The Wedding Chase (37 page)

He followed her eyes from Hecate to Remus. The cat’s unblinking stare and the dog’s liquid brown gaze never wavered from their master and mistress’s embracing forms.

“They are watching us,” Zel whispered.

He blew out the candle then hauled her in, tight to his body. “Satan’s hairy toes! Close your eyes. Ignore them.”

Zel’s voice was tiny. “I cannot. I can still see their eyes, looking.”

“The devil!” He freed Zel, stalking to the furry ball on the armoire. “You mind your own business, little witch. I have been celibate too damn long.”

He strode across the room, grabbing the hound by the scruff of the neck. “And you, shaggy beast, if you interfere any more with the exercise of my husbandly rights, it’s off to outer Mongolia with you.”

Wolfgang released the dog and turned back to the bed, picking up his nearly naked wife, tossing her on top of the covers. A few good tugs and her gown and undergarments landed on the floor. Slippers and stockings followed in rapid order. Two sets of eyes, glowing in the darkness, watched as Wolfgang jerked the thin curtains around the massive four-poster.

He quickly shed his clothing. Remus growled a warning. Wolfgang bared his teeth, an answering growl rising from deep in his chest. The dog lowered his head, whimpering softly.

“It’s bloody time you learned your place in this pack.” He snarled between clenched teeth and made a dive, through the curtains, for the bed. “Zel? Where the hell are you?”

“Over here, this bed is too big.”

“And dark. But don’t worry, I’ll find you.” He pushed toward her voice, sighing as he felt her hands groping for him, moaning when her fingers grasped the perfect spot.

Her usually deep alto came out barely a squeak. “What a big—”

Wolfgang circled her hand with his own before she could jerk it away. “Ah, that’s it.”

“But—”

He smothered the rest of her words with his mouth, using his free arm to gather her closer. Her hand clenched tight over his erection. A moan of near pain escaped his lips. Uncaring if he died of pleasure, he slid her hand slowly up and down. Her fingers tensed, gripping him with an unbearable pressure.

“Mother of Lucifer!” He growled, moving her hand faster.

“Am I hurting you?” Zel whispered, a quaver in her voice.

“Killing me, more like.”

She tried to yank her hand free and when he refused to release her, she grasped him harder.

“Lakes of brimstone, woman!” Wolfgang hissed. “You’ll have me exploding and shaming myself before I’ve even
started on you.” He caught his breath and pried her fingers loose, laying her hand safely on his chest. “I think we’ll go about this differently.”

Turning on his side and raising himself on his elbow, he searched for her face in the darkness. Unable to make out more than a vague outline of her head, he reached eager fingers for the likely location of her cheek.

“Ouch!”

“Devil it! I’m sorry.” His skin heated. He was acting the veriest unschooled infant. What better way to start lovemaking than to poke his wife in the eye. “Did I hurt you?”

“Only a little.” Zel giggled. “But if that is your idea of different, maybe we need to go back to the first plan.”

“No.” Wolfgang pulled her onto her side, wrapping his arms about her, allowing her laughter to infect him and ease his nerves. Nerves? Satan’s short hairs! He
was
nervous. More nervous even than his first time behind the stables with that wild upstairs maid.

He wanted to please Zel. Hellfire, didn’t he always wish to please his partners? But this went beyond a simple desire for mutual sexual pleasure. He expected more from their joining. But what? He was setting himself up for a major disappointment. Sex was sex. Still, he could use all his expertise to make this memorable for them both. As he nuzzled her neck, he considered the perfect beginning for the perfect night. “I know just the thing. And the third time
will
be the charm.”

Zel skimmed her lips lightly over his face as if seeking his mouth. He stopped her search short, claiming her with a deep kiss, tasting her lips and tongue. She pressed herself to him so tightly he could define the contours of her breasts, ribs, and thighs. But he wasn’t close enough. He clasped each mound of her firm, rounded bottom in a hand and pulled her into him, grinding his arousal into her smooth, flat abdomen.

This was not his plan at all. Wolfgang reluctantly freed
her mouth and kissed his way down to the pulse beating hard and fast along the column of her neck. He slipped over her collarbone and settled in at her breasts, burying his face in the soft valley. Her fingers fastened onto his shoulders.

Demon’s fangs, he could lie like this forever. But there was so much more to explore. He circled a taut nipple with his tongue, then drew the bud slowly into his mouth, caressing the pebbled texture with his lips. The little moans bubbling up her throat stirred the blood already boiling through his veins. Abruptly abandoning her nipple, he laved a wet trail to her navel, dropping a kiss in its center.

He pushed Zel onto her back and nibbled at her hipbone. His teeth traced a jagged line down her outer thigh, stopping at her knee to scan her long, sleek body.

“Damnation!”

She jerked to awareness, her voice fuzzy and languorous. “What is it?”

“Those cursed animals. I want to see you.”

Zel laughed shakily. “I think I’m glad you cannot.”

He ran his teeth down her shin. “Then I’ll just have to see you with my mouth.”

She sighed as his tongue slivered up her calf and he bit at the tender skin behind her knee.

Wolfgang continued his path up her inner thigh, licking and sucking until he could feel little shivers run up from her toes.

Giving her no opportunity for counter or retreat, he launched his tongue into the soft, moist cleft at the juncture of her legs, seeking the core of her.

Her thighs clamped hard over his ears. “What are you doing?”

“As much as I love your thighs about my head, you’re hurting my ears.” Wolfgang pushed open her legs and darted back in.

Pulling at his hair, she protested again. “Stop, you can’t do this.”

He lifted his head. “But this is the something different I promised. Relax and enjoy it. If you make me stop I have no idea what I’ll do next.”

Zel released his hair and he returned to his ministrations. She lay very still for several moments, then the low moaning started again. He flicked his tongue rapidly over the center point of her pleasure, and her moaning grew louder. He eased a finger into her tight channel.

“Stop! You’re killing me.” Her fingers threaded roughly through his hair.

Wolfgang raised his head, gulping down a few steadying breaths, leaving his finger embedded deep within her. “Are you all right?”

“If you stop, I think I’ll die.” She tugged his head back down.

He stroked her with finger and tongue until she writhed and bucked, crying out for him to stop with every other breath. But when he paused for even a second, she gripped his hair so hard his scalp ached. The tension built rapidly to a breaking point, he could feel it in her rigid thighs, arched back, and clenched fingers. With a sharp shriek the shudder of release finally washed over her. Stunned, he reached down to touch himself, unsure of whether or not he too had climaxed.

“Thank God!” Wolfgang gasped, relieved to find himself still hard, urgent to take her and make her his. He lifted himself over her and plunged in to the hilt. Fires of Hades! She was so tight and hot! He would die of pleasure.

“You’re hurting me.” Zel’s cry carried through the fog of exquisite agony surrounding him. She struggled against him.

“I’m sorry.” Wedging his hands beneath her, he held her close. “Keep still, the pain will ease,” he murmured into her ear, biting carefully on the lobe, then tracing the hollow of her cheek to her mouth. Gently he molded her lips to his, sharing the searing tenderness that so strangely tempered the
passion. He had never been so lost in bliss, yet at the same time so aware of her, her pleasure and pain.

Zel began to relax. Wolfgang could feel the stiffness leave her muscles as the sweat broke out on his brow. A few more moments. He could hold out that long. Concentrating on the air entering and leaving his lungs, he kept himself motionless second after second. Finally he ran his hands up and down her back, starting to rotate his hips, ever so slowly, gradually stretching and opening her, tormenting himself. Her arms crept round his neck. He withdrew, hesitating, readying his reentry.

Jerking him back, she groaned. “No.”

Wolfgang stopped, wishing he could see her eyes.

“Is it over?” she whispered so softly, he barely made out the words.

“No. Am I hurting you?”

“Only when you stop.” Zel wrapped a leg around him, pinning him captive in the cradle of her hips.

“Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Clootie!” He dropped all pretense of control, pounding into her, stroke after stroke, trying to penetrate past her flesh, trying to bury himself so deep inside her that a part of him would never emerge. Zel cried out again and again, but he didn’t stop, knowing she had ventured far beyond ordinary pain into the same realm of torturous ecstasy he inhabited. His shout of triumphant release mingled with her culminating scream.

Energy drained from his body with his seed, and he collapsed onto her warm softness, breathing in time with her rapidly beating heart.

Zel’s voice rumbled faintly against his neck. “Am I still alive?”

Wolfgang chuckled. “I think so.” The chuckle expanded in his chest to a full, boisterous laugh. Zel drew in a sharp breath, but when he rolled to his back and rocked her against his chest the laugh overtook her until she was shaking with
mirth. He pulled her head to his for a grateful kiss. “But I’m not so sure about me.”

“Grizelda Amadea Fleetwood Hardwicke is a screamer.”

“Sshh.” Zel listened for any sign of movement outside the bed curtains. “You’ll wake the animals.”

Wolfgang’s voice lowered as his tongue circled another toe. “Zel Hardwicke is a screamer.”

“I most certainly am not.” Zel tried to pull her foot away.

“Are too.” He grasped her ankle firmly, nibbling on the tiniest toe. “And I like it.”

“Well then …” She paused to think of a good rejoinder. “Wolfgang John Wesley Hardwicke, Earl Northcliffe, is a toe sucker.”

He released the toe, laughing deeply. “Aye, that I am.” He gently bit her big toe. “But only if the toes are wickedly long and graceful and attached to the body of the new Countess Northcliffe.”

“Have I been insulted? All you can find to praise is my toes.” She pulled away, jerking the sheet up to her shoulders.

Wolfgang pushed the bed curtains slightly open, allowing in a ray of moonlight. Yanking the sheet down, he rolled her onto her back. “How can I praise what you hide?” He ran a finger slowly up her leg, over her hip and across her stomach. “Besides I can’t decide what I like best.” The finger circled her breast, as his warm, solid body slid over her. “Much as I admire your toes, they aren’t in the running with your breasts and thighs.” He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and licked the lobe. “But if I had to choose, I must admit a partiality to elfin ears.” His tongue moved painstakingly up the outer shell. “These little points at the top of yours utterly demolish my self-control.”

Her answering laugh disappeared into his kiss as he wrapped his arms about her, clasping her so tightly she
feared her ribs would crack. If they did, it wouldn’t matter a bit, as she planned to never leave his fierce embrace.

Zel planted kisses along his neck and he gradually loosened his hold, carrying her with him as he rolled to his back.

She pushed up on her elbow, her fingers tracing lazy circles around his chest, savoring the contrasting textures of crisp hair and soft skin overlaying steely muscle. He choked in a breath when her nail caught his tiny nipple. She giggled, pausing in her exploration. “It’s funny how this is so small but it hardens like mine does.”

Wolfgang took her hand, sucking on the fingertips. “Are you laughing at me again?”

“No.” She thought through the act they had just completed. “But you must admit making love is a very strange thing.”

“Strange?”

“Strange.” She laughed again. “And funny.”

“Damnation and the devil’s tail, woman! You laugh at my body, then you laugh at my sexual performance.” He ran a finger up her spine. “Do you wish to completely unman me?”

Zel wiggled against him, her body wedged to his hard, unyielding form. “Even if that were my aim, it’s not working. I can feel something growing.”

Wolfgang groaned, but his answering laughter permeated his voice. “Already?”

“Is it too soon?” She wiggled more.

“No, my little glutton, it’s not too soon.” He ran his hands down her back, cupping her bottom. “So, you still think it’s funny?”

Sighing, she nipped at his shoulder. “From the ridiculous comes the sublime.”