Wolf Bride (12 page)

‘Here,’ he said, and guided her hand down to his groin. He had unlaced himself, and she felt his cock, stiff as the rock itself, the hot thrust of it pressing against her hand.

She snatched her hand away, but he merely laughed.

‘I want you,’ he told her, his mouth finding her breast again. Her nipple hardened under his lips. ‘We were made for each other, Eloise.’

‘Wolf,’ she whispered, shaking her head, though she was half-tempted to let him take her. How many other men and women had coupled in this cave, watched by the ancient sinewy horse galloping across the rock? How many children had been conceived in this strange, shadowy space?

‘There is already speculation that we have slept together before the wedding night, it hardly seems to matter if we do,’ he muttered, kissing her throat again. ‘Though I know we should not . . . I gave your father my word . . . Not even here, in a place meant for love.’

Was this love?

She did not think so, for surely love was a sweet and gentle emotion which stirred the heart. She had felt love for Simon, and thought he loved her in return, until she discovered that he had deceived her.

No, this was not love, but lust. Her blood beat violently, flushing her skin with heat, her skin tingling wherever his hands touched. It felt like a divine madness, this compulsion to touch and be touched, to draw him closer and wrap her limbs around his until their bodies were joined as one.

He took her mouth again, their tongues thrusting wildly together in a dance of desire.

‘Eloise,’ he groaned against her lips, and she felt him raise her skirts, his hands seeking her out, stroking with bold intimacy between her thighs. Her flesh there was already slick, aching with a sweet need for him, and he slid one finger easily inside.

When she arched her back, urging him on, he gasped as though he felt the same impulsive, burning desire that had suddenly burst into flame inside her.

She wanted him too, yes. Her body was shaking with it, her blood on fire.

He kissed her throat again, setting off tiny flames that fed off her skin wherever his lips touched. And while he kissed her, his finger stroked intimately in and out of her moist cleft, filling her with wild excitement.

‘Too much,’ she moaned. ‘It is too much.’

He shifted, withdrawing his fingers from her sex, though she felt his growing impatience. Instead he dragged his thumb back and forth across her nipple, leaving it tingling and erect. His head bent and he sucked it deep into his mouth, massaging it first against his tongue, then nipping at the quivering bud with his teeth, not painfully but with an exquisite torment.

She gasped, clutching onto his shoulders as a spinning sensation threatened to overwhelm her. Suddenly her moist channel was aching for the touch of his fingers, and she wished feverishly that he would stroke her there again, push back inside . . .

‘That pleases you?’ he whispered hotly in her ear. ‘You want more?’

When she did not respond, lost in the bittersweet haze of pleasure he had conjured between them in this sacred place, he took her hand and pressed it once more against his groin.

‘Touch me,’ he insisted.

This time she did not pull away. Her hand moved of its own desire, stroking the hard length of his cock. She heard him suck in his breath, and guessed that her touch pleased him.

Daringly, she closed her fingers about the broad root of his cock, and squeezed. Wolf groaned as though in pain, but did nothing to stop her, so she squeezed him again. His flesh was wondrously smooth, she thought. Experimentally she ran her fingers back up his shaft until she reached the swollen head, which twitched under her touch, swelling even further.

She sighed into the darkness between them, her cheeks on fire, wondering what it would feel like to take such a large organ inside her.

‘Squeeze me again,’ he said thickly, and she complied, eager to please him. He leant forward, his tongue dipping between her lips, tasting her hotly, dancing back and forth against her tongue, lighting the sweetest of fires in her belly and between her thighs.

‘Eloise,’ he muttered against her mouth. ‘Do you have any idea what you are doing to me?’

She did not need to answer that, for his shaft had hardened to perfection in her hand, like a miraculous sword sheathed in velvet, and suddenly his fingers were between her legs too, feeling once again for that moist cleft which ached to take him in.

He was going to take her.

She could not breathe. She could not think. Her hips arched against his, eager for it to be over, to know . . .

‘My lord,’ she gasped, shaking with lust. ‘Please . . .!’

‘Yes, yes . . . You are right . . .’ Abruptly he rolled away, panting. ‘We must not anticipate the wedding night.’

‘My lord?’

Clearly fighting for control, Wolf lay still another moment in silence, then raised his head, examining her flushed face. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Eloise. There is no shame in being unschooled in love. Trust me, the pain is only fleeting and I shall soon teach you to please me. But this is neither the time nor the place for my betrothed to lose her innocence.’

There was chagrin in his face as Wolf got to his feet, brushing himself down, then bent to help her. She could sense his burning frustration, and could have screamed herself, desperate for a consummation she did not fully understand. He crouched before her and pulled her bodice back up, then tidied her gown so that it covered her ankles again, hiding her nakedness beneath.

She sat up, confused, not sure what had happened. Slowly it occurred to her that Lord Wolf had misinterpreted her cry as one of denial, not desire for more.

‘It was a mistake to bring you here unaccompanied,’ he added curtly, not looking at her as he adjusted his own clothing. ‘I lost my head, it was never my intention to . . . There will be time enough for us to learn the ways of each other’s bodies once we are wed.’

Her slick inner channel was still throbbing with unsatisfied need as Eloise stared up at him, slowly registering his words and what they meant. Unschooled in love? Soon teach her to please him?

‘What . . . what are you saying, my lord?’ she asked, stammering as her sense of hurt grew. ‘That I do not please you? That what we have been doing here does not please you?’

He frowned. ‘That is not what I said. But as a virgin, there is much you do not know about a man’s body. I can teach you, if you will let me, and then our time together as man and wife will be more pleasurable.’

She pushed him away when he would have helped her to rise. The more he spoke, the deeper the wound grew in her heart.

‘So this is not pleasurable now?’ Her voice caught on an angry gasp. ‘Forgive me, I am only a foolish maiden, after all. I cannot be expected to know how to please a man.’

‘Of course you please me,’ he muttered, but did not try to stop her getting to her feet on her own this time. He grabbed up his jacket and followed as she felt her way out of the cave, his voice impatient. ‘Slow down, Eloise. Wait for me. The way is uneven; you could hurt yourself in this darkness.’

‘I will be more hurt if I stay,’ she retorted.

Outside, the sun was still bright, the February day still and quiet. The horses, grazing nearby, lifted their heads to stare at them in surprise as they emerged from the cave. Eloise turned to face him, her head held high, and saw his frown deepen into anger as he realised she no longer intended to make love with him.

‘I do not understand why you are so distressed,’ he bit out, watching her.

‘Do you not? You told me I do not please you, my lord,’ she said pointedly. ‘That you prefer to bed more experienced women.’

‘Eloise, do not force an argument where there is none. We are betrothed. Of course you please me.’

‘How?’ she persisted.

He gave a hoarse bark of laughter, looking her up and down. ‘What, must I list your desirable attributes in order to get you back into bed with me? Very well. You are not beautiful in a classical sense, but you have a sensual body and a way of looking at a man that excites the passions. Your breasts are small, but they are high and pert, and will swell once you are with child. To speak frankly, I do prefer the bold lasciviousness of a married woman or a widow to a shy virgin. But it will be no hardship to find you in my bed the morning after the wedding feast.’ His eyes were hard as granite by the time he finished. ‘Is that enough?’

Smarting with hurt and shame, Eloise managed a thick, ‘Quite enough, my lord,’ and turned towards her horse.

On the long ride back to the manor house, she sat stiff and upright on her side-saddle, staring at the countryside through teary eyes. He said nothing most of the way, though rode with more consideration than before, keeping pace with her until they reached the track home. There they parted, for Eloise did not wish him to accompany her back to the door, and Wolf was clearly keen to get away as quickly as possible.

He wheeled his stallion about on the deep-rutted track, watching her through narrowed blue eyes. ‘I shall visit you again in a sennight, Eloise, and trust to find you in better humour.’

‘Do not waste your time, my lord, for I shall not receive you.’

‘Enough of this nonsense!’ he bit out, his jaw clenched. ‘Have you forgotten that we are soon to be married?’

‘How could I forget,’ she flung back at him, ‘when you so nearly broke your word to my father today?’

His stare was fierce. ‘Very well, I accept that my actions at the cave today were not honourable. In fact, they were thoroughly dishonourable. But you were not so unwilling to fall into my arms as you would like to pretend.’

‘Good day, my lord.’

He swore coarsely under his breath, then rode after her as she turned her horse towards the manor house. ‘Admit it, this is nothing but hurt pride. You wished me to make love to you with words, to flatter your vanity with false comparisons, and instead I was honest.’

This was too near the truth to be comfortable. But Eloise merely repeated, ‘Good day, my lord,’ and rode on alone to the house. This time he did not follow her, and a moment later she heard the stallion’s hooves thundering back down the track towards the north and his estate.

She needed time to be alone, to mull over what he had said, and decide how to deal with him the next time they met. She could not avoid the marriage any more than she could avoid seeing him again. Their fate was to be together. But she could guard her heart against him, and school her traitorous body not to respond so wantonly to his kisses.

If she did not, he would leave her a broken woman when he finally returned to court. Wolf would take his beautiful and skilled mistresses to bed, and not care one jot how it hurt his wife back at home.

She must learn to be cold, to separate her heart from the clamouring desires of her body. Just as Wolf did.

When she entered the hall, saddle-sore and weary, she found a slender young woman with slanted blue eyes and hair the colour of ripe corn waiting for her. Eloise looked at her, confused, then suddenly realised it was her younger sister.

‘Susannah!’ she cried, and embraced the girl with undisguised joy. ‘I cannot believe how you have grown! Why, you are almost as tall as me.’

‘I’m not a little girl anymore,’ Susannah agreed, laughing. ‘I am eighteen now, and bored of this place where nothing exciting ever happens. I have missed you so much, Eloise. Will you take me with you to court when you return?’

‘But have you not heard?’ Eloise was surprised. ‘I am to be married to Lord Wolf within the month.’

‘Oh, I know all about that. His lordship came to see Father at Yuletide.’ Her sister laughed at Eloise’s expression. ‘It was all arranged long before they went to court to fetch you. Did Father not write to warn you?’

‘I knew nothing of the match until they arrived at court.’

‘That’s so like Father! He loves to keep secrets.’ Susannah looked at her, suddenly concerned. ‘But how pale you are. Are you unwell?’

Eloise shook her head, finding it hard to hide her distress from her sister. ‘No, I must hurry upstairs and change, that is all. I went for a ride with Lord Wolf and . . .’

‘Your gown is dirty,’ Susannah said, staring at it. ‘Did you take a fall from your horse? What is it? Has something happened to upset you?’

‘Let us not talk here,’ Eloise muttered, and took her sister by the hand.

Upstairs, she found Mary folding linen in her chamber. She sent the inquisitive girl on an errand while Susannah helped her into a fresh gown. She did not wish to tell her sister everything that had passed between herself and Lord Wolf. But it was impossible to hide that she was upset, and though her sister knew even less about men than Eloise, it would be good to confide in another female. Morag, of course, would offer advice if asked. But she would prefer her old nurse not to know the extent of her troubles.

‘So tell me,’ her sister said quietly, lacing up her gown at the back. ‘What is wrong?’

‘Were you introduced to Lord Wolf when he came to visit Father?’

‘Only briefly,’ she admitted. ‘I was helping Morag tidy out the linen store when he arrived, so saw him enter the hall and was asked to make my curtsey. But that was all. Father sent me to change out of my work apron, and by the time I descended they had already gone into the study together.’