Wolf and Punishment (The Alaska Princesses Trilogy, Book 1) (3 page)

But now that Janelle-with her perfect hair, her sweet smile, and her twinkling eyes was asking him about sex in Freedom Town, the fact that he'd slept with several unheated females before landing at Denver U. made him feel less like a guy having a lot of fun before he settled down and more like a sleaze.

Still, he didn’t want to lie to her. So he took a chance and told the bright and shiny girl sitting across from him the truth: “Yeah, that’s true, too.”

She set down her cup. “Have you ever slept with an unheated female?”

“Yeah, I have,” he said, and he braced himself, wondering if she’d immediately get up and leave or keep making small talk until she finished the hot chocolate and could say goodnight without it being a thing.

But then she looked up at him and said, in a hushed voice, “Would you, um… would you sleep with me?”

Mag went completely still. He must have heard her wrong. Either that or he’d totally misunderstood what she was asking him.

“What?” His voice sounded hoarse even to his own ears.

She’d been cool as a cucumber before, but now he could feel the nervous energy coming off of her in waves. Her delicate fingers clenched and unclenched around her cocoa mug. “Would you have sex with me? Would you take my virginity tonight?” Then as if she’d just remembered her manners she added, “Please?”

3

N
EARLY all of her life, Janelle had been trained not to reveal what she was really feeling. She was always expected to be poised, calm, and collected, no matter where she went. Other girls showed up at the kingdom town’s schoolhouse with tousled hair, in jeans and t-shirts, complaining about alarm clocks and parents who would not let them sleep in.

Not Janelle. She got up at five, and put effort into picking out the perfect outfit. She ruthlessly covered any blotchy spots on her face with MAC concealer, then either flat-ironed her hair or smoothed product through each individual curl, so it wouldn’t look frizzy. The result being she’d never arrived anywhere at any time looking anything less than perfect, like a magazine ad that had decided to live out its existence in the real world.

However, she couldn’t keep up the façade as she slipped the key card into her hotel room door with shaking hands. The clunk of the lock releasing mirrored the way her stomach dropped. Like the roller coaster ride she’d found herself on had finally reached the top of its first peak and dropped her over it with maniacal glee.

The pageant organizers had provided her with very nice accommodations—a spacious corner room with a sofa, cherry wood coffee table, and a long desk lining the wall. But it wasn’t a suite, and when she stepped into the room with Mag behind her, the sight of the bed greeted them on the other side. A looming presence covered in Frette linens.

Mag, however, didn’t seem to be as intimidated by the bed as she was. He looked around her room with obvious admiration in his eyes as he took in the luxury accommodations. Unlike the wolves she usually kept company with, Janelle noticed he tended to wear his feelings on his face. Naked, for the whole world to see. It was apt that he hailed from a town called Freedom, she thought. She wondered what it would be like to openly express how you were feeling without thought or care to how others perceived you.

“Um, the bathroom’s right over there,” she said, pointing behind him. “If you need it.”

She purposefully turned her back on him and went to drop her purse on the room’s burnt orange Victorian sofa so he couldn’t see her face while she tried to pull her usually unflappable composure back around her like a shield. But that only made it worse, because now she was even closer to the bed. The bed that was practically screaming, “This is really happening! This is really, really happening!”

“I don’t need it,” he said behind her. But she didn’t hear him move any further into the room.

Breathe, breathe
… she said to herself.

Inviting a wolf she’d just met up to her room wasn’t a very princess-like thing to do, but it was also probably the only opportunity she’d have to do something like this before her heat night with Jeffrey. What were the chances of her ever meeting a wolf who was not only willing to break the Lupine Council law about sleeping with unheated females, but also had no idea who she was?

If she didn’t do this, the first time she had sex would be with Jeffrey. An image of the Wyoming prince floated across her eyes: tall and almost as thin as she was, with his fashionably cut blond hair, his smile, which seemed more like an upturned sneer than an actual expression of happiness.

Janelle suddenly recalled the comment Alisha had made when Jeffrey had visited the Alaska kingdom town for the first time. They were lined up, waiting for him on the dock to begin the traditional greeting ceremony for visiting royalty. He’d let her cousin, Vince, do all the work, rowing the umiak boat, while he sat in the back, looking put out that it took so much effort to get to the Alaska kingdom house. Alisha had leaned over and whispered in her ear, “And the part of King Joffrey in the Game of Wolves goes to… Wyoming!”

Janelle hadn't laughed at Alisha's Jeffrey/Joffrey comparison then. In fact, she had let a rare hint of annoyance creep into her voice when she'd told her sister they wouldn't be doing a traditional greeting after all, due to Alisha's inability to complete even the most basic of princess obligations without snarky side comments. And Janelle most certainly wasn't laughing about it now.

She swallowed back her fear. What she was about to do with Mag violated Lupine Council law and her pledge agreement with Jeffrey, which had a clause pertaining to her virginity. She had agreed to both the clause and Jeffrey's pledge in service of her crown, to honor her parents, but she needed something… just one thing for herself.

She drew up to her full height and forced herself to turn around and face Mag, her princess smile in full effect. “I’ve never done this before. Could you walk me through it?”

Mag studied Janelle for a few seconds, his eyes narrow and shrewd. For a moment it seemed like he could see right through her. But in the end he said, “How about if I get naked. Then you get naked. And we go from there.”

He didn’t wait for her to agree or disagree before he started taking off his clothes. He tossed his motorcycle jacket on the sofa. The rest of his clothes and his boots, which he kicked under the cherry wood coffee table, until he was completely nude, soon followed it. Not one stitch of clothing.

Janelle’s breath actually caught in her throat. He was beyond impressive. “You said I was beautiful downstairs, but you’re…” Her hands lit up with an unfamiliar urge. “May I… may I touch you?”

He seemed amused by the question. “Yeah, sure,” he answered.

Before she could think too hard about what she was doing, she went for it, running her hands over his rippled abs, watching the way her French-manicured nails contrasted with his faintly burnished skin. It was like touching the muscle car her cousin Vince had bought the summer before. Like Mag’s body had a powerful engine humming inside it, threatening to rev up at any time.

“Touch me as long as you need to,” he said. “As long as it takes for you to stop being scared.”

She wanted to politely deny being scared, it was on the tip of her tongue to do so, but his skin… she couldn’t get over it, such a soft contrast to the solid muscle underneath. She let her hands run up his body to his pectorals, which flexed underneath the pads of her fingers, as if in greeting. Her fingers then found his arms, the biceps prominent, firm, and large, even in their state of rest. She wondered what they would feel like if he flexed them. Maybe like rocks covered in silk.

Her eyes traveled down his body until she spotted the other part of him. Long and thick and nearly standing up between them.

“You can touch me anywhere but there,” he said. “This will be over way too soon if you touch me there.”

A tiny flare of disappointment went off inside Janelle as she moved her hands to his hips, finally settling beneath the hard V of muscle, which ironically, seemed to be pointing her toward the one thing on his body she wasn’t allowed to touch.

“May I kiss you?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said, and though he sounded as cool as a cucumber, his moon-colored eyes darkened as she moved closer and placed her lips on his.

She’d only ever kissed the Wyoming prince before. Chaste kisses of greeting and farewell, meant more for those watching than either of them. Kissing Mag was nothing at all like kissing Jeffrey.

Even though he didn’t touch her, his lips drew on hers, keeping her there long past the experimental peck she’d meant to give him. He easily pulled her tongue into his mouth, and that forbidden thing below? She could feel it against her stomach, pulsing and alive, like an animal.

The kiss went on for hours, days, weeks—maybe only minutes. She’d never be able to say for sure, but at some point, she said against his lips, “Okay, we can go on, I’m not scared anymore.” And unlike the first denial she’d meant to make, this statement was true.

Her mind had become languid, and her breasts had become heavy inside their La Perla bra, and her body… oh, it had become a curious thing, indeed. Full of questions she didn’t quite know how to ask or answer. More. She wanted more. More kisses. More touching. Whatever he was willing to give her, she wanted it.

However, he broke off from their kiss, bringing his face back so he could look at her when he said, “Unheated she-wolves aren’t like human girls.”

Her mind struggled with the subject change. “What?”

“You can get aroused, but you don’t get wet down there like human girls. That’s why unheated girls don’t have an arousal scent. Main point: it won’t be comfortable for you without lube, and we don’t have any here, so… I need to eat you out for a while—“ he stopped, seeing the lack of comprehension on her face. “What I mean is, I need to put my mouth on you and make you come—um, have an orgasm, at least twice before I put it in.”

And suddenly what had been a very hot kiss turned into an incredibly awkward lesson about she-wolf sexuality versus human sexuality. Janelle swallowed again, her throat suddenly dry as a desert, or perhaps more appropriately, dry as an unheated she-wolf’s—

“Okay, I understand.” she said, interrupting her own disturbing train of thought and trying to keep her voice from going up an octave. “And I’m sorry… I hope you don’t mind having to do that to me.”

His eyes darkened again, just like they had when she’d asked to kiss him. “I don’t mind. Can you lie back on the bed for me?”

In a daze, Janelle stepped away from him and started toward the bed.

“It’ll help if you get naked, too.”

Oh, God. The drugged out feeling of their sultry kiss was completely gone now. She removed her dress, silk underwear, and heels even faster than Mag had undressed, leaving nothing but the tasteful, two-strand beaded nephrite jade necklace she’d inherited from her grandmother, and a crippling self-awareness she feared might be her undoing.

Before she could chicken out, she laid back on the bed in a rush of movement, hands palm up at her sides, legs outstretched. Then she waited.

But not for long. Mag lay down on his side beside her, propping up on one arm to ask, “May I kiss you?”

He was teasing her by making the same request she had just a few minutes ago. But Janelle didn’t mind. Playing along actually relaxed her. Kind of. “Sure,” she said, just like he had.

So he did and soon the warm feelings came back, coursing through her, until she felt curious again. And bold. She wanted to feel his body against hers, and she began to turn herself towards him, but his hand went to her shoulder, keeping her back on the bed. “Hold on, Janelle.”

He lifted up to his knees, and the next thing she knew, he was repositioning her legs on either side of his massive thighs, pushing on her knees so she was completely spread out in front of him in a way that would have been too embarrassing to bear if she wasn’t so curious about what he would do to her next.

She soon got her answer. His large hands enveloped her breasts, pinching her nipples between the bottom phalanxes of his fingers as he caressed the globes, not too hard, not too soft, just right.

Then he leaned back like a monk in prayer and buried his head between her legs.

Whatever she’d thought such an act would feel like, whatever she’d imagined when she read human romance novels. This was even better. With his hands still on her breasts, he worked his tongue inside of her, lapping at her inner folds until… it touched something inside of her that sent a current of electricity straight through her womb.

“Oh, my God!” she said on a pant. Was that her clit? Was that what it felt like to be touched there with something as hot and wet as Mag’s tongue? She pushed herself into his mouth, loving what he was doing, but wanting, needing more.

“Mag…” His name came out as a plea. Her tongue asking his tongue to keep going, keep going, please keep going.

His hands fell from her breast, and he brought one of them down to her womanhood. Then he pushed his shoulders between her legs, keeping her open wide as he continued to lathe her most intimate part with his relentless tongue while rubbing her clit with the pad of his thumb. Deeper and deeper, his tongue exploring, his thumb rubbing harder and harder…

And like a match lit near a pile of dynamite, everything below her waist exploded. She arched her back, crying out his name. The only thing that kept her on the bed was Mag’s large body between her legs, his hands holding her down as the orgasm ripped through her.

His eyes stayed on her womanhood as she came, almost scientific as they studied her, and she thought she might know why. She could feel something wet between her legs now, something slick that wasn’t saliva.

“This is good,” he said when she came down from her climax, breathing hard. “One more time…”

He went down on her again. Licking and lapping and kissing until Janelle was moaning in a way very unbecoming of a princess. But even though she knew what to expect now—maybe
because
she knew what to expect now—she came even harder the second time. The world went dark for a little bit as her eyes squeezed shut and her necked arched back while the sensations crested over her.