Wolf Bride (33 page)

She dug in her heels, looking towards the high palace walls as though for assistance, but Wolf merely tightened his grip and refused to let go. He would never let go of her again, he thought, his fingers curling tight about her gloved wrist. For whenever he did, her loose behaviour demonstrated how little Eloise respected him as a man and her husband.

‘I swear on my life, I am innocent too.’ Her tone was softer now, more placatory. No doubt she had seen the dangerous look in his face, his struggle to hold on to his self-control. ‘Simon kissed me. I did not kiss him back. I was pushing him away when you appeared.’

They reached the end of the river path. Hesitating a moment, Wolf glanced towards the pennants flapping on the palace turrets, intending to take her back to their bedchamber.

A small group of ladies was wandering along the palace walls in the sunlight. Margerie was among them, her graceful figure only too familiar to him.

Impatiently, he turned and limped along the narrower path towards the nearby woodlands, dragging Eloise after him. He could not risk an encounter between his wife and the woman he had once intended to marry. Besides, his instincts were driving him to be alone with her, to find a place where no one could see them, and then . . .

What? Strangle his wife in a jealous rage and leave her lifeless body in the undergrowth?

Wolf dragged a hand across his forehead. He was not that man. Before God, he would never become that man.

He felt murderous, yes. But that side of his fury was directed entirely towards Thetford. The rage he reserved for Eloise was of a more passionate kind, a rage that could only be assuaged by her total surrender.

He glanced back at his wife, seeing her pale face, and knew he did not have it in him to cause Eloise harm. But he must have the truth, whatever it cost him. He only prayed his bride would not confess that she loved young Thetford, and had loved him throughout. The agony of such an admission would surely finish him.

God’s blood, could he be falling in love with this woman? Was such a thing even possible?

He had put love aside the day Margerie cut him to the heart, and never thought it could blossom in him again.

He could not love Eloise. He must not love her.

‘I did not see you push Thetford away.’ His words spilled out in a savage rush before he could control his jealousy. ‘I came along the river path and saw you in his arms, the man who would brazenly have taken your maidenhead before we married, who suggested you should visit him privately once you returned to court so he could fuck you behind my back.’

She clearly did not know what to say, staring back at him, her cheeks flushed with shame.

They were inside the woodland shade now, the noisy bustle of the palace left behind, the only sound birdsong and the slow rustle of sunlit branches high above them. Wolf dragged her off the path and through the leafy undergrowth, paying no attention to the little noises of distress when she stumbled and nearly fell once, her gown snagged by a tangle of brambles.

‘Stop!’ she insisted, panting, but still he ignored her, leading her deeper and deeper into the woods.

‘Here,’ he muttered at last, releasing her wrist and stepping back to look her up and down.

‘So you have brought me alone and unprotected into these woods. What now?’ She straightened her torn skirts and faced him angrily, as though refusing to be cowed by the murderous look in his eyes. ‘Is this where I am to meet my end?’

‘Don’t be a fool,’ he told her scathingly.

‘I have been a fool ever since I agreed to marry you, my lord Wolf. Why change now?’

‘This is mere distraction from your guilt. I saw his mouth on yours, madam.’ His voice deepened in accusation. ‘You invited his kiss, stood still for it.’

‘No!’

‘Tell me the truth, is this the first time you have met privately with Thetford since coming to court? Or have there been other secret assignations?’ He stopped, and swallowed convulsively. ‘Has he had you?’

She stood staring at him, her green-flecked eyes wide, rubbing her wrist above her kid glove as though he had bruised her there. Jealousy coiled within him like a serpent, whispering the deadly truth before she could confirm or deny it. Eloise was not replying because she was guilty; she had lain with Thetford behind his back since returning to court.

The thought ate him alive, making it hard to breathe, his chest hurting with every heave of his lungs.

‘And would it matter to you if he had,’ she demanded in return, her voice suddenly hoarse, ‘except as a blow to your damned family pride? You did not bother to hide your lust with Mistress Langley last night. I saw you clearly, my lord. You kissed her even in the king’s presence. It seems you can drink and whore as much you wish while I am forbidden such freedoms.’

‘You are my wife,’ he bit out.

His hands had clenched into fists by his sides. His skin felt drawn tight over his cheekbones, his lips barely moving as he spoke, the violence he was suppressing very near the surface.

‘Yet you do not find me desirable.’

Speechless, Wolf stared at her in disbelief. Did not find her desirable? ‘Have you lost your wits along with your honour?’ he demanded with heavy irony.

A bird flew away out of the branches above their heads, startled by the sound of raised voices in the quiet woodland. As the clatter of its wings had died away, Wolf realised how alone they were. The wood was deserted, and though he could see flashes of the palace walls through the close-set trunks, he had dragged her far enough from the path that no one would hear or interrupt if he were to take her here and now.

‘You think I do not desire you?’

Eloise seemed unable to decipher his words, her eyes filled with an emotion he recognised as close to agony. Her hands shook as she picked up her skirts and began to back away across the shady ground, staring at him.

‘No,’ she whispered, and he heard tears behind her voice. ‘You only desire an heir for the Wolf dynasty.’

Wolf swore under his breath, only then realising how little she knew or understood him. On impulse, he made a grab for her, meaning to show her what he was feeling.

Eloise turned with a tiny cry of fear, and stumbled clumsily through the trees, beginning to run.

Eloise did not know why she had to get away from Wolf. All she knew was that his stillness, the look in his eyes, and the rough note in his voice had frightened her. Not because she thought he meant to harm her, but because there was something about this man that hurt her soul more keenly than anyone else on earth, and if he so much as touched her again, even brushed a single finger across her skin, she would simply burn up before him, like a love letter put to the flame
 . . . 

He caught her after only a hundred yards, his arms closing tightly about her waist. ‘Eloise!’

She sobbed, shaking her head, struggling to push him away. Not like this, she kept thinking wildly. ‘Stop, Wolf, please. I cannot bear to have you touch me.’

His voice was hoarse in her ear, tinged with anger. ‘Strange, I do not recall you turning me out of your bed last night. Quite the reverse, indeed.’

She could not answer that, but moaned in shame and anguish as he laid her weakness bare.

‘Eloise.’ His hands were rough as he pushed her against the broad gnarled trunk of a beech tree, turning her to face him. His mouth came down on hers, hungry and almost violent at first, then abruptly slanting hotly, teasing her with his tongue, inciting her to kiss him back.

How could Wolf kiss her like this and not desire her? How could he turn her to flame every night, and then bed other women at court as though she meant nothing to him?

His hands cupped her breasts, tugging down her bodice, thumbs rubbing across her nipples, and the tide of desire rose in her so sharply she was drowning in seconds.

‘Look at me,’ he ordered her harshly.

She had closed her eyes at his first kiss, losing herself in the urgent drive for pleasure. Now she opened them, reluctantly obeying his command.

Wolf’s face was consumed with lust. His eyes glittered with it, a hard colour in his cheeks, his breathing ragged. He seized her hand and pushed it between his legs, impatiently unfastening his codpiece so she could reach his erection beneath.

‘That is how much I desire you. Never tell me I do not desire you, Eloise. This is my need for you right here.’ His eyes met hers. ‘Strip off your gloves and feel it if you do not believe me.’

Greedily, she did as he bade her. Her bare fingers wrapped about the powerful girth of his cock, revelling in his length, the hot rigidity that told her precisely what she wanted to know.

She groaned and began to tremble. ‘Wolf . . .’

‘Yes,’ he gasped, as though in response to some unspoken question, and dragged up her skirts, nudging her back against the tree trunk. His fierce blue gaze scorched her. ‘Open your legs to me, Eloise.’

She obeyed, eager for the conflagration that was to come, and his fingers found her wet and ready, nothing to impede his progress.

He stroked between her legs, and her breath hissed in between her teeth, her hips straining towards his. ‘Sweet Lord,’ she cried.

For the first time, she felt free to show him the desire his body inspired in her. It was not as though she could hide it, she thought, and kissed him back hotly.

Wolf entered her with one urgent thrust, groaning against her mouth. She almost sobbed, clutching at his shoulders, no longer capable of thought. He seemed lost in their congress too, his face darkening with red, his chest and head tilted back for better balance as he possessed her.

‘Here.’ The veins stood out on his neck as he raised her, banging her back into the trunk. His arms supported her, his muscular thighs too, holding her body aloft as he waited, deep inside her. ‘You want this? Eloise, you want this?’

‘Yes.’ Her heart stuttered, needing him to declare himself, yet not daring to ask for more, to hope for anything greater than this violent, all-encompassing need. ‘Yes.’

Wolf withdrew slowly, watching her with an intent expression, then stroked back into her. This time he pushed his large cock deep inside, so deep it stretched Eloise beyond her limits, so deep that she shook and gasped in his arms. Her whole body felt stuffed with his cock, unable to take another inch. Yet somehow it was still good. So good she thought she might die from it, in fact.

She felt faint from the acute pleasure of being filled to the hilt, her head ready to burst, her heart drumming with blood.

‘This,’ he told her, his teeth gritted as he thrust in and out, ‘is what I think about when we are not in bed. This is what gets me hard.’

‘But your other women . . .’

His voice was like steel. ‘What other women?’

‘Mistress Langley.’

His eyes mocked her. ‘You mean Kate?’

Eloise was infused with helpless anger as he withdrew, toying with her, watching her through narrowed eyes as though threatening to stop what he was doing. She struggled with it, her body caught in the grip of delicious, almost painful pleasure as he slotted his cock back inside her.

‘You . . .’

‘Say it,’ he invited her silkily.

‘Very well. You’ve made love to Kate Langley.’ Her breath hissed out, jealousy twisting inside her like a cold blade, killing her slowly. ‘You have done this to her. Then come back to our bed.’

He shook his head.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders through the lavish black jacket, his sleeves fashionably slashed to reveal white silk beneath. She hated how strong he was, the power of his body that allured and bewitched her, left her too weak to push him away.

‘Why lie to me?’ she demanded, furious again. ‘I saw you with her in the company of the king. You have lain with that woman; do not bother to deny it.’

Wolf shrugged. There was sweat on his forehead as he moved in and out of her, slowly, deliberately, his eyes on hers. ‘Before we were wed, yes.’

He closed his eyes as though remembering, then reopened them, focusing on her again. She felt sick, wishing he would just kill her and have done with it. Not torture her by making love to her and thinking of another woman at the same time.

‘And why not? Kate is a handsome and passionate woman, and her husband rarely beds her. She must find satisfaction somewhere.’

She fought to slap his face in the tiny confined space between their heaving bodies. ‘Bastard!’

‘Stop hitting me,’ he exclaimed, and thrust more forcefully inside her, making her cry out. ‘I told you, you little termagant, I have not lain with Mistress Langley since we married. Even then it was only the one time. I was lonely. Hurt.’

He seized her hand and pressed it down, forcing her to feel the heat between their moving hips. His voice was urgent. ‘Don’t you understand? I was young then, a green fool. This is what I want now. You as my wife. This pleasure.’

‘Then why kiss Kate Langley in front of me and the king last night? Why say those things to me, touch her so intimately, make love to her?’

She forced the tears away, steeling herself for yet more pain. Even if the truth killed her, she must have it. She could not live a lie with this man. ‘If you truly want only me, Wolf, why would you wish to humiliate me like that?’