The Cursed One (15 page)

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Authors: Ronda Thompson

BOOK: The Cursed One
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“Because he could have never made you happy,” he
said. “There is a difference between being happy and being content. Why settle for the one when you can have the other?”
He knew that better than anyone. A woman such as Amelia should have never settled. Settling was for people who had no choice. Like him.
“Are you warm enough?” he quickly changed the subject. Gabriel had found a pair of coarse Cossacks in the small bedroom Bruin shared with his wife. Putting them on had been painful. He'd hurriedly rifled through a few women's items, but the blacksmith's wife was a sturdy woman and anything she'd left behind would swallow Amelia. They'd had a strapping son around the age of ten. If worse came to worst, Amelia could probably wear something of the lad's.
“The blanket is better than nothing, but I would prefer to be dressed.”
The fact that she wasn't dressed beneath the wool blanket wasn't something Gabriel could easily forget. Thoughts of her pale creamy skin tortured him. What had happened in Hempshire tortured him. Why had he nearly transformed? He'd never done so before. Was the confrontation with Mullins what had triggered the curse? Or was it Amelia? Gabriel had seen the look of repulsion and horror on her face when she was threatened by men who could shift their shapes. If she knew about him, she would be just as terrified and repulsed. How much longer did he have to be only a man? How much longer until her trust in him vanished?
“There are clothes you can probably fit into in the cottage,” he managed to find the decency to say.
She didn't answer. He glanced at her and saw that
her eyes were closed. She was exhausted. She had to be to fall asleep given their circumstances. But she also must trust him to let down her guard for even a moment when they might still be in danger.
He reached for her and pulled her against him. She snuggled next to him, her warm breath dancing across the skin of his neck. Her soft curves beneath the scratchy blanket tantalized him. He ran his fingers through her tangled hair. She moaned softly and snuggled closer, her lips now nearly pressed against his neck. His senses stirred, the baser ones coming quickly to the surface. Was it the beast in him responding to her or simply the man?
His hand tightened in her hair. He pulled her head back to look down at her. Her lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes. She did not pull away as he expected she might do. Better for her if she had. Her lips parted. He couldn't take his eyes off of them. So sweet and plump. Then he was leaning toward them, as if he had no will to stop himself.
Amelia knew he was going to kiss her. Maybe it was
wrong, but she wanted to feel something besides worry, fear, hunger, and cold. The day she married Robert Collingsworth seemed like a lifetime ago. The life she lived in London seemed unreal—like a dream floating in a bubble. Now there was only Gabriel and her, and the darkness that surrounded them.
“Are you awake?” he asked softly.
She assumed he couldn't see that her eyes were open. The only reason she saw his was because they glowed in the dark.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“If I kiss you will you remember it in the morning?”
She smiled over the reminder of her sleepwalking at Collingsworth Manor. “I will remember,” she promised him.
His lips brushed hers, like a whisper at first before he took full possession of her mouth. Amelia opened readily to him, her blood heating when his tongue slid into her open mouth to caress hers. His scent curled around her. Warmth spread through her chilled bones. Her arms crept up around his neck, uncaring that the
blanket wrapped around her fell away to her waist. The contact of flesh against flesh was like the shock of touching metal when static laced the air.
Gabriel gently pulled her on top of him so that she straddled him. Her nipples hardened against the feel of his smooth, warm skin. The heat radiating from him felt unnaturally warm, and she worried about his leg. Then his hand slid slowly up her stomach to cup her breast and she couldn't think beyond sensation. His thumb brushed across her hardened peak, forcing a moan from her lips.
“I want to taste you here,” he said, slowly tracing the circle of her nipple.
The suggestion alone made her ache. Amelia knew she should try to gain control of her emotions. As shocking as she was at times, she'd never gone so far with a man before. But Gabriel was not just any man, and as much as she pretended that she did not believe in love, she feared love had found her anyway. Maybe love wasn't something a person could escape from when it was right—when it was destined.
“I want you to,” she said bravely.
He leaned forward and kissed her neck before bending his head to her breasts. The first touch of his warm mouth against her nipple sent a jolt through her. He teased her nipple with his tongue before taking the sensitive bud into his mouth. He suckled her and the gentle tug of his mouth made her stomach muscles tighten; then, lower, she began to throb.
She twisted her fingers in his hair. He sampled one breast and then the other, teasing and tasting until she grew breathless—until she writhed against him. Beneath
her, she felt his hardened member press against her. What she felt was impressive and more than a little intimidating, but then his scent curled around her and she was lost in a fog of her own desire.
“Gabriel,” she whispered, “make me feel something other than fear. Make me forget this night might be our last.”
He pulled back to look at her. In the darkness, his eyes were twin balls of blue fire. “You don't know me, Amelia. Not really. You only see what I want you to see.”
She wanted to know him. His hopes and dreams—his secrets. But tonight she wanted to know him as she had never known a man before. “Will you deny me this one night together?” she asked. “Neither of us knows what tomorrow will bring.”
For a moment, she thought he would refuse her. He seemed to struggle with himself, which Amelia found rather humiliating. She knew she wasn't unattractive, and she knew Gabriel found her physically appealing. Most men, she imagined, would not refuse her offer under any circumstances, but then, Gabriel was not most men.
She started to pull away, but he stopped her. He trembled when he touched her. It was a heady elixir, to know how strongly she affected him. She leaned forward and kissed him. His mouth was warm and responsive. Below, he pressed against her and her pulses leaped. She pressed back, stealing a slight groan from him. Amelia was careful not to shift her weight against his injured leg, but she wondered how long she could maintain the presence of mind to remember that he was in no physical shape to be doing what they were.
His scent, his kiss, his touch, all worked against her to steal reason. There was nothing but hands and mouths and sensation. No wolf at the door. No danger lurking in the shadows. Just her, him, and the night gathered around them.
The blanket still draped her lower half, but beneath it she was naked. The coarse trousers he wore both irritated and stimulated her sensitive skin. When he bent to sample her breasts again, Amelia threw her head back. He rubbed his erection against her and she arched against him, pressing until the friction nearly drove her mad.
Gabriel's hand slid down from her breast and he touched her there, in the sensitive place between her legs. She gasped and pressed harder against his fingers. Her nails dug into his shoulders. He stroked her, his skilled fingers playing her like a fine instrument until she hummed, until she moved with him, against him, whatever it took to keep the wonderful pressure building inside of her.
 
Gabriel knew he should have refused her. He had de
ceived Amelia. She didn't know what he truly was. She didn't know about his curse or the beast that prowled even now beneath his skin. The beast that urged him on, that gave him strength when he should have none, that even dulled the pain in his leg so that all he felt was his desire for her—his instinct to mate. She saw him as her protector, but there was no one to protect her from him. Not even himself.
The offer she made was too sweet—to forget for one night who she was and who he was and simply be together.
She was the strongest form of temptation. The feel of her soft, smooth skin, the wetness between her legs, her scent, all combined to rob him of the ability to resist her. He couldn't stop himself; he didn't want to.
Deep down, he knew it was more than the beast urging him to take her. It was the man who wanted to be only a man in her eyes. If only for one night. For the first time since he learned about his curse, he welcomed his weaknesses—his lack of control. He forsook them for the simple joy of feeling—the temptation of being only a man making love to the woman he desired above all other women. But the man in him still ruled … at least for now.
“You should stop me before I can no longer think with a rational mind,” he found the will to warn her.
Her hips moved and she pressed against him. “I don't want you to stop,” she responded breathlessly. “Gabriel, please don't stop.”
He stroked her velvet softness, the small nub that controlled her passion. His member throbbed painfully, hungry for the feel of her wrapped around him. He paused long enough to unfasten his trousers and free himself. Her moan of disappointment had him quickly returning to the source of her frustration … and his.
 
Amelia thought she would die when he paused in his
steady stroking. Then she felt the hard, long length of him released from his trousers, felt him pulse against her, and she swallowed loudly. She didn't want to stop him, but then again, she was hesitant. Her mother had
gleefully told her about blood and pain during a woman's first time with a man, making it sound worse than it must be, Amelia had suspected, in order to dissuade her from engaging in such activities before marriage. Perhaps her mother hadn't exaggerated …
Then he touched Amelia again and all doubts fled. The pressure that had built was suddenly back. She moved not only with and against his fingers but also along the hard length of his shaft, making him slick with her dew. Higher and higher she rode the crest of a wave, but she wanted more. She wanted him inside of her. She shifted on top of him so that the large tip of his member was suddenly poised at her entrance.
His hands twisted in her hair and he pulled her face back so that she was staring into his eyes. “You push me beyond my control,” he said, and the sound of his deep voice alone nearly sent her beyond hers. “Are you certain you want this, Amelia? If you don't, you had better say so now, while I still have the control to ask.”
There was no going back for her. There was possibly no tomorrow for her. She would have Gabriel Wulf as her lover tonight, and the rest of the world be damned. She'd waited all this time to become a woman, and now she realized in the secret places in her mind, she had been waiting for him. Robert had only represented duty, another way to please someone other than herself. Gabriel had pulled her heart from its protective barrier and made it his own. She wanted to belong to him. Heart, body, and soul.
“I want you,” she whispered.
He groaned softly in answer; then he thrust into her
and the pain came sharp and quick, forcing a loud gasp from her lips. He twisted his hands tighter in her hair and pressed his forehead against hers.
“I'm sorry I hurt you,” he said. “I thought it best to get that part over so we can move on.”
He didn't allow her time to respond before he was moving on. Deeper into her, stretching her, forcing the air from her in little gasps. He was large and Amelia reconsidered her decision, at least until he released his hold on her hair and his fingers were back to work their magic. The combined sensation was what had been missing before, and as he stroked her, penetrating her deeper and deeper, the pressure built inside of her.
She was aware of everything about him. His scent, the feel of his smooth muscled chest against her breasts—the heat radiating from him, the glow in his eyes as he watched her. The way he filled her, kept filling her, as he moved deep inside of her. His hands gripped her waist and he lifted and lowered her until Amelia understood the rhythm, also understood that if she positioned herself a certain way, the stimulation he'd provided with his fingers was unnecessary.
She used her knees on either side of him to give her leverage, lifting and lowering herself upon his thick shaft until his breathing was as labored as her own and his eyes flared a brighter blue.
“God,” he rasped. Then he kissed her.
It was that added element, his mouth claiming hers, his tongue penetrating her as he penetrated her below, that sent her spiraling out of control. Amelia's nails dug into his shoulders and she rode him harder, faster, until she exploded into a million pieces. As she convulsed
around him, she broke from his lips to bite his neck, gently and, she supposed, not so gently. Warmth flowed through her, around her, and she felt as if her soul had left her body, spiraling up to hover above her. He still moved inside of her, prolonging the pleasure that seemed to go on and on. Suddenly he tensed beneath her, his hands tightened on her waist, and he pulled her off of him.
She felt the warm spill of his seed against the inside of her thighs. His body jerked and convulsed as hers had done and she knew he had found his pleasure. He pulled her closer and she rested her head against his shoulder, breathing hard against his neck, listening as he struggled to bring his own breathing back to normal. It was the most glorious thing Amelia had ever experienced.
“God,” he said again.
Amelia snuggled closer against him and sighed. “I am a woman now.”
He gently stroked her hair. “You were always a woman. An extraordinary woman.”
Her lack of experience had her wondering if what had just happened between them could have been as wonderful for him as it had been for her. “Did I please you?”
He laughed. “If you had pleased me any more, I don't think I could have survived it.”
His praise warmed her nearly as much as the heat radiating from him. As her body began to register the shock of what Gabriel Wulf had just done to her, she remembered his injury. She pulled back to look at him.
“Your leg,” she whispered.
Gabriel pulled her closer. “To hell with that,” he said. “You are good medicine. I forgot all about my injury.”
Amelia wasn't convinced. Carefully, she slid from on top of him. Her thighs were sticky with his seed and, she imagined, her virgin's blood. “What I wouldn't give for a bath,” she said, settling beside him before pulling the blanket around them.
“I can't give you that, but I imagine there is a pump and bucket outside. I'll get you some water to wash with.”
She wondered if he could even manage to rise. Amelia thought of offering to fetch the water herself, but she knew Gabriel wouldn't let her go outside, not while he wasn't certain they were safe. Besides, she wasn't positive her trembling legs would support her. She hadn't had time to absorb what had just happened between them, what she had in fact instigated. Would he think less of her now? Did he love her? He'd certainly never said that he did.
As she watched him, he fumbled beneath the blanket draped around them, obviously pulling himself back together; then he rose. He grunted with the pain but said nothing. He bent and offered her his hand.
“There is a soft feather mattress in the next room. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have suggested we go in there. The floor is hard and probably none too clean.”
Amelia was thankful the darkness hid her blush. She had copulated with Gabriel Wulf in a blacksmith's cottage on the floor. She had managed to shock even herself. If he'd been thinking clearly? Did that mean that he hadn't known his own mind when he had made love to her? Did he regret his actions already? Should she regret hers? Amelia didn't believe she could if she
wanted to. Were these sudden insecurities and doubts what her mother had hoped to spare her from? The gnawing fear in her gut that he did not feel about her as she felt about him.

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