Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
VALERIAN
The plan was not to touch her, unless I was expressly asked to.
But when I wake up in the night to find her in the throes of a nightmare, I say, Fuck that. I tell her what I’m about to do, though, because if she said no… then I’d have put my fist through the wall.
And then obeyed her wishes, of course. I may be a wolf, but I’m first of all a person. I’d never do to her what I would hate done to me. She’s skittish, afraid of being touched, and I’d never force her. That would be a bastardly move.
But if my hunch is right, she needs to be touched. Everywhere. In every soft and affectionate way. In some harsher ways, too, sexual ways, but that’s another matter.
She needs it, but is scared to ask for it. Which is understandable.
She said yes, though. And I was careful to keep some distance between our lower bodies, even as I put my arms around her and molded my chest to her back, to her sharp shoulder blades and the sweet perfume of her neck, feeling her dark hair curl against her pale skin.
The need to bite and mark her there, in the way of the wolves, is a torment I suffer willingly just to be near her.
How can I ever sleep like this? There is no way. So instead, I cradle her close until dawn, pleased that she sleeps so deeply in my arms, with no more nightmares.
The pleasure that I feel in my bones, the satisfaction I get from protecting her sleep, her peace of mind, is so deep it beats sexual gratification, and that’s something for a werewolf whose dick has dictated many life choices.
I spent parts of my life chasing pussy or dick, so why am I now so invested in her happiness?
The thought churns in my head, churns and churns, and I’m screwed because I know the answer.
I know, and it’s fucked up. I’m fighting it, okay? I’ll do all I can, all that is in my power to get her to her future home safe and sound. I’ll restrain myself, ignore my need for her, the way she makes me feel.
Surely, nothing more can be asked of me, right? I can’t just turn off lust. Or feelings. Boxing them up and burying them deep is the only way.
Has it worked for me before? Am I a disciplined person? No. But I’ve never forced myself on any woman or man, and that’s never going to change.
Even if I’m going into a rut… or falling in love.
“Valen?” she whispers, voice smoky from sleep.
“Yeah?” Her body is so warm and soft in my arms. Pliant. Succulent. I want to sink my teeth into her shoulder, her neck, turn her over and bite into her breast, her nipple. Mark her as mine.
“What’s going on?”
“Good morning,” I rumble, loath to release her and burst this bubble of contentment I’m wrapped up in. “Sleep well?”
“I… yes.” The faint shock in her tone tells me that’s not a common occurrence.
“Good.”
“You’re… holding me,” she says.
“Yeah. Is that all right, Princess?” She told me it was okay to put my arms around her, dammit. Will she tell me to let go?
She draws an unsteady breath. “It’s fine.”
That doesn’t sound like it’s fine, but I wait to see what else she says. See if her body tenses up.
Instead, she burrows a little more into my chest, until I can tuck her head under my chin.
Fuck me…
I hold her, hold onto her, and I’m not sure who is reassuring whom, if I’m holding her to make her feel safe or to calm myself down. Her scent is everywhere in this room, in her dark hair, and I’m drowning in it.
Drowning, and not willing to surface for air.
I could stay here all day and night, I realize, lost in her. I could coax her out of her shell, unwrap her from the bathing sheet and show her ways to find pleasure. I’d show her what a man likes, what a woman likes… the many ways in which two can be better than one.
Fuck her future husband. Fuck her family. Fuck everyone who gets in my way. I want her for myself. I want her for herself. I want… I want everything with her.
But a knock on our door jerks me out of that fantasy, and I roll to my feet in an instant, senses on high alert.
Another knock, and she sits up, the blankets up to her neck, eyes wide. I bring my finger to my lips. Let’s wait and see who is on the other side.
“My lord, my lady! Mariella sends word that hunters were seen in town. They are looking for a dark-haired girl, they say, and her captor.”
Shit.