Chapter 19 #2
“Do you really think I would stop you from doing something so enticing?” she croaked. “Taste me, Wolf.”
The fingers of one hand came to entangle themselves in his hair while she uncovered herself with the other, exposing herself.
Apparently the mere idea of baring her sex to him aroused her so much that it overcame any shame she might have felt.
His fearless, brazen wife! Fascinated, he watched as the pink petals swelled and grew slick with need under his gaze, and then he could wait no longer.
He dipped his head.
Silk and heat met Wolf’s tongue. The smoothness of her had him groan in pure ecstasy.
Something like a cat’s mewl answered his growl.
Merewen sounded so aroused that he knew it would not be long before she found her release.
He licked along her folds, teasing her, marveling at how much pleasure he could feel by simply touching her.
Closing his eyes, he plunged his tongue inside her, and was rewarded with a raw cry that wrenched another growl out of him.
Had anything ever tasted better than this woman he loved?
Wild with need, he pushed her legs further apart and placed his hands under her buttocks to lift her up to his mouth.
Once he had her where he wanted, he started to devour her with a hunger that had her whimpering in moments and then exploding in a rush of heat so intense he felt it all the way to his bones.
Everything shattered in an array of light.
Merewen remained panting on the table for a long time, too weak to move a muscle. Never in her wildest dreams had she had a man do such a thing to her. Up until that moment she hadn’t even known that it could be done. But, oh, she already knew that she would beg Wolf to do it again and again.
And he’d said there were many other things they could try!
Just as she was thinking that he had not given his own pleasure any thought, he took hold of her thighs and positioned himself at her entrance.
She felt the skin of his muscular legs bare against her calves.
He must have removed his braies while she was recovering from her earth-shattering release, even if he was still wearing his undershirt.
“Merewen?” he asked, the strain in his voice obvious. “Do you want this?”
“Yes.” From somewhere she found the strength to give her agreement. He grunted, as if he could not have borne to hear that she was not ready after all. His hardness pressed against her, making her insides convulse in need, luring him in. She closed her eyes.
Finally.
“Take me, Wolf, please!”
“Fire!”
For a moment they looked at each other in wild incomprehension. Who had spoken? Then pandemonium broke outside the barn. People started to run everywhere, shouting at each other.
“What the—?”
Merewen was too dazed to react but Wolf was already restoring order to his braies, cursing under his breath.
Not again! He covered her bare legs and helped her off the table, muttering his frustration in his language.
Was he going to be forever denied his pleasure, be prevented from giving Merewen what she was desperate to discover?
A moment later, a young man burst into the barn.
“We need your help!” he cried, barely pausing to look at them as he rushed to get the two buckets stowed by the far wall.
The farmer must have ordered his son to fetch the strapping visitor in the barn and he was so intent on getting back to the fire that he barely registered the fact that the Norseman was not alone.
“Please, we need to put the fire out, over there in the village!”
By the time the fire was contained there wasn’t a single inch of Merewen’s skin that wasn’t covered in soot and she could not breathe without gasping in pain. Every muscle in her body ached and she was more tired than she ever remembered being.
Panting, dazed, she turned to Wolf. Although he was as just black as she was, he appeared relatively unaffected by the afternoon’s exertions. The grueling task of running to the river to fill the buckets and then throwing their contents over the fire didn’t seem to have drained him of any energy.
“You really are not made of the same stuff as I am,” she mumbled when he joined her.
He chuckled. “More’s the pity for me. Never have I seen anyone made of lovelier stuff than you.”
“You choose your moments to pay compliments,” Merewen sighed. “At the moment it feels as if I am made of naught but soot and sweat. Hardly a tempting combination.”
“Depends what lies under the soot and sweat. I know for a fact that your skin is whiter than snow and you smell as good as honey—taste of it, too.” With another chuckle, he lifted her into his arms as easily as if he had not just spent hours hoisting heavy buckets and clearing rubble.
“Come, little one, you need a wash and a drink,” he said, taking her back to the barn. “And then you need to sleep.”
“Yes,” she agreed with a groan. That sounded heavenly. “What about you?”
This time he laughed outright. “What I need will have to wait until you can move, I fear. I need you rested and eager for what I have in mind.”
Being so grimy at least had one advantage, Merewen thought as Wolf carried her amongst the assembled villagers. No one would be able to see just how red she had gone.
While he went in search of food she washed, using the bucket of water he’d brought for her.
Despite her hunger she barely managed to eat more than a strip of dried meat and a slice of bread before she lay on the hay.
All she wanted to do was sleep. The day’s activities, coupled with a sleepless night, had utterly exhausted her.
As soon as she closed her eyes, darkness enveloped her.
When she woke up, Merewen wondered if she had slept at all.
Her mind was foggy and outside it was still light.
Blinking, she turned to stare at Wolf. He was lying next to her, an arm folded under his head, the picture of easy contentment.
Evidently he had been braver than her and gone to the river to wash, for his hair was slick and clean, and no trace of soot remained on his face or on his naked chest. He had even shaved the blond stubble that had graced his chin earlier.
He was breathtakingly handsome.
“Is it still not nighttime ?” she asked in a thick voice. Yet it felt as if she had been asleep for days.
“Nighttime has come and gone, little one,” he laughed, turning to face her. “It’s morning. You slept with the sleep of the dead.”
“Oh.” She made to go to him, wanting to nestle against his flank and groaned when the move caused her whole body to protest. “What happened to me?” she cried out, worried. Had she been beaten into a pulp?
“You must have carried your weight in water a hundred times over,” came the answer in her ear.
“Ah, yes, that I definitely remember.” Two arms drew her atop a lean, hard body. “Are you sure no one hit me with a club while I did that?” She sighed, feeling as if she was finally where she needed to be, and draped herself over Wolf.
“Quite sure,” he chuckled. “Believe me, I would have taken issue with that.”
“Mmm.” For a moment she let the warmth of his body seep into her. “You smell of smoke.” Although he had washed, the smell would likely take days to vanish.
“So do you. Smoke and spice. Rather a delicious combination. I could eat you alive, like the wolf I am,” he growled, nipping at her earlobe and sending delicious shivers all the way down her body.
An image of his head cradled between her thighs flashed through her mind and the shivers quickly turned to molten heat.
“No, not this time,” she breathed, her voice hoarse. “This time I need you inside of me. I won’t be denied a third time.”
“We should wait until you feel stronger,” he gasped when she ground her hips against his. “You just said you—”
“I feel strong enough for this. And I am not walking away from this barn before I’ve had you, preferably more than once.”
This provocation was more than Wolf could withstand. All morning he had watched Merewen sleep next to him, wishing she would wake up and finally welcome him inside her heat. With a snarl he rolled her onto her back, feeling like a man possessed. Then he came over her, already undoing his braies.
“This will be quick, forgive me,” he growled, in between heated kisses. “I want you too much.”
“I want you too,” Merewen answered, lifting the hem of her shift with equal urgency.
“Wait, let me undress you, at least. I had better—”
“No,” she protested. “I could not bear to be interrupted again.”
“Very well. But do not think I will not take my time the next time I make love to you.” He would make it up to her, he promised himself. “I will savor every inch of your skin and make you desperate for my touch.”
“I’m already desperate!”
“Good. So am I.” Before Merewen had time to answer, Wolf lifted both her legs and settled her ankles over one broad shoulder. “There,” he said with a possessive growl, as he positioned himself at her entrance.
Her insides instantly dissolved in anticipation. As shocking, as primitive as the position was, it reassured her to see that Wolf did not fear to behave as he wanted, that he trusted her to know he was not a lust-crazed maniac who cared nothing for her.
“Take me, Wolf.”
In one thrust he plunged inside her silky depths. Merewen cried at the relief of it. Instantly, Wolf stilled.
“Did it hurt again?”
“No,” she whimpered. “Please, don’t stop.”