Alanna (When Hearts Dare Series Book 2) (23 page)

 

 

A hot tide of passion hurtled Alanna past the point of return. The razor fell from her hand and clattered to the floor. In a raw, raging act of possession, she shoved his hands aside and settled astride his lap.

Wolf chuckled.

Her hair tumbled about both of them as her arms flew around his neck. His hands clamped her wrists.

He kissed the tip of her nose, sending the pit of her stomach into a strange, wild swirling as he easily regained control. He held her about her hips and bent to retrieve the razor. He set it back in her hand, but not before sucking quick and hard on a breast.

She drew in a sharp breath.

“Only the edge of my jaw to go.” He kissed her neck. “Just a wee bit o’ cheek, lassie,” he teased in a perfect Scottish accent. “And then ye’ll be free to own me soul.”

His strange-sounding words echoed throughout the room and an uncomfortable pause overtook them. He grew silent and pressed his lips together, as if he struggled against some strong emotion. His sobering gaze penetrated the very depths of her and cast a shudder down her spine. His hand swept to the back of her neck, and he crushed his mouth to hers with a sudden, intense hunger that belied his outward calm.

Her senses reeled at the fierceness of his act. He eased her back and peered deep into her eyes. Was that a flash of pain in his?

“If I were to ask you to stay, you would never leave me?” His voice sounded raw but resolute, as if any hesitation on her part would send him walking away and never looking back.

“Never,” she whispered.
Because you are finally stepping off the ends of the earth for me
.

A long pause, and then he slipped the gi from her body, slid his hands around her, and resettled her onto his lap. “Finish shaving me, then.” With a crooked grin, his mood shifted and he tilted his head for her.

Her hips seemed to have a mind of their own as they wantonly pressed into him, searching for his hardness. Waves of weakening fire swept through her loins. His hands at her hips quelled her, steadied her to complete her task.

She went back to finishing her job. “I want you to explore my body any way you like.” Her silky whisper held challenge. “I’ll hold steady with the razor, I promise.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“No.” She buried her face in the curve of his neck, and then moved her mouth to his earlobe, catching and sliding it between her teeth as he’d done to her. The sweet musk of him clung to her mouth.

The back of his hand moved up to rest against the hollow of her throat and the soft beating of her pulse. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. His hand brushed slowly past her breasts, then traced heated circles across her rib cage, pausing as he went. “I can finally appreciate all the lessons I’ve had in this place. I can feel you with all of my senses heightened. It’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

Her lips brushed slowly over his. They parted as he received her mouth. All the while, his hand traveled down to her mound of curls, where he slid into her moist center. She caught the quick exhale of his breath into her mouth. Her soft moan answered.

A firm hand slipped up her back as the other tenderly removed the razor from her hand. In a single movement, he lifted her from his lap, gathered her in his arms and carried her to the tub.

Gently, he lowered her through the vapors, sweeping her hair over the side as he went, letting his thumb trace her jawline as he straightened back up.

Unflinching, she watched him shed his trousers, watched the golden ripple of hard muscle stretching along his back and down his sinewy hips as he reached to the stand and retrieved a small vial of fragrant oil. He poured the lavender-scented contents over her breasts. The shiny rivulets ran off her ruched peaks and into the water.

She had never guessed a man could be capable of such tender and loving ministrations. As he slipped into the tub beside her, he cradled her in his arms and stretched his length against hers. Languidly, his fingertips spread the oil over her breasts, left them tingling wherever he went. “Beautiful.”

Her body craved his touch, and her hands ached to touch his. She pressed against him, tilted her chin upward, silently seeking his mouth. “I feel as though I am about to burst,” was the last thing she said before her mind disappeared altogether, and her senses took over.

He took her by the hand, invited her to discover him. Between each kiss, he whispered his longings to her. Alanna’s response was one of aching consummation. She sought the pleasure points she’d read about, and marveled at his body’s undisguised and fervent reactions. As she roused his passions, hers only grew stronger until her whole being flooded with desire. It was as though a golden arc of erotic pleasure connected them.

She moaned as he settled his body over hers. His knee nudged her legs apart, and his hands stroked her back, buttocks and legs until he reached the aching core of her once again. The heat of his body coursed the length of hers as she pressed her hips against his. Searching. Urging.

He drew in a ragged breath. “Stop that.... Not yet.”

But she grasped his hips and deftly eased herself up, edging her own heated hips inward until the part of him she’d been seeking found her aching recesses. “Yes, now. I need you. Inside me. Wolf, please.”

He groaned and rolled onto his back, easing her on top of him. “Have it your way, then.” His voice broke with huskiness. “I don’t want to hurt you this first time.”

His fiery gaze fastened to hers, tuned in to her every reaction. Sweet pleasure grasped her heart at the sight of him, and at the complete trust in him radiating within her.

“I need you, Alanna Malone,” he whispered.

His words touched her to the quick. She arched her back and impaled herself. He held her still as erotic shock waves rolled through her.

“Are you all right?” he said in a voice that seemed to come from a long way off.

She nodded and slid slowly downward, until he filled her completely. He pulled her face to his chest and held her, the rest of her body floating in the heated water, like an embryo nestling in the warm fluids of life.

She lay still in his arms for a long moment, floating in the contentment of being a part of him. And then a hunger began deep within her, sending her body moving naturally in the sensuous, involuntary movement that had fostered human existence for eons.

His hand slid to her hips, gently halting her. He eased her to her side and began to pull out of her. “No,” she whimpered.

“Shh,” he soothed, kissing her ear, her neck, and the tips of her fingers. The water threaded pink with his exit. His hand slid down to her thighs where tenderly, he washed her clean. Then he lifted her from the tub, swept a towel over them both, and carried her to the pallet. He wiped her dry, handling her as though she were a delicate piece of porcelain.

Warm light from the fire illuminated his sultry features. She drank in his very essence, and every time his gaze captured hers, her heart thundered in response.

She reached up and traced a fingertip over his lush mouth. “Just touching you, I can’t think straight,” she whispered.

A small noise escaped Wolf’s lips. “I’m fighting a fierce urge to act like a rutting bull.” Instead, he rolled over, balancing above her. She arched into him, her legs parted, and slowly, he eased himself into her depths.

He filled her full of himself and then went still, his shoulders cast in shadow and firelight, the veins in his arms pulsating as though he strained to control himself. “Oh, God, Alanna.”

She wrapped her arms around his back and raised her hips, squeezing his with her thighs. His weight shifted. He began a slow rhythmic rocking that soon set her free, until conscious thought collapsed and sensation took over. It was low at first, like a hum in her body, but then the feeling built up, spreading to every nerve until she quivered with pleasure. Pure bliss. Suddenly, with no choice but to yield, she let go of everything. Everything but him, and with instincts as her guide, she went over the edge. She cried out his name, her fingers catching his hair, her legs crossing over his, pulling him deeper into her still.

He rose up, paused inside her and peered into her eyes. “Yes,” he murmured in a long exhalation and began to move again. His thrusts grew stronger, faster. “You’re here. With me. All mine.” She held onto him, absorbing his fierce plunges until he groaned and his hips jerked. When he finished, she would not let him roll off her. The moment was too precious.

“But I’ll crush you.”

“I’m resilient, remember?”

Still propped on his elbows, he smiled down at her, held the sides of her face, and kissed her forehead, her nose, her mouth. “Then gather up all your ki, darlin’, because we’re just getting started.”

The bright morning sun wasn’t what roused Wolf and sent his heartbeat skyrocketing; it was Alanna’s bold fingers. He lay still, basking in her tactile curiosity until he could no longer pretend sleep. He lifted an eyelid a fraction. Her cloud of raven curls spread across his thighs, veiling his hard arousal. She was busy trailing little bites across his stomach, as he’d done to her so many times during the night.

“Damn it, Alanna, you’ve got me so hard it hurts.”

A throaty laugh escaped her lips.

He touched her cheek and coaxed her to his stiffened cock. She complied, her tongue tracing a bold and lustful path down the length of his rigid flesh. He shuddered when her lips found their mark, and he groaned in sweet torment when she filled her mouth with his hardness and moved up and down. His eyes squeezed shut from the exquisite jolt and his breath escaped with a hiss. “Christ, you’re a quick study.”

He reached to drag her into his arms, only to knock an elbow against the open
Book of Erotica
. “What the hell are you doing with this?”

Alanna lifted her lips off his erection, tilted her head, and grinned. “I’ve decided to bring the book to life.”

He flopped back against the pallet and grinned. “Better start from page one, then.”

In one swift move, Alanna straddled his hips, her hair tumbling wildly about her shoulders. Her blue eyes flashed and sparked. “Actually, I was interested in page forty-three. I always thought that position was humanly impossible. I’m a wanton woman, aren’t I?” she said, with nary a hint of ceasing her aggressive seduction. Slowly, she eased her heated, moist flesh downward over his shaft.

“Uh.” He clasped the swell of her buttocks, settling her hard onto his loins. “Just don’t mention it to anyone. They’ll never know.”

Alanna pushed her pelvis hard against his in a fierce rhythm, searching this time for quick release. Her eyes lost their focus. Kitten whimpers poured from her throat. Wolf matched her desperate tempo in exquisite harmony. As her hips began to quiver and she cried out for release, she triggered Wolf to his flash point.

Breathless, she collapsed against him, a fine mist of perspiration covering her body. “Do that again.”

Wolf chuckled. “Do what? Lie here and get a free ride to heaven?” He slid his arm around her and drew her cheek to his chest. “By the way, you weren’t even close to that position on page forty-three.”

She laughed softly. “I’m listening to your wonderful heartbeat.” Her fingers trailed along the inside of his arm and up over his shoulder, and drew circles around his still-hardened nipple. “I find it soothing. You do that for me, you know—give me sublime comfort.”

At her words, a sense of belonging with someone rolled through him like a slow-moving train. He stroked his fingers through her hair, lifted a hank of it under his nose and breathed in lemon and lavender. Her parents were right—he wasn’t good enough for the likes of Alanna. Never would be. What the hell was he doing with his life? When he’d returned here after having been stabbed, it had felt like coming home . . . to no home he’d ever known. And Old Chinese had asked him to stay . . . for good. This past week, the idea had been trying to take root. And then Alanna showed up. He’d missed her so goddamn bad he could taste it, but missing her didn’t mean he was any good for her. His chest constricted. He ran the back of his hand along her cheek, kissed the top of her hair.

“I’d go to my death seeing to your well-being.” Where in God’s name had that come from?

Alanna lifted her head. A spark of something indefinable shone in her eyes. “Does that mean you won’t be going back to Missouri?” When he didn’t respond, she said, “I care for you, Wolf. And don’t tell me what’s happened between us is only a passing fancy on your part.”

Wolf bent his head and tilted Alanna’s. His mouth hungrily captured hers. He pulled away and peered into her eyes and then flopped back on the pallet to stare at the rafters. “You know damn well what happened when you took your hair down for me.”

A beat of silence. And then she settled her cheek on his chest again. “Besides, I need your help getting rid of a fiancé. Or have you forgotten?”

“Never mind the snake. Trevor and I are working on something that’ll make him slither away with barely a hiss.”

Alanna was silent for a moment, her breath falling rhythmically over his skin. “I take it I’m not to ask questions—but I will whenever I want to, so consider yourself forewarned.”

She gave little tugs on his chest hairs that went right to his groin. God, he couldn’t leave her alone. He growled, pulled her tight against him, and gave her a hard kiss with a loud smack. “Sweet, stubborn pain in the ass, Alanna Malone.” He shifted around on the pallet and rubbed at his rump. “I wonder what the hell it would feel like to make love to you in a real bed—roll you around in a feather tick so soft you’d disappear beneath me.”

“Brookline,” she murmured.

“Brookline?”

“Our other home. I promised my father I’d check on the new pipes he had installed last summer. We could go there.”

“Your
other
home,” Wolf said. “But of course.” Easing her onto her back and into the curve of his arm, he ran his hand slowly over every inch of her body. “Tell me, is it a quaint little summer home, the size of this
minuscule
farm?”

“There, in my room,” she said and sighed, ignoring his remarks, “you’ll find a large feather bed—the likes of which you’ve never seen. And there, while I sink beneath you, you can do this incredible teasing and touching all you like.” She ran her hand down his belly and cupped her hand over his mound of thickening male flesh and squeezed lightly. “Brookline, Wolf?”

“Aren’t you sore?”

She smirked and gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. “It’s the ki and knowing how to use it.” Her hand slid up and down his hardening shaft.

“Jeezus,” he wheezed. “I do believe a whole new world has opened up for you.”

 

 

The mansion in Brookline was far different from the farm. The horse-drawn sleigh, driven by the one student Wolf managed to talk into making the trip, halted in front of a two-story limestone structure filled with wide, airy balconies, a pitched slate roof, and long winding walkways.

Inside, other than the latest modern installation of a disgusting floral-print carpet covering every floor in its entirety, the house appeared European with its flagstone entry and high, Gothic ceilings. Here was a home in which Wolf felt instantly at ease.
Most likely a reflection of the Malones’ Irish heritage
—
whoops, Scots-Irish
.

It was clear Alanna loved this place, a direct contradiction to her reactions whenever she made mention of the Malone home in Boston. Directing Wolf through the house like a tour guide, she took her time recounting the history of each unique piece of furniture or wall hanging. There was a sense of her here that intrigued him, from her childhood nursery, which had been left intact, to her father’s library with its one wall of books belonging exclusively to her.

Along the upper gallery, near her bedroom, Alanna paused at a large, ancient-looking carved trunk. “My mother’s.” She flipped open the top. Colorful silk scarves filled the inside.

Wolf snorted. “So far, you’ve shown me everything but the Holy Grail. You don’t suppose it’s buried somewhere in there?”

Alanna lifted a gossamer yellow scarf from the trunk and drew it seductively over her face. “Playing with the contents of my mother’s trunk was the one thing she allowed when I was young.” She swept the scarf across Wolf’s face, light as a breeze. “Most likely because it kept me occupied for hours on end without her having to bother with me.”

“Because you were inconvenient or because she wasn’t the motherly type?”

“What do you think?” Alanna withdrew an exotic turquoise and gold-threaded piece of sheer, silken fabric and tied it at her waist. “I could be whatever I chose—a mysterious harem girl, a royal princess, or the world’s finest ballerina.” She tossed the pieces of fluff back into the chest and closed the lid with a bang. “Too bad life isn’t so simple when we become adults.”

“You would’ve made a spectacular dancer. In fact, when I saw you climbing the mizzens aboard ship, I thought that’s what your training must have been.”

“Oh, I fell in love the first time I saw those lovely girls twirling around on stage. I was eight years old and left the theater dreaming of becoming a prima ballerina. But Mother said only the dregs of society danced, while the pinnacle of society observed.”

Wolf rolled his eyes. “Sounds like your mother.”

“She refused to let me attend the theater after that. Do you like the ballet?”

He nodded. “I do. Saw it once when a troupe came through St. Joe.”

“One day I shall see the Bolshoi.” Passionate defiance shadowed her features. She turned and kissed him hard.

He wrapped an arm about her shoulder, gave her a squeeze and a grin, and headed her toward her bedchamber. “I do believe you were a virgin far too long.”

“What’s that remark supposed to mean?”

“That it serves you quite well not to be. You are now most pleasant to be around.”

“Arrogant ass.”

He laughed.

Entry into her room was admission into another world—an exotic Eden. Not one vulgar rose adorned the tasteful Oriental and Persian carpets scattered over the polished, honey-colored floors. The oversized tester bed was dressed in white—white down comforters, stacks of white down pillows. A hammered brass chandelier, ancient-looking and spiked with fat white candles, looked as though it had escaped the ceiling of some old castle. Books were piled on every table and on the floor beside the chairs. The room looked lived-in, warm and inviting.

Wolf picked up a book—
The New Forest
by Horace Smith—and set it back down. “I should’ve known you’d live this way.”

“Mother detests it.”

“Of course she would.” He swept Alanna into his arms and deposited her in a heap onto the feather bed. He slid alongside her and nuzzled her ear. “Alanna, darlin’, don’t
ever
mention that woman’s name when I have an erection.”

Alanna giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Wait a minute.” He scrambled off the bed and headed for the door. “Don’t move.”

He returned with an armload of the filmy scarves and dumped them on the bed. “I’ve a mind to be with a harem girl tonight.”

Alanna laughed lustily and stood. Holding her arms out, she waited while Wolf removed her clothing. Halfway through the process, he paused to light the candles. When he had her naked, he tied scarves to her body.

“We’re getting there.” He grinned and draped another across her face. “Except for jewels draping your forehead and a few bells at your ankles, you are definitely my little harem girl.”

She marched over to a small wooden chest and withdrew a handful of bracelets laden with tiny bells. “From my sea travels.” Barefoot, she padded back to Wolf. “Was that your stomach growling or did I hear thunder rolling?”

“I hate to tell you this, Alanna, but even though you look good enough to eat—and I mean to get there—I’m about as hungry as a bear in springtime.”

“I don’t cook.”

He grunted. “Well, I do.” He grabbed her wrist and hauled her downstairs to the kitchen, where he propped her on the worktable like a pet kitten. Then he made a fire in the wood cook stove, rooted around in the cool pantry where he found a ham, a decent enough onion, a couple of carrots, and some potatoes. Life felt pretty damn good all of a sudden. Real good.

Alanna sipped wine from a Waterford goblet and watched him prepare the food. She’d detached one side of the shimmering pink veil that had covered her face and left it to drape over her shoulder. He planned to enjoy the hell out of removing those scarves. One by one. Later.

Once he got the flames licking up just right, Wolf filled an iron skillet and set it atop the stove.

“Dear Lord!” Alanna cried. “You can’t cook with the fire leaping out the top of the stove like that. Put that little round thing back on the stove and set the pan on top of it.”

He grinned. “Alanna, darlin’, I did all my cooking under the stars. Open flame is the only way I know, so hush. Smelling good already, huh?”

Alanna laughed and reached for more wine, but Wolf beat her to it and refilled her glass, making sure he got a couple kisses for the effort. When dinner was ready, he nodded for her to remain in place instead of moving into the dining room. “Stay there. My little harem girl deserves to be hand-fed.”

As he lifted the fork to Alanna’s mouth, her eyes filled with the look of wanting him once again. He groaned. “Don’t you go looking at me like that or I’ll never get my share. Of food.”

“There are other ways to fill one’s hunger,” she replied, her voice throaty and filled with teasing seduction. She chewed slowly, her eyes trained boldly on his.

He held the wineglass to her lips, then to his own, pausing now and then to press his lips to hers and to nuzzle her neck. He still couldn’t get enough of her. Probably never would. With an exaggerated sigh, he set the fork on the plate and trailed his fingers up the inside of her thigh, to the triangle of sheer turquoise over her lap.

Her reaction was instantaneous. Eyelids fluttered and the familiar look of passion gone wild flashed over her countenance. She raised one knee, and brushed it against his groin.

“Now see what you did.” He set the wineglass down, and passed his hand over the buttons of his trousers. Brushing the scarf aside, he tipped her hips up and slid into her moist, silken warmth. His mouth covered hers, stifling her moan.

He stopped cold.

A shiver ran down his spine.

That familiar gut feeling that someone was watching them hit him dead on.

Alanna stiffened in question and looked to Wolf’s eyes for silent answer. Sending her a signal not to move, he held one hand over the knife in his boot, pulled her protectively into him and shot a glance over her shoulder.