Chapter 2 #2
And this observation was not reassuring in the least, because that dream had been particularly vivid, particularly shocking.
He’d asked her what she needed and she’d said: ‘you’, as if it were the most normal thing in the world that she should give herself to him, as if he had every right to touch her.
She had opened her legs to him willingly, and almost forced him to pleasure her.
And because it had been dream, instead of protesting or taking his place between her thighs to reach his release as a man would do in real life, he had done as she requested and given her what she needed, without asking for anything in return.
He had made her body shatter.
Twice.
When Wolf pushed the door of the hut open later that morning there was only one thing on his mind.
Please, let the girl be up and dressed already. I won’t be able to deal with seeing her half-naked and writhing on the bed.
Thankfully, he found her in the middle of the room attending to the fire.
Relief swept through him. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to stay in control if he had seen as much as her collar bone.
Virgin or not, he might well have tumbled her onto the sheepskins and employed all his seduction skills to convince her to surrender her innocence to him.
But she was dressed and her hair was not only tied in a neat plait but coiled at her nape as well.
She was too beautiful to be ever called demure but it was the best he could have hoped for.
Determined to keep a clear head, Wolf forced himself to ignore the way the dress molded her curves when she bent over the fire to stoke it with a poker.
“We are leaving,” he announced gruffly, not trusting himself to remain alone with her in a such a private place. It would be better to be out in the open, in full view of everyone. Then there would be no danger of him losing his mind and doing something neither of them wanted him to do.
“L-leaving?” she stammered, turning to face him.
When their eyes met Wolf received the full beauty of the girl like a physical blow to the gut.
He could see now that she had not been quite herself the day before, dazed and confused because of the trader’s draught.
Now, clear-eyed, rested from her sleep and glowing from the pleasure he had given her in the night, she was simply dazzling.
He cleared his throat and remembered that she had asked him a question.
“Yes, of course we are leaving. I assume you do not wish to stay in this pig sty? I only brought you here so you did not have to sleep out on the open last night but it is not where I live,” he added, appalled that she might have thought him coarse enough to live in such a place.
From the way she looked at him, it was clear that she had. He swallowed back a curse. A tormentor, hardly more civilized than an animal, is that what she thought of him?
When Wolf scowled at her, Merewen bit her lip in shame because she had thought the place was his home. Evidently she had been doing him a disservice. He had just called it a pig sty and seemed offended that she had assumed he lived in such squalor. But what else could she have thought?
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, lifting her chin. After all, what did it matter if she had offended him? It was not as if they were going to spend their lives together.
“Home,” he said, making that one word sound impossibly husky. Her eyes widened. Surely he didn’t mean what she thought he meant?
“You’re not taking me—”
“No.” He gave a faint smile at the horror that must be painted in her face. Evidently he had understood she was worried he would bundle her on a ship sailing to wherever he came from. “I am not taking you across seas to a land of barbarians. I mean my house in the village beyond the valley.”
She frowned, trying to establish where that might be, and then nodded. What choice did she have anyway? If he intended to take her with him she would be unable to stop him.
“Let’s go, then,” she said, following him out of the hut.
Waiting by the door, all saddled and ready to go, was an enormous stallion that could have carried three women like her without flinching.
Merewen gulped. Seeing the enormous animal only served to remind her of its master’s imposing stature.
Of course, a man like him would not own a pony.
The poor beast would have crumbled under his weight.
“This is Demon.”
“Well chosen name,” she muttered, not quietly enough that Wolf didn’t hear. She saw his lips curl but he did not pass any comment.
“Now, I do not intend to buy another horse just for this one journey,” he said, patting the beast on the rump.
“No. You have spent far too much on your slave already,” she sneered, gesturing at her dress.
“As you say.” He tightened the girth on the saddle, ignoring the pique. “So you are going to have to either ride with me or follow on foot.”
“Follow on foot! I could not do that!” she gasped. Was he mad? How was she supposed to run behind such a powerful animal? She would have found it taxing to walk behind a donkey.
“No, probably not,” Wolf agreed easily. “So I suggest you climb on.”
He would never relent. She could tell that his intention had been to ride with her all along, only he had thought it better to present her with an alternative to make it appear less like an order.
That thoughtfulness surprised her and she could only conclude that he truly meant not to treat her as a slave.
Still, the idea of being seated on a horse in front of him, with his arm wrapped around her, made her heart flutter, which was perhaps understandable, and heat flood her veins, which was less so.
Her only option to avoid the unseemly contact was to flee. But how? She would never outrun him. Unless…
Unless she was on a horse. An enormous, presumably indefatigable horse.
Her eyes landed on Demon. Could she master such a beast? Perhaps not in normal circumstances, but to escape captivity she would have tried her luck with the Devil itself. After all, even if she fell after a mile it did not matter, she would be free.
Or dead, she reflected grimly, her neck broken. Still, between a demon and a wolf she would take her chances with the former. Merewen lifted her foot, wondering how she was going to reach the stirrup that hovered in front of her navel.
“Wait.” Two hands closed around her waist before she could solve that problem. “I think not. I will climb on first,” Wolf purred in her ear, looming over her. “Just in case.”
Merewen forced herself not to move or protest in any way.
The last thing she wanted was to add to his satisfaction.
He had seen right through her plans of escaping and was taking pleasure in unsettling her with his sheer physical presence.
She would not admit that it was working, that she was feeling herself weaken and wanted nothing more than to mold herself into his embrace, close her eyes and allow him to carry her away wherever he wanted.
It was hard to understand why a man who had bought her in a slave market could make her feel so safe but it was undeniable all the same.
“Can I release you now?” he drawled after a while.
“Do you often wait for permission you don’t need from people who cannot contravene you?” she snapped, walking away from him in annoyance. There was no excuse for such weakness. Unlike the day before, today her mind was clear. She should not be melting into his embrace.
“No. Just with you.”
There were a great many things he only did with this woman, Wolf mused.
Allowing her to give him orders for one, stirring his blood so much that he behaved like a lust-crazed fool for another.
To his surprise, a smile bloomed on his lips.
Not once in the two years since he had arrived here had he felt so alive and no one had intrigued him half as much as this vexing Saxon did.
He knew many a man who would be amazed to hear the way he allowed this girl to talk to him and many a woman who would envy her for being given pleasure without having to lift a finger in return.
In truth he barely recognized himself. Not that he was an aggressive man, not by long shot, but he was no meek lamb either, and he definitely did not allow anyone to order him about.
Neither was he a selfish lover but when he made love to a woman, he usually expected them to take an active part in it and ensure his satisfaction in some way.
This was all new, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it, or even if he liked it. He snorted, deciding it was better not to dwell on it and carry on as if everything were normal. Surely once the novelty had worn off, he would be able to revert to more sensible behavior.
Then, of course, he would have to decide what to do with his new acquisition.
Uncertainty flickered in his chest. For the first time since Solveig’s death he was going to bring a woman into his house to live with, something he had absolutely refused to do since he’d left Iceland.
Of course, the arrangement would be different.
The girl was not his wife, his lover or even a guest but the result would be the same.
She would eat, sleep, wash under his roof. How would he deal with it?
It would be torture. There was no denying it.
She appealed to his senses too much for him to be able to pretend she wasn’t in the room.
Still, there was no helping it. He could not abandon her to her fate now, not before they had established what had happened to her and that she had a safe place to return to.
He vaulted on top of Demon.
Merewen watched Wolf swing his leg over the horse’s back as easily as if it had been a mere pony and extend his arm out to her. There was no choice but to comply. Once again, escaping would have to wait.
As she placed her hand into his, she could not help but blush.
In the saddle, they would be pressed close to each other, the heat of their bodies mingling…
If he knew what she had done the night before under the cover of darkness, the nature of her very vivid dream, what would he think?
Panic invaded her. Was Wolf aware she had dreamed of him pleasuring her?
He would have slept in the hut with her, even if she had no recollection of him coming back after the meal.
What if he had awoken to her moaning? Although she could not be certain, she could well imagine she had cried out at the height of her pleasure.
It had been so intense she might well have screamed and panted. What would he have made of it all?
Nothing.
He had made nothing of it, she realized, shaking her head at her own stupidity.
If a man as virile as he was had really heard her moan or caught her pleasuring herself he would have jumped on her and made the most of the opportunity.
At the very least he would have alluded to it this morning, if not outright mocked her for her wantonness.
But he was behaving as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Merewen allowed herself to relax.
Yes, she was safe. By some miracle, Wolf was unaware of what she had done, and he could not guess what a wanton creature she was.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. Her hand was still in his but she had made no move to climb onto the horse.
“Nothing,” she answered, before hoisting herself up in front of him.
She most definitely was not waiting for him or anyone. She had spent her whole life relying on herself alone. She had no intention of changing her habits now.
By the gods, this was going to be one long, unbearable journey.
Wolf gritted his teeth. Perhaps he should have gotten another horse for the girl, he reflected as they rode out of the town gates a moment later.
Every time she moved, her perfectly formed backside rubbed against his groin, a most cruel, if refined form of torture, because he knew there would be no release even after they had dismounted, except by his own hand.
The woman in his arms was out of bounds.
He had bought her but she did not belong to him.
He wanted her but there were too many reasons why he should not entertain any ideas about her.
He muffled a curse and shifted his position in the saddle.
Riding while as hard as stone was not something he would recommend to anyone.
To add to his discomfort, he did not want her to notice the effect her proximity was having on him so he forced himself into all sorts of unnatural positions, none of which made any difference.
Every time Demon made the slightest movement he felt her nudge at his hardness.
To his surprise, she had not shown any indication that she remembered the events of the previous night.
The fact that she had not alluded to it, betrayed any discomfort or shame in his presence, made it obvious.
It seemed that, contrary to what he had thought, she had not been fully conscious of asking him anything.
That or the draught had made her forget everything…
Either way, he did not believe for one moment she would be acting the way she was if she knew what had happened.
Whether she would be more outraged or mortified he wasn’t sure, but one thing was sure, she wouldn’t be able or willing to keep her feelings to herself and she would never have agreed to sit with him on the horse.
Rather, she would have given him a dressing down to remember.
The worst of it was, he would probably enjoy it if she chose to shred him into ribbons with her sharp tongue, something that puzzled him.
The desire she provoked in him, inconvenient as it was, had come as no surprise, considering how beautiful she was but the pleasure he got out of their heated exchanges was not so easily explained.
All in all, it was probably for the best if they could behave as if nothing had happened, because if they started discussing it, he would not resist admitting that seeing, hearing, feeling her pleasure had been the most satisfying experience of his life and that he wanted to do it again.
What was wrong with him? How could he think things like that about someone he had only just met, someone who most likely saw him as a tormentor and wanted nothing more than to escape as soon as possible?
Hiding his irritation, Wolf kicked his horse into a gallop.
The sooner they arrived and he could get her off his burning lap, the better.