Wandering Off the Path (6 page)

Heat built within her. Just as she felt about to explode, Wolf grabbed her hair, pulling her head back with the force on the roots. Her neck arched from the yank on her hair. The pang of tension at her scalp sang through her to her shuddering core, propelling her higher.

A wave of pleasure overtook her. Her spasms increased, escalating until they enveloped her entirely. Wolf thrust deeper, his large frame curving over her. She screamed out with the force of her orgasm as he nuzzled into her neck, kissing and grazing his teeth over her skin. She gripped the belt ends for stability, digging her nails into the leather, the final tremors rippling through her.

Her knees buckled under her weight. Exhausted, Abigail slumped forward. Wolf stilled behind her, his cock still hard inside her. She paid him little attention, too replete to notice any sensation beyond the echoing ripples of pleasure.

Wolf reached over her, wrapping her in his heat. He wrenched at the belt, picking at the leather knots until they unfolded and released her from captivity.

Freed, she fell to the bed limply, Wolf’s cock slipping from her body. She rubbed her wrist, forcing heat and blood flow back into her hands. They hadn’t hurt when tied together, but freed they tingled, pins and needles dancing across her palms and to her fingertips.

Wolf curved his fingers around her neck. The hot pads caressed the round muscles of her shoulders, down her back, settling upon her hips. His touch warmed her cooling body. With a slight pressure upon her hips, Wolf encouraged her to roll. She gave in to his orders. Her arms quaked as she used them to turn over, not having the will to deny him.

Abigail stared up at Wolf, his large body dominating the space above. His broad chest, thick roped arms and torso and the snarl on his lips obscured all else from her vision. Nothing mattered beyond him and this moment. She longed to reach out and stroke him, but didn’t have the strength to lift her arms.

He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. His gaze had lost some of the intensity, yet his molten eyes still glowed with desire. He no longer seemed to want to eat her whole, to take her body. Now he demanded so much more. Her heart. Her soul.

Her stomach flopped.

“This time”—his hand curved around her cheek, directing her gaze to his, though she couldn’t look away if her life depended on it—“I want you to touch me.”

Before she could respond, Wolf dived for her, sucking the pulse point of her neck, settling on a section that made her muscles jerk. He gripped her thighs, pulling them off the mattress to wrap around his waist. Her warm sex pressed against the hard muscles of his lower abdomen. She clenched her legs tight, crossing her ankles behind his back. Her body automatically reacted to the possibility of being filled by him again.

His smile was shaky and his breath rasped. He plunged into her, his thick cock thrusting deep. “Fuck.” Wolf threw his head back, the muscles of his neck strained.

He pulled out and pushed back into her, slow and deliberate, his movements not as rigorous as his previous rhythm but still inciting her towards the same dizzying height. The tension bubbled, growing within her, despite her prior release.

“Touch me,” he growled against her.

Abigail reached for him, wrapping her arms around his torso. She grabbed hold of the sweat-slickened skin of his shoulders. Her nails dug deep into the muscles as he moved within her.

He roared. Her desire multiplied and her chest tightened at his gratification. She clutched him closer.

Wolf increased his speed, moving into her deeper, impaling her on the bed and stretching her around his massive girth until stabbed her fingernails into the crook of his hips. His large body held her captive beneath his weight, hindering her movement. With each thrust, he claimed all she gave, seizing what she offered, challenging her for more.

She stared up at him. His jaw was clenched, his teeth gritted, his eyes closed—the picture of a man on the edge. His imminent release was sketched across the worn planes of his face.

Mimicking his dominant grip, she slid her hands up his neck, tangling in the hair at the base of his nape. She yanked until his head curved away from her. The smile dropped from his lips, quickly replaced with a snarl. A growl echoed through the dark room. He made no attempt to end her hold. Nor did she release him, enjoying the control she wielded, gripping him tighter.

She nipped the flesh of his neck between her teeth, biting down until he groaned. She released the skin to move farther down his throat. She let out a gasp, shifting against him. The movement rubbed the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex against his hard torso. She squirmed, trying to get away from the overwhelming feeling and move towards it at the same time.

“Do you like that?” Wolf howled beside her.

Her gaze met Wolf’s. He thrust in again, lengthening the brush against her sex.

Her legs tightened around him convulsively. No other answer was needed. His thrusts quickened, the sounds emanating from him closer to those of a feral animal than a man. Her own pleasure intensified. Wolf shuddered above her, his muscles shaking with his efforts.

She stared up at him. His hair was wild around his face, his expression focused. He gazed down at her as if she were his entire world, the centre of everything. It was more than she’d ever dreamt of, more than the bard devoted upon his lady in the square. Her heart throbbed within her chest, wanting and needing what she didn’t know how to ask for.
More.

With a wild howl, he plunged into her so deeply she shrieked. The final thrust threw her over the edge. Her climax overtook her, exploding from her and stealing her breath. Wolf followed quickly after her.

His body went limp against hers. She released his hair, allowing his head to slump down against her chest. His arms still wrapped around her, she settled into the sensation. It felt so good to be in his arms, comfortable and protected. She trailed a feather-light line down his back with the tips of her fingers as their heartbeats settled.

“Marvellous,” he whispered, nuzzling into her neck.

Her heart sang at the words.

His breath slowed against her flushed skin. He wrapped his thick, muscled arms around her like a vice, not allowing her to move. As he drifted off to sleep, his large body pressed her into the bed, keeping her captive even in his dreams.

Freed from the restraining cloud of lust, reality invaded Abigail’s mind. Fear swept her, snaring her as tightly as Wolf’s arms. She could feel the consequences for wandering down this path gnawing at the edges of her mind. There was no way back to the safety and security she’d once known, no course back to what she used to be, after all she’d experienced. And, worse, she didn’t know if she wanted to go back.

In the distance, two wolves howled deep within the forest. Their mournful cries filled the night sky and vibrated into the hollows of her heart.

Abigail slipped Wolf’s arm from around her waist, escaping his large body spread across the mattress. She eased from the bed, and stared back at him. His legs and arms were stretched across the expanse with masculine ease, giving her a satisfying picture as she fled the sheets.

She dropped to the floor, her entire body aching from new use as she bent. She sifted through the clothing discarded beside the bed to find her own garments. Grasping her chemise, she shook it to remove the wrinkles, and she slipped the linen over her head, pushing her arms into the sleeves.

She had no idea how long she and Wolf had stayed in bed—though darkness still peeked through the cracks in the door, the movement of time was unperceivable. Their lovemaking had been so overwhelming, she was sure it should have taken several nights wrapped around each other to experience so much. Yet, in her mind, it had moved so quickly that it appeared as only a few minutes, whirling through her memory in a blur of sensation too intense to contain.

She brushed against the hood of her scarlet cloak on her way out of the bedroom door. She bent to pick up the thick fabric then pulled the crimson cloth over her shoulders. Sliding open the door, she slipped from the chamber as soundlessly as possible.

Unease settled over her as Abigail moved through the living area. The fire she’d built still glowed in the main room, dull creaks and pops emanating from the hearth. She shifted about the familiar setting in the flickering light searching for food, suddenly ravenous.

The numbness she normally awoke with—a sense of incompleteness and despondency—was replaced with a fluttering deep in her stomach, an unease she couldn’t shake. When Wolf had been touching her she hadn’t considered what would happen next. It hadn’t mattered. But now she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Would Wolf leave her, abandoning her like a wilted flower?
Do I want him to stay?

Abigail found the basket she’d brought from market. The supplies she had intended to share with her grandmother. The rewards for their diligent efforts spinning wool for the local gentry tempted her from the table. At the empty roll of her stomach, she repressed any concern over how her grandmother would respond to Abigail consuming the supplies without her. They looked too good to resist.

She had to keep thinking as though her grandmother were going to come home any moment. Because the alternative was too difficult to imagine. Abigail wasn’t sure she could survive it. She had no interest in trying, until she had to.

She pulled a large knife from the kitchen block then severed the apple cake into eight equal pieces. She picked up the closest wedge and crammed the moist cake into her mouth. Small crumbs fell from her lips to gather upon her breast. She swept them delicately from her, gasping when she unintentionally brushed her still-raw nipples.

Why had she allowed him to treat her so? Surely she would never have tolerated such handling from anyone else. She hadn’t only permitted him to use her, she’d enjoyed it. The memories of his callous use of her body caused her to shake with exhilaration.

She grabbed two clay cups and set them on the table. She pulled the cork from the wine bottle and poured a generous helping of the rich ruby liquid into each cup, placing the other on the table for Wolf to enjoy later. She brought the cup to her lips and gulped down the rich drink, washing the remaining cake down her throat.

Abigail gathered the rest of the foodstuffs she could find. When Wolf woke, his stomach would probably rumble twice as long as her tummy had. He didn’t seem like the type of man who’d be denied any of his hungers. A shiver raced up her spine at the idea of fulfilling any of his appetites.

Everywhere she looked, she found traces of Wolf. Traces she might never be able to erase. She’d thought one memory might be enough, to save for the rest of her life, to return to whenever she needed to remember truly living, but she was starting to see it differently. One moment with Wolf was nowhere near enough.

Distracted, she didn’t notice Wolf stumble into the room until his large yawn alerted her to his presence. She turned towards him to ask him what he’d like to eat, but the sight of him stole all the air from her lungs.

He stood before her completely bare. His torso was stretched, his back arched, his fists rubbing the last dregs of slumber from his eyes. Thick hair covered his chest and under his arms. She trailed her gaze down his body, following the path of salt and pepper down to his groin.

Wolf was even more imposing naked than he was clothed. She heated, remembering those large, thick arms wrapped around her, holding her down as she screamed. Her body tingled. It would take only moments before her defences would yield to the assault she was already longing for him to mount.

She swallowed. Her heart beat out a pattern of possession, Wolf’s domination thumping with each throb. Even as a frail old woman she was sure she’d remember how it had felt to be with him, the commanding look in his eyes as he’d approached her on the woodland path.

“Hungry?” Her voice shook. Wolf, not acknowledging the change, approached the small feast she’d prepared.

“Yes,” he growled, surveying the table with the same ravenous expression he’d used upon her naked body.

Abigail shook her head.
What a fool I am!
If only she could decide what she wanted, getting it would be far easier. She shouldn’t want to be treated roughly, she shouldn’t allow Wolf to do so, but how could she fight his touch when he’d given her more satisfaction than she’d ever dreamt of?

Beside her, Wolf scooped two pieces of the apple cake into his mouth, appearing to swallow them whole. Aware of his gaze, she turned to find his eyes upon her. The twin irises like two distinctive spots of fire, assessing her body, her expression, while silently seeking more.

Wolf sliced two thin wedges of cheese from the wheel. His gaze fixed on her. The space on the bench next to Wolf’s powerful body looked so inviting. Her knees urged her to collapse beside him. She fought it, unsure what such intimate contact might cause her to feel.

As if understanding her unease, Wolf clasped the edge of her cloak and tugged the fabric with enough force to draw her down to the bench. His hot thigh pressed up against hers. Her eyes dropped to his strong hands holding her. Hands that could tempt, tease and sweetly torment her all night. She connected with the golden depth of his eyes as she dropped to the seat. His stare implored her, searching for some sign in her eyes, for more than she wanted to divulge. And as much as she wanted to look away from him, she couldn’t.