Ellie's Wolf (15 page)

“Let’s walk for a few minutes before bed.”

She swallowed and nodded. They were alone. It didn’t frighten her, exactly. She draped the blanket over her shoulders like a cloak and walked beside him out of their small camp. “Where did everyone go?”

He put an arm around her waist. “They’re not far. I asked them to give us a little time alone.”

Alone. In the dark. With Quill. Ellie tried to slow her breathing. “Why?”

He pulled her to a stop and lifted her hands to his mouth to kiss each palm. “You know why. You brought a blanket.”

“Because I’m cold!” She swallowed, looking up at him. The mere idea of lying on the blanket with him made her breathless. “We can’t…I mean, uh…We’re not married.”

“I know.” He bent to inhale deeply beside her neck. “Just a few kisses. That’s all I want tonight. A chance for us to get to know one another better. You smell so good, Ellie.”

The last was a husky moan that made her toes curl. “I’ve been on a horse for days with only one bath,” she protested. Her own voice matched his for huskiness. He was so warm. His lips had been so soft this morning. She wanted his kiss. Did she dare ask for it? “Let’s walk a little more,” she suggested, cursing her own cowardice.

If Quill was reluctant, he didn’t show it. He pulled her close to his side and took slow, short steps so she could easily keep up with him. He was six feet tall, almost a foot taller than she was, and his legs were long. He would have to bend down to kiss her. Would he mind having to do that? Neal had sometimes fetched a box for her to stand on as a joke when he kissed her. His laugh always made her laugh too. In Odessa playfulness and laughter weren’t encouraged. One of the things that had made her fall in love with Neal was his open grin and loving teasing.

The dry grass crunching beneath their feet released a familiar scent. It reminded her of working in the fields of Odessa during the haying season while Elder Pringle, the man she was supposed to marry, watched her with eyes boring into her back. She brushed the unpleasant memory aside. She had to stop thinking about her past. Quill was her present and her future. He smelled of sunshine and wood smoke and man, a far happier scent. His arm felt strong but gentle around her. It was a good feeling. He was a strong and gentle man.

She was thinking so hard about Quill she nearly sprawled flat when she stepped into a dip in the ground. Quill’s arms caught her easily and held her steady against his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked, bending his head low to look at her. “Did you twist your ankle?”

“I’m fine.” Ellie looked up at him in the darkness, her heart pounding with expectation.

His long hands cupped her face before smoothing down to her shoulders. His cheek brushed the side of her neck when he bent and inhaled against her throat as he had earlier. It was surprisingly intimate, and surprisingly arousing. Ellie squeezed her thighs together to ease the longing that flared there. The ends of his curls tickled her face in sensual temptation. Ellie released her death grip on the blanket to touch trembling fingers to his hair. It was a wind-tangled mass of curls, rough against her fingertips, but his cheek was unexpectedly soft. He was so warm. And so male. And soon to be her husband. It was too much temptation to bear.

She swallowed and whispered into his ear, “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

In the dark she could see only the white gleam of his teeth when he lifted his head. He must have been smiling, but his voice was a low growl when he said, “Oh, yeah.”

His sudden swoop toward her mouth surprised her, but his lips brushed over hers with utmost gentleness. A little too much gentleness. That hardly counted as a kiss and neither did the light touches of his mouth on her cheeks and eyelids. The blanket slid off her shoulders and dropped away when she raised her arms to lock them around his neck. Her modesty fled.

“Kiss me, Quill,” she begged. “Really kiss me.”

“Like this?” he murmured and returned to her lips to nip tenderly at them.

“No, like this.”

She opened her mouth beneath his and used the tip of her tongue to slide between his lips. His flavor burst on her tongue like the most potent hard cider she’d ever tasted. So hot, so sweet. She had to have more, and she took it, burying her hands in his hair and pulling him harder against her mouth. His mouth fell slack for a split second before he kissed her back.

How long did they kiss, tongues gliding and writhing together in a heated duel of give and take? A minute? Five? Ellie didn’t know. All she knew was she was on fire, lust raging unchecked in her belly, her breath trapped in her lungs. When his mouth broke away from hers to glide down her throat, she didn’t protest. Every press of his lips, every flick of his tongue, and every nip of his teeth against her skin made her want him more. When he lifted her off the ground to bring her closer to his mouth, she wrapped her legs around him, arching to press her groin against him.

He lifted his head away from her. “Love, where’s the blanket? I want to lay you down.”

“I dropped it.” She twisted her head to try to see the wool, but his excellent sight had already shown him where it was. He set her down and let her go long enough to smooth the wool rectangle over the grass. Then he snatched her up and laid her on the blanket before kneeling over her and burying his face between her breasts.

“So beautiful,” he muttered, nuzzling his mouth against the cotton of her blouse while his hands cupped her breasts. “I want to touch you. Skin to skin. Can I touch you?”

No. What was she doing? The vague protest whispering in the murky depths of her mind was chased away by her need to be caressed by this tender man. Her shaking fingers fumbled to open the top buttons on her blouse to give him the access he wanted. His eyes shimmered, wolf-like, in the dark as he watched her hands open her shirt. Another brief moment of uncertainty flickered through her mind when he brushed her hands aside to pull the fabric strip she used to bind her breasts down to fully expose her chest. Then his lips touched one furled nipple, and her head dropped back with a low whimper of need.

The slight nip of his teeth over her nipple made her groan. Heat shot from her nipple to her womb. If he unfastened her pants right now, she would open her legs and welcome him inside.

Quill lifted his head to look down at her, and her breasts protested the absence of his mouth. “Better stop,” he said in a ragged tone.

“Stop?” she echoed, feeling almost dazed with passion.

It was too dark to make out his expression, but she could see him nod. “I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

She almost cried, “Why not?” before swallowing the words unspoken. He agreed to wait until they were married, and it seemed the darned honorable man was going to keep his promise. That was good, right? Right?

The uneven clumps of dried grass beneath the blanket made themselves known to her back, and she twitched in discomfort. Quill grasped the edge of her breast wrap and bent to kiss the peak of first one breast and then the other before he pulled the cotton back into place. He touched his lips to hers for only a moment before raising her to her feet. He picked up the blanket and gave it a brisk shake before wrapping it around her.

“You should get some sleep,” he said casually.

Was he unaffected by their kisses while she burned with desire? She was the one who’d initiated the kiss. Shame curled her shoulders and bent her head as she prepared to scurry around him. She stopped. Pride, bruised but not killed, raised her head. “Didn’t you like it? Kissing me?”

His hand moved so fast she only felt it grip hers and press it to the front of his pants. Her curiosity kept her from snatching her hand back. Through the thick denim of his pants she could feel him, a rigid iron bar pressing against the button fly.

“I liked it.” His voice was no longer casual. Feral hunger edged it. “I liked it so much that if we hadn’t stopped I would have lost control and forced you to take me.”

She rubbed her hand against him, testing his length. “Take me with this, you mean? Do you think it would have been by force?”

His groan was a growl. He detached her hand and pulled it to his chest, where his heart thundered. “Yeah. I could smell that most of you wanted me, but there was a tiny part that wasn’t so sure. And I won’t do that to you. You want to be married by a priest, so we’re going to find one. As soon as possible. After he’s said the words over us, nothing will stop me from claiming my mate.” He bent his head, and in the moonlight, she could see a fierce glow in his eyes. “I’m going to lick every inch of you then kiss every inch of you then mark you with my scent. I’m going to be inside you so deep you’ll never be able to wash my scent away.”

A rush of wet heat seeped between her legs. “Why would I want to wash your scent away?” She cleared her throat, trying to force the breathiness out of her voice. “I like your scent.”

Another low growl came out of his throat. “I love yours. So clean and sweet and womanly.
Mine
.” His hand tightened over hers, still pressed to his heart, and lifted it to press a kiss to her knuckles before he turned her around. “We have to go back to camp, Ellie. You need your rest.”

She allowed him to walk her back to camp. He left her in front of the tent with a chaste peck on her cheek. Sara was already in there, combing her hair in the light of a dim lantern. She sent a knowing smirk toward Ellie.

“Have a nice stroll?”

Ellie cleared her throat and folded the blanket over her sleeping space before unbuttoning her shirt. “Yes, very nice.”

Mel ducked into the tent. “The boys are sleeping with the men tonight. That okay, Ellie?”

“Yes, I told Connor it was fine.” A tiny pin of guilt pricked her. While she’d been cavorting with a man, her son—the son of the man she’d loved and wed—hadn’t even crossed her mind. She looked up to see Mel staring at her. “What?”

Mel glanced at her chest and shrugged. “Nothing.”

Blood rushed to Ellie’s cheeks. Her breast wrap was twisted and not sitting right over her chest. Sara giggled when she noticed. Ellie quickly finished changing into a sleeping shirt and got into her bedroll, hoping the girl wouldn’t mention it.

Sara couldn’t seem to keep her curiosity in check. “How far did you go? Did you like it?”

“Sara!” Ellie couldn’t believe the teenager would ask something so personal. Yes, she could. “Nothing happened. We’re waiting until we can be married by a minister or priest.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Mel blew out the lamp. “My uncle is an ordained Methodist minister. He could marry you tomorrow if you like.”

A whisper of desire flared back to life between Ellie’s thighs. Under the blanket she pressed them together.

A voice just outside their tent said, “Did you say your uncle can marry people?”

Ellie identified the voice as Stone’s. Sara growled. “Can’t you let me get even fifty feet away from you?”

“No. And answer the question.”

“Yes,” Mel said. “My uncle can marry people.”

There was silence for a few moments. Then a dozen wolves lifted their voices in a joyful chorus of howls that sent a shiver down Ellie’s spine. Tomorrow she would marry Quill Wolfe, and tomorrow night she wouldn’t be sharing a tent with Sara and Mel.

“There it is!”

Ellie smiled at the happy note of excitement in Mel’s voice behind her. They rode under the arched gate to the Flying D in tight formation. Quill and Paint were in front in human form, followed by each woman in single file flanked by a man on either side of her, and Snake and Stone rode behind them, leading the pack horses. Connor slept in Ellie’s lap, and Tommy rode with Sara. The other wolves ran alongside on four paws. This might be Mel’s home, but none of the men were taking chances with the women’s safety. Besides, as Snake pointed out, the Dirk men would be glad to see how well protected their sister would be with him for her husband.

Just like the last time she’d ridden into the yard here, dogs rushed out, barking threateningly. This time, though, their barks turned to whines, and they cringed away from the wolves, clearly knowing who was more dominant. Ellie saw black rifle barrels poking out from windows. As Quill motioned for them to stop in front of the house, Mel shouted, “It’s okay, Marc! Call Mord and Mike off. I’m home, and these are friends.”

“You okay?”

Mel snorted. “No, I’ve been kidnapped, and these people are holding me for ransom.”

Connor woke with a jerk, mouth open to wail. Ellie rubbed his back to quiet his alarm. After a moment the front door opened and Mel’s older brother stepped out, rifle slung into the crook of his arm. He almost looked as though he wanted to smile.

“Well, get down then, and come here.”

Mel slid off her horse and ran to throw herself into her brother’s arms. They embraced for a long moment before they broke apart, and the other two brothers came from the bunkhouse. Ellie noticed that at least one of Mel’s brothers was focused on Quill and the other men at all times. Mel spoke to her brothers in a low voice before swinging around to motion to Snake.

“Marc, this is Snake. He’s the one who…” Mel’s voice trailed off.

“He won you in the Bride Fight? He’s your new husband?”

“Yes. No. Not exactly.”

Snake dismounted and approached. He stopped next to Mel. Ellie noticed how his body leaned ever so slightly toward her. “Mel was won by a trio of brothers named Fosse,” he said. “They weren’t treating her right, so I killed ’em. Mel is mine now.”

Mel didn’t argue with his statement, though her brow wrinkled.

“Fosse.” Mel’s older brother’s voice was flat.

“Yeah, so I probably can’t stay here long. We can talk about that later,” Mel said with a careless shrug, but Ellie saw her hand slip down to stroke a thumb over her pistol butt.

Marc shook Snake’s hand, searching his face with narrowed eyes before sizing up the rest of him, including the long black braids. He jerked a chin toward the furred wolves sitting tamely nearby. “Strange pets you keep.”

Ellie saw Mel’s chest rise with a sharp gasp, but Snake kept steady. “Not pets. My cousins. I’m Snake Wolfe.”