Unleashed (8 page)

“Wulfgar,” she whispered, all her need in his name.

Down the hall, the man stirred on the great bed, his hand gripping his cock while his mind hungrily took over hers. He could feel her heat as if she was in the bed with him, smell her arousal as if her sweet nectar was actually beneath his mouth. Her hips arched up and her thighs fell to the side to give him greater access to her heat and then he felt her hands on his head. She spoke his name. He could see her…sweet God, she was there with him.

The fire in his eyes blazed higher when he saw her desperate need. With a deliberate movement, he lowered his head and put his mouth where the night before his hand had given her pleasure. Her moans grew louder as his tongue touched her clit. He closed his eyes as her hands held him to her. Her back arched as he greedily feasted on her flesh. Her soft moans told him how his touch affected her. Her fingers tightened in his hair. She bowed over him briefly before flinging her head back as ecstasy filled her. Her fingers went as boneless as the rest of her and she fell back on the pillows. Smiling at having satisfied her, he stretched out next to her and gathered her against him.

“Beloved,” he murmured in her ear.

****

Amanda stirred and the memory of her dream flooded into her mind. She felt her belly warm and her legs tremble. With a smile, she burrowed further into the pillows and shifted on her side. She suddenly froze. She was naked! Frantic, she searched for her nightgown and saw it on the floor several feet from the bed.

Clutching the sheet to her chest, she took several deep breaths unable to believe she’d taken her nightgown off in her sleep. The alternative was unthinkable. She could not believe that Lord Wulfgar would actually come into her bedroom while she was asleep. Even if she had accepted his proposal last night, surely he wouldn’t be so bold.

She swallowed, realizing that she knew very little about the man. Her cousin’s words echoed in her mind. Unwilling to leave the bed, she sat staring at the puddle of pale green flannel.

Images from her dream kept trying to overwhelm her, and she closed her eyes at the sensations. It was so tempting to run to him, say “yes,” and beg him to really do to her what he’d done in her dreams. But the fear of his rejection paralyzed her. The picture of her holding his head between her thighs wouldn’t go away, no matter how she fought back at them. She could feel his mouth on her core again, feel his hands on her breasts pressing her to the pillows and then she fell back, succumbing to the sensation. She muffled her cries with her fist as waves of pleasure rolled over her.

Spent, she curled up on the pillows. As if on its own volition, one hand went to her thigh and then between her legs. For a moment, Amanda couldn’t move. She was wet. Not as if she was going through her cycle, but something very different. That made her curious enough to lift the blankets and look. What met her gaze shocked her even further.

At the top of each inner thigh lay several narrow marks and a few of what looked like small bruises. In disbelief, she traced one, feeling the indentation. She trembled. Had he come to her room? Why? And had he actually come to her the other nights when she had thought she was dreaming?

Her head swiveled to look at the pillows but she saw only the indentation from her head. And he had definitely held her as she’d slept. Hadn’t he?

Knowing she had to at least pick up the nightgown before Mrs. Anders or one of the maids came in, she took a deep breath and slid out of bed. She took two quick steps, snatched up the material, and sprang back into bed. Safely under the blankets, she clutched it to her.

If it was torn, then he had come to her. If it wasn’t… She frowned. If it wasn’t, then how did she get the marks on her legs? Why had she reacted the way she did when she
knew
she was awake? Or was she awake?

She took a deep breath. Slowly she pulled the nightgown out from under the covers and found the neck-line. For a long moment, she stared without seeing before she focused on the material. She closed her eyes.

It had been torn in half.

Now thoroughly confused, she struggled with the shame of her dreams knowing that no well-brought up maid would do such a thing. She shouldn’t even know about such things. Trembling, she pulled herself from the bed, washing herself and dressing.

She didn’t go down for breakfast. When no one came to even bring her morning tea, she told herself that Lord Wulfgar was so angry at her not immediately accepting his proposal that he had ordered everyone to stay away from her. Part of her knew that he wouldn’t do something petty, but the other part didn’t care. She brushed her hair but left it unbound.

Near ten o’clock, there was a light tap on the door. Amanda lifted her forehead from the glass pane where she sat on the window seat.

“Come in,” she called, half-expecting to see him.

Mrs. Anders came in with an affectionate, understanding look on her face.

“His lordship requests you join him in the library, miss.”

Nodding, Amanda stood, smoothed down the skirt of her deep yellow gown, and followed the housekeeper down the grand staircase to the library. Timson opened the door for her and she entered, pausing as the door was closed quickly after she entered.

Dressed in a dark green jacket over a green-brown tweed vest, Lord Wulfgar was again seated at his desk working on accounts. At the sound of the latch, he closed his account book and looked up at her. Even from across the room, she knew that expression. She could see the fire in his eyes. It was the same look on his face from her dream.

Images of him coming to her room flashed in her mind. The first night when he’d held her. The second night when he’d suckled on her breasts and his fingers had stroked her to pleasures unimagined. Last night when he’d bitten her thighs and feasted on where his hand had been. And just that morning when she’d been awake and felt the pleasure again.

With a low cry, she stumbled back against the door, a hand reaching behind her. He was there in an instant. He picked her up and carried her to his leather chair before the fireplace. She struggled weakly to free herself.

“Please. Let me go,” she pleaded. “Leave me be.”

“Shh, Beloved,” he murmured, cradling her head to his chest.

“Don’t call me that.” She didn’t deserve to be called that, and to hear him say it pushed her to despair.

“It’s your name,” he told her. “An ancient translation and what I will call you.”

“No,” she insisted, dissolving into tears. “What are you doing to me?”

“Fulfilling our destinies.”

“No,” she shook her head in denial. Her brain refused to accept what he said.

“It is the fate of the men in my family,” began Wulfgar, arms tight around her. “To know that the only woman for us is one we have a mental link to. It usually starts in dreams. As the pair becomes closer, both the man and woman can initiate the link to communicate with the other. The instant I saw you…I thought you were the gentlest beauty I’d ever seen. I didn’t dare hope that you would be the one for me.”

“The blacksmith in town said you’d been married,” she whispered. Mental link? Was he putting the images in her mind? But why? How? “Didn’t you have the link with her? Or was that part of the family curse he mentioned?”

“No,” he said shortly. “She was part of a coven of witches who used tricks and potions to make it seem as if she had formed a link with me. I don’t know what you heard in the town…”

“I know you didn’t kill her. I don’t know what killed her, but I know it wasn’t you.”

“Even knowing that I found out that she’d tricked me?” He seemed astonished at the conviction and certainty in her voice.

“Whatever you might have to do in battle, you would see harming a woman, especially killing her, as a sign of great weakness.” Her head shifted and she met his gaze. “I knew that as soon as I saw you.”

“Thank you,” he said simply. “The first night you were here,” he resumed the story. “I tried to tell myself that fate had forsaken me. That it certainly wouldn’t bring me the one woman meant for me in the middle of a blizzard. But I dreamt of holding you that night. My dreams knew better,” he decided.

“And the second night?”

He gave her a slightly embarrassed look.

“I wanted to caress you, to dream of touching you to ecstasy. It truly never occurred to me that you were experiencing the dreams, until you came in to breakfast yesterday. The day before you had blushed when you first saw me, but I thought it was because you were shy around me. But yesterday morning,” he smiled at her, “I started to wonder. The idea that you might have felt some of the dream wouldn’t leave my mind. Even when Anders came to the door. I saw how you looked when I fastened my cloak. I decided to adjust yours to see what your reaction was.” Desire blazed in the blue eyes. “All I wanted to do was carry you to my bed.”

He chuckled as she ducked her head. One large hand cupped her cheek and lifted her face.

“I wanted to hold you. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do was make you let go of me once we were back inside. I wanted to hold you like I am now, Beloved. I wanted to comfort you. But while Bettina was shocked into silence, I thought it the best time to help your father regain control of his marriage.”

Amanda nodded, a hesitant look on her face.

“What about last night?” she whispered, shaking her head. “My nightgown was torn and…” A furious blush rose in her cheeks. “There were marks on my legs…”

Astonished, he stared at her. Shamed that she had actually said anything, she tried to get off his lap. His arms tightened around her and he buried his face against her neck. She felt him tremble and her arms went instinctively around him.

“What is it? Did I say or do something wrong?”

His head came up and she could see the stunned joy in his eyes.

“No, Beloved,” he told her tenderly. “That’s how powerful our shared dream was.” He held her close, nearly crushing her against his chest as his body rocked her. “My grandfather told me it took four years and two children for my grandparents to have a bond that strong. I don’t think my parents ever did and they were as devoted to each other as my father’s parents.” He looked at her. “It was really torn?”

“And well away from the bed on the floor, as if it had been thrown,” she replied, astonishment on her face. “Dreams can do that? Did you know I was awake this morning?”

“I was listening for your mind and felt you waking. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was with you, waking you up by pleasuring you. I wanted to feel the softness of your mound.” His hand covered her breast and her breath hitched in her throat. “I wanted to hear that sound in reaction to my touch. Feel your hands in my hair as my mouth feasted on your sweet nectar.” A slightly chiding look came into his expression. “You were trying to stop me, which stunned me at first but…”

“It certainly didn’t stop you,” she managed to retort weakly, her voice shaking.

He chuckled, kissing her forehead.

“Remember that, Beloved. If I want you, I will have you,” he murmured. “It wasn’t until last night when you told me of your dreams that I knew for certain. It may not have been the best time to ask you to marry me, or the best way…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged. “But I thought it might help you deal with your dreams.”

“Help me?” she asked softly. All the fear and shame of the past three days rushed to her mind. “Help me.” Her voice had risen. Unable to leave his lap, she turned to face him. “I thought I was becoming the most wanton maid. Dreaming of a man in my bed when I’d just met him hours before. And then the next night having that man make me feel the most incredible sensations I’ve ever felt. And last night—” She gasped for air. “I…there aren’t words to describe how you made me feel last night and this morning. I was terrified that if I told you about my dreams you would think me too shameful and throw me out.” Small fists drummed on his chest. “Don’t do that to me again. Do you understand me? If you want to touch me, then touch me. If you want to kiss me…”

His mouth covered hers, effectively obeying her unfinished sentence. His fingers pulled her skirts up and quickly stroked her thighs. He felt her anger change to passion as she melted against him. When she moaned into his mouth, he raised his head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, “for the shame you thought you had to feel. There is no shame in what we have between us. It is something rare and beautiful.”

She put two fingers over his lips and he fell silent. Amanda relaxed her mind and the images flashed before her. Tears filled her eyes as she realized that she truly was with the one man who could understand and protect her gift. And she would share it with him.

“Trust me?” she breathed.

“Absolutely,” he said fervently.

Gold eyes met blue as she placed her hands on either side of his face. She saw his eyes narrow and his breath catch as the pictures appeared in his mind. First of them together in her bed, and her growing large with child, then her holding a child to her breast as his arms surrounded them both. He sat at his desk, the library door being flung open as three children, each progressively smaller, rushed in with her coming behind them, carrying a babe.

“Give me your son,” came her request. “And then your daughter, and another son, and another. Until the walls echo with their laughter.” She saw the tears in his eyes. “Give me your son, my lord,” her soft voice wrapped around his heart. “And be my mate for life.”

“How?” he whispered, old fears rising up.

“My mother’s family,” she told him. “They fled the Flaradian continent seven generations ago during a purification purge.”

Wulfgar stared at her. Nearly two centuries ago, six ships carrying two thousand people had come aground on a southern peninsula after a storm. They’d barely been able to speak, yet had been able to communicate with each other. They had been granted refuge by the king, but mostly stayed in the enclave they’d established near the rocks they’d foundered on. A hundred years ago, the greedy lords in the region had attacked the walls. They had gained what treasure the refugees had accumulated, but within a few years, all had died grotesque deaths that rumor put down to a curse the last woman left alive had placed on them. It had been said that some escaped, but not one nor their descendents, had ever come forward to claim the wealth that had been recovered by the throne.