An excerpt from Beyond the Valley by Destiny Blaine
The sun had just started to set when they all rode in two weeks after they'd departed. Jack took the horses immediately. "Now
Victoria, I don't want any lip from you tonight. You're staying
here with us."
Jonathan agreed. "We've already discussed this. Victoria will be
staying with us for some time."
Jack smiled. "Glad to hear it."
Victoria wheeled around quickly. "We never did anything of the sort!" She marched over to him fast. "Just because you knew my family doesn't give you the right to—"
Jonathan cut her off. "Jack, if you'll excuse us. We'll be in the main house when you finish here."
Jack beamed. "I hope it'll still be standing by the time I get up there."
Jonathan quickly led Victoria up the hill to his home. He pulled her by the wrist as she protested.
"Jonathan! Jonathan! Listen to me! A man cannot just drag a woman off to his house and demand that she stay. It isn't right! It isn't proper!" She screamed at him until they reached the porch. "I said let me go!"
Jonathan smiled down on her. "Fine. I'll let you go long enough to do this." His grin widened and he swooped down fast to pick her up. His left arm slid under her arms and his right cupped her legs.
"What are you doing? Put me down, dammit!" Her voice indicated outrage and her body seemed to defy it. She writhed under his touch and it happened on contact.
Her lips pursed to indicate a fit of pouting would soon follow. Jonathan kicked open the door and crossed over the threshold. He marched in the house and up the stairs. He made no mistake, it was a damn march.
"I said put me down!" She wiggled and fought against his hold.
"I plan to just as soon as I find the appropriate place." He smiled at her. "And if you aren't careful, I may do something more than put you down. I may just taste a bit of that anger for myself. It quite becomes you, love."
"What did you call me? Argh! Last chance to set me down!" She continued her rant.
He walked past his sister's room and straight into his own. Once there, he plopped her on the bed. Her eyes were wild.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She smacked at the mattress. Seething anger spilled from her eyes and her lips.
"Isn't it obvious?" He watched her with adamant curiosity, a grin forming across his lips.
"You want to f@$k me?" She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Watch your mouth, Victoria, and I won't tell you again. Ladies don't talk like tramps."
"Well, do you?" She further challenged. "Answer me! Damn you!" She pointed a slender finger at him.
He wanted nothing more than to take her little index finger and just suck it in between his lips. Nip and nibble it, just to ensure she knew what he held in store. He wanted her to work out the full equation and solve any inner problems in her devious head. Then, she would know beyond any reasonable doubt that he wanted her and he fully intended to have her.
Her eyes were fiery and her yelling became quite distraught.
Jonathan remained calm. "What you've kept under lock and key only belongs to one man. I can promise you one thing, I'm not going to take it unless it's mine to have."
Her gaze followed him across the room.
He sat down on a chair and began to tug at his boots, never making the effort to provide light for them and never bothering to watch her inner wars begin under hooded eyes, but he knew the battle brewed because he knew her type. Hell, he knew her mother and he witnessed enough nonsense between her parents when he lived with them. He fully expected more of the same. Like mother, like daughter. He mused at the obvious similarities.
The full moon seemed to light up the room and provide more than enough light for them both. Victoria wasn't sure what to do. That much was obvious. It could be felt in the air. The animosity and anxiety. The wanton need and the apprehension. It dominated and empowered the atmosphere.
She slowly stood and walked over to stand in front of him. "I'll have to think about your proposal." She turned to walk away.
Jonathan grabbed her by the waist and quickly pulled her to him.
With a grunt escaping her lungs, she looked up at him. "I assure you, Jonathan Woodwine, that you have a strong hand that can take care of the apparent need your body seems to have, you aren't going to use me for that purpose until I've had time to think about things."
"Darling," his voice oozed sweetness, mischief and, above all else, total sex appeal and confidence, "I appreciate your eloquent way of giving me permission to jack-off but the truth is, it just wouldn't be right."
"What the hell are you babbling about?" Her lips formed a tight line.
"If I used this hand—" He held up the one in front of her while the other continued to grip her around the waist, "To please myself," he softly growled with an apparent hunger for her that
shocked him as much as it likely scared her, "then it would be like committing adultery. No love, I have better options for it and better ways to please the one who I believe already belongs to me."
Before she knew what hit her, he wrapped his hand around her neck gently and pulled her into a simple, sweet kiss. It wasn't famished; it wasn't inspired by tongue and deep throat kissing, but instead just delicious, soft and sensual. Then, he released her, but barely.
"Go to my sister's room and make yourself at home. Clean up and dress for dinner, but tonight, I want you in my bed or else I'll go into town and find someone to take your place until you come to your senses." Jealousy raged through the room. It could be cut with a knife, just like the sexual tension.
He spoke with authority and he knew his words would warn off a challenge from her. He demanded her attention and her affection. She had little time to decide if she would meet his expectations—and she needed to understand he fully expected her to comply…