’s over, the sooner I can feel his mouth on mine again. Recklessly, I move my queen into the path of his castle.
Liam shakes his head. “I thought you wanted a fair game?”
“I guess I want you to kiss me more.”
His hand halts above the conquering piece, and he watches me intently, his hot gaze an ember that flares brighter than the sun. The rope of tension snaps between us. Abandoning the game, he scoots his chair back with a crook of his finger.
I round the table, and he reaches for me—or I reach for him. All I know is I’m in heaven astride his lap, knees tucked on either side of his hips as our mouths fuse. He groans into the kiss, his cock expanding between us, hard and long against the zipper of his slacks.
“When I get inside you for the first time,” he says, burying his face in my shoulder, “I’ll never want to leave.”
My core clenches, hot and snug against his cock, and I grind against him to inspire that gruff sound in the back of his throat again.
“Jesus, Novalee. We’re crossing a line here. You need to get up.”
“No.” I infuse my tone with pure defiance, tilting my hips once more, and he groans again.
“You think you can defy me because I can’t lay my hand on your ass? Is that it?”
“I want your hand on my ass.”
“You know it’s not allowed. But I can still punish you.” He yanks my hair, pulling my head back until our eyes meet. “I can cancel our next visit.”
“No!” I scramble off his lap, hurt that he’d even think to do that.
He rises with a glint of predatory glee and stalks toward me. “You think you don’t have to obey me because you belong to him for the month?”
“I…Liam, no.”
He takes me by the chin, his fingers gentle. “You’re still mine as much as you are his, so the next time I tell you to remove your tempting little body from the vicinity of my cock, do not tell me no.”
My gaze falls to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.” He presses his lips to mine, lingering with urgency. “Our time is up, my sweet girl. It’s time for me to escort you back to your quarters.”