The Taming of the Wolf (21 page)

“I think I am.” The man was speaking in riddles, and her head was already spinning with the way his rough tongue abraded the sensitive tips of her breasts as he went back and forth, back and forth. “What should I do?”

“Nothing. You can be quiet so I can work.”

“Quiet? Ye want me ta be
quiet
?”

“Make all the noise you want, angel. But, please stop talking.” His hand ran down her belly and over her mound, where he pressed and rocked the heel of his hand against her as his fingers trailed through her heat.

“You can make a noise when I do this,” he said as he parted her folds and touched the center of her.

She gasped and rocked herself against him. She cried out when he moved his thumb across the nub that was her pleasure center, his mouth still devouring her breasts.

“Ye doona play fair.”

“Never said I did.” He raised his head briefly to respond.

“Out of yer trousers, Brimsworth,” she growled, the noise foreign to her own ears.

“As the lady wishes,” he breathed. Finally. Finally, he would ease this ache. Finally, he would take her and make her his.

When he came back to her, he eased her legs apart with his knee and then settled himself fully between her thighs. Something hot and hard pressed at her most secret place.

“I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you,” he breathed.

“Then take me, ye big wolf.”

“Witch,” he grunted when she ran her hand down his chest.

“Ye say that like it’s an insult.”

She could barely breathe the last word as he probed at her center, pressing at her insistently until she rocked back.

“That’s it, Caitie. Tell me when you’re ready.” He held himself above her, looking deeply into her eyes. His amber depths called to her.

“Make me yers,” she pleaded. Then he thrust himself fully inside her in one swift stroke. A brief moment of pain jolted her from her passion-filled haze.

“I love you, Caitie,” he said, his forehead touching hers as he breathed heavily in and out, in and out, remaining completely still within her. His fingers slipped between them so he could stoke the fire within her. Up, up, up she went. He began to move slowly within her, his slow strokes driving her mad, combined with the slow and steady movement of his fingers.

“Doona hold back,” she commanded, tugging harshly at his hair so he looked at her. “I want my beast,” she cried.

At her command, his strokes deepened, his rhythm increased, and his breaths blew harshly across her skin. He grunted, his arms sliding beneath her as he pressed farther and deeper than she ever would have expected. Up she went, farther and farther, the rhythm of her body matching his, thrust for thrust. Pressure for pressure. Pleasure for pleasure.

“Dash!” she cried when the passion swept over her in a sweet release, pushing her into the pleasure-filled promise she hadn’t even known would be there. He followed while she was still fluttering around him and then stilled so she could pull the last of his pleasure from him. He remained inside her for a moment, his weight heavy upon her. Right. Heavy and right.

Then he lifted his head and looked down upon her, wiping her hair from her sweaty brow. Her Lycan tried to be calm and complacent, but beneath it all, he was still a bit wild, and she would have him no other way.

“I doona ken what comes next. We do it again?” She giggled at the stricken look on his face.

He chuckled. “I’ll need just a moment, angel.”

Cait liked the sound of that, and she rested her head against his chest, reveling in the feel of his arms holding her tightly.

Dash rolled Caitrin beneath him and made love to her all over again. He tried to keep in mind that this was new for her and to be careful with her, but she had other plans. She begged him to take her harder and faster than before, and Dash needed all of his control to keep his wildness in check. If he hurt her, he’d never forgive himself.

His little witch finally seemed sated and dropped her head upon his chest. Dash pulled a blanket up over her to keep the chill off them during the night. Then he cradled Caitrin against him and released a sigh of relief as warmth spread over every part of him. He’d never have his fill of her. She was everything he’d ever wanted and more, all wrapped up in the prettiest bundle. “Try to sleep, angel.”

“Orderin’ me about again?” She covered a yawn with her delicate hand.

Dash chuckled. “I am your lord and master now, Caitrin.” She poked him in the side, and he laughed harder. “Besides, you’re going to need your strength tomorrow.”

“Oh?” She ran her delicate hand over his chest, making him hard all over again.

“Mmm,” he agreed, tightening his hold on her. “I may not let you out of bed for a sennight.”

Caitrin giggled softly. “We are no’ even in a bed, Dashiel.”

He smiled into the darkness as he watched her eyes flutter shut. “Good night, lass.”

Dash knew the minute she fell asleep, as her breathing became rhythmic and her body went limp against his. Tired as he was, Dash wasn’t able to nod off. He was too amazed at his good fortune. For the rest of his life, he’d get to make love to Caitrin and wake up every morning with her in his arms.

He’d never been responsible for anyone other than himself before. She was his, in every sense of the word. And every sigh she uttered, every breath she took, fascinated him. He didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

“Come home, Dashiel,” she whispered in her sleep, clutching him tighter.

But he was home. “Shhh, Caitie, I’m here.” He ran his hand over her back, soothing her.

When she relaxed, he glanced around Elspeth Westfield’s cottage. He wasn’t
home
exactly. But wherever Caitrin was, he’d be at her side, and he had a feeling that meant Edinburgh. Her life was here, and he couldn’t envision her leaving.

Dash sighed. He probably should locate a house for them as soon as possible. Accommodating as Angus Macleod was, Dash didn’t want to live with the man. But he didn’t know the city well enough to find a place himself. He’d have to hire a broker in the morning to start his search.

Caitrin’s heart began to race, distracting him from his thoughts. Then her breath came in quick spurts, and before Dash could respond, his wife bolted upright and gasped as though she desperately needed air.

“Caitrin,” he crooned to her. “You’re all right. I’m here.” He wrapped his arms around her.

She sucked in an anguished breath and trembled against him.

“Caitie, what is it?”

She shook her head. “I-I doona ken.”

“Were you dreaming?” he asked. “Is it your friend again?”

“No, no’ Blaire.” Her heart began to slow to its normal pace. “It was a man.”

“A man?” He wasn’t at all happy about the prospect of other men visiting her in her dreams.

“In my dream. I think I saw the past,” she explained. “Which isna right. My gift is to see the future, not people or events that have already happened.”

“You saw the past in your dream?”

She nodded against his chest. “The man, the old man,” she clarified, “he had powder in his hair.”

An uneasiness started in the pit of Dash’s stomach, but he let her continue.

“He was in pain and…” She sat up and looked directly in his eyes. “He was callin’ for ye.”

Dash closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear any more.

“But why was he callin’ for ye? Do ye ken who he was?”

Dash had a fairly good idea. “You’ve been very vague,” he evaded. “How would I know who that was?”

Cait frowned at him. “Ye do ken. I can hear it in yer voice. Who is it, Dash?”

He winced when he asked, “Does he have a crooked nose? Strong chin?”

She sighed with relief. “Yes. Who was he? What did he want with ye? So strange ta see the past.”

Dash shook his head. “I don’t think it was the past, Caitie. It sounds like my father—Eynsford, I mean.”

A look of confusion settled on her face. “But he looked like—”

Dash well knew what the man looked like. “A page from the last generation,” he finished for her. “He still wears a wig and powders his hair. He thinks current fashion is undignified and rather common.”

Caitrin threaded her fingers through his hair. “He was calling out for ye, Dash.”

“Won’t he be surprised that I’m not in England?” he replied dryly.

“Ye shouldna say that,” she said softly. “I doona ken what there is between the two of ye, but there’s a reason I had my dream.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m no’ sure, but ye have ta go ta him.”

Dash turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. “I said my vows this very day, Caitie. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I’m no’ tryin’ ta get rid of ye. But ye have ta go ta him. It’s important.”

“Nothing is more important than you. I’ll not leave you the day after our wedding and certainly not to rush to
his
miserable side.”

“He’s dyin’,” Cait said softly.

Dash couldn’t bring himself to care. During his entire life, the marquess had berated him and looked down on him, locked him up and cursed his existence. Dash didn’t care if he ever laid eyes on the old man again. “Not soon enough.”

She smacked his chest. “That’s awful.”

“Caitie,” he began, but she poked her finger into his chest.

“Listen ta me, Dashiel Thorpe. Ye have ta go see the man. I doona ken why it’s important, but I wouldna see it if it wasna.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Dash insisted. He’d spent his whole life needing someone who understood him, someone who cared for him. Cait hadn’t admitted to loving him, but her affection was the closest thing he’d ever had. And he wasn’t about to rush all the way to Kent to see the man who had made his existence miserable.

“I’m goin’ with ye,” she said determinedly.

Dash snorted. “The devil you are. I saw you at each inn along the way here, Caitie. You can’t be around all those strange people. I won’t torture you that way. I won’t ask it of you. And since I have no desire to return to Eynsford Park, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“As long as ye’re with me, I’ll be all right,” she whispered, touching her lips to his chest.

“Cait!” he groaned. “Don’t try to persuade me. I’m not going.”

“As long as ye’re touchin’ me, it blocks out all the other images,” Caitrin admitted.

Dash reared back and looked at her, silhouetted in the dim light from the grate. “Blocks out the other images?” he echoed. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” she sighed, “yer touch is the remedy ta the pain of all those strangers’ feelings when I travel. I am no’ plagued by the futures of those around me when ye touch me.” She threaded her fingers with his. “We have ta go see the marquess, Dash. I wouldna have dreamed about it, otherwise.”

She seemed unwavering, and Dash heaved a sigh. He couldn’t believe she was making him do this. He was indeed a besotted fool even to consider it.

“I can’t imagine what we’ll gain from this.”

Cait shook her head. “Whatever it is will be revealed.” Then she smiled brightly. “Oh, and if we time ourselves properly, we’ll meet Elspeth and Benjamin along the way. They’ve just started for home.”

Bloody wonderful. A Westfield brother
and
his father all in the same journey. Dash didn’t even try to stop the growl that escaped him.

***

Caitrin seemed to be enveloped in a dark cocoon of all-encompassing heat. The sensation was completely unfamiliar as she was often so cold in Scotland. She sighed, perfectly content to stay wrapped up like this forever.

“Caitie.” She heard her name from so far away. “Caitie.” Dash’s voice was suddenly much louder, beside her ear.

“Hmm?” she lazily managed.

Then her warm cocoon shook. “You make the most enchanting little sounds when you sleep, angel,” Dash chuckled.

She blinked her eyes open to find herself staring at her husband’s sculpted chest, lightly dusted with golden hair. Cait smiled as memories of the previous night flashed in her mind, and she couldn’t recall ever being so happy. She pressed a kiss to his collarbone.

“Good morning, my lord.”

Dash’s fingers traced circles on her back.

“Good morning, my lady. How did you sleep?”

Cait lifted her head to look at him. “Ye are very warm. I doona think I’ll have need of a blanket ever again.”

A grin tugged at his lips, and he rolled her beneath him. “Are you suggesting I cover you day
and
night?”

Cait giggled.

“That can be arranged, lass.” He nuzzled against her neck, making tingles race across her skin. “How long can we stay here in Westfield’s cottage?”

“By the time we return from Kent, Elspeth will already be back.”

Dash stilled, and then he lifted his head and pierced her with his amber gaze. “You’re not really serious about that, are you?”

Cait frowned at him. Did he think her power was something to make light of? “Of course I’m serious about it, Dashiel. We have ta leave today.”

His brow furrowed. “Today? Caitie, I want to locate a broker today to help find us a place of our own. And we just finished a long journey. I’d like a sennight or so to recover from that, and—”

“Today,” she insisted, pushing at his chest. “I had my dream
last
night. We need ta start for Kent today.”

He groaned and rolled off her. “I don’t want to do this, Cait. I don’t want travel all the way to Eynsford Park and visit with my father. I want to build our life here and look to
our
future.”

She could hear the pain in his voice, and her heart ached for him. The marquess must be an awful man, but her dream meant something and they couldn’t ignore it. Her mother might have been remiss by not mentioning certain things like not being able to see her husband’s future, but she had been very clear about following premonitions.

To ignore one would have dire circumstances. Cait wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but there was nothing in her life she was willing to jeopardize to find out.

“We have ta go, Dash,” she said softly. “I wish we could stay, too, but my dream…”

He pushed up on his elbow as though to see her better. He nodded slightly in assent. “If you feel it’s necessary, we’ll leave today.”

Cait sat up and threw her arms around him, relieved that he understood the importance of her power. She couldn’t help but smile. Dash wouldn’t be the same dictatorial prig Benjamin Westfield was over Elspeth. He respected her gift. She wanted to weep with joy.