The Witch and the Wolf

by Tricia Schneider

  “I do not know what you mean.”

  “You have never seen a man naked before, have you?”

  “Well… No.”

  “And so you cannot tell when a man is aroused?”

  She gulped. Though she attempted to hold his gaze, she could not stop from looking lower down his body, noting the strong musculature of his chest, glistening with droplets of water and further still, his knees just above the surface of the water. She could not see the area in between unless she took a step forward so she forced her feet to remain fastened on the floor. As curious as she was, she felt that he laughed at her. When her gaze returned to his face, she was horrified to see a smile there.

  “I will leave if you wish,” she said, finding her mouth suddenly dry and difficult to form words.

  His eyes darkened, and she inhaled sharply at what she saw in his face. It was as if he were a hunter, and she the prey. But in this case, she did not want to leave, even if decency and decorum demanded it. She wanted nothing else but to join him in his bath, to explore the wide contours of his chest. To run her fingers along his skin. She wondered, as she stood staring at him, if the lightly sprinkled hair on his chest felt as soft as it looked.

  “I wish you would stay,” he said.

  Her heartbeat quickened. Her head felt light. She smiled.

  “You should go,” he told her. “You should run far away from me. I am dangerous. I am evil.”

  At the look of despair that came into his eyes, she did step forward and sank to her knees beside the bathtub. “You are nothing of the sort. Evil? Far from it. I may not know you well, but I can sense when a man is honorable and good. You are such a man. You would never harm me.”

  His eyelids lowered. “I am a werewolf. In such a state, I would kill you despite the fact that…”

  At his hesitation, she leaned closer. “Despite?”

  His eyelids flickered open, and she felt ensnared by the intensity of his gaze. “I have come to care for you.”

  She smiled again. Instincts warred with etiquette. And then she remembered Aunt Petunia had always said to trust her instincts. Well, her instincts told her one thing.

  She leaned toward him, clasping her hands on the side of the tub. She watched in silent amusement as his eyes widened slightly as he realized her intentions. Then she placed her lips on his. She feared he would pull away, demanding that she leave, but instead, she felt his hand in her hair pulling her closer. She gasped and he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, sending currents of warmth flooding her body.

  Never had she experienced such desire. She pried her fingers off the tub’s edge and instead wrapped her arms around him. He inhaled sharply and then she heard water sloshing from the bathtub as he moved. They kept kissing even as he stood, pulling her body with his until they both stood. He stepped out of the tub and then she was in his arms.

  The water from his wet body dampened her clothes. It might have been uncomfortable until he started removing those clothes, and she was reminded of the night she arrived. He slowly peeled each layer away, and he moved his mouth as he did. He kissed her mouth, cheek, forehead, then back to her mouth. She stood transfixed with emotion, unable to believe what she was doing but thoroughly enjoying each sensation he provoked.

  “Is this what you want?” He asked, suddenly pulling away. He gazed into her eyes, and she saw the uncertainty there. “You still have time to run away.”

  She shook her head. “Never,” she replied, immediately. “I will never run from you.”

  He smiled, and gently pulled at a strand of her curly hair that had fallen into her face. He wrapped the tendril around his finger giving her time to admire his glistening chest. She moved her hands over his skin, playing with the dark hair on his chest. It did not feel as she imagined, she thought, just before he assaulted her senses again with more of his kisses.

  Soon she found him lowering her onto his bed. She had not even realized they had moved there. His hands caressed her shoulders, down her arms, then her hips. She gasped. Then his fingers found their way back up reaching the curves of her breasts.

  “Jeremy,” she whispered, and she pulled away briefly before she kissed his cheek until she found his ear. Her hands roamed down his chest to his naked hips. She fumbled, not knowing what to do. She was so new to this. She followed her instincts, but she needed him to teach her, to show her what he wanted. It was as if she spoke directly into his mind, for then he took her hand in his and led her to his manhood. She wrapped her fingers around him, and he gasped.

  “Oh, Lillian,” he said, releasing her name on a heavy sigh. “I am so weak. I do not know if I can wait. It’s been so long since I have… I find that with you I have lost my control.”

  Her breathing grew faster with each spoken word. She shook her head. “You are not weak. You are so very strong. The strongest man I have ever known, but…” She pulled away until she looked into his eyes. “I do not want your strength to keep us apart. I want us to be together. I…I love you.”

  She surprised herself to hear those three particular words spilling from her mouth but the moment she said them, she knew how true they were. It was if she had meant to lose her way during that snowstorm. She was meant to find him here, to love him and to heal him.

  “Lillian…”

  They fell onto the bed and then together in a blur of movement they had shed the remainder of her clothes. Then he was inside of her. She gasped at the delicate intrusion, the feeling of him entering her, forcing himself gently past the barrier of her womanhood.

  She whimpered slightly at the pain but then his mouth was on the tip of her breast and the pain vanished. Warmth flooded her, sensations she could not even begin to describe. She soared with feeling as he pulled back only to push himself slowly back inside, further, deeper, faster.

  She gasped, closing her eyes as her body bucked beneath his. He grunted with passion and felt her muscles spasm around him. Stars burst behind her closed lids.

  “Lillian!” He groaned her name. She clutched him to her as he slammed into her body once more before his release. She felt him throbbing, pulsing within her. She gasped for breath and heard his ecstatic moan.

  They lay together, holding each other, caressing each other very gently for a long time after.

  Until, the pounding at the door shocked them both. They jerked upright, and Lillian found Jeremy pulling the sheets over her, covering her nakedness just as the door opened revealing her uncle and Lord Fitzwalter.

  “How dare you!” North growled, low in his throat sending shivers of alarm racing along Lillian’s skin. She tore her shocked eyes away from her uncle to stare at North, half-expecting to see him morph back into the wolf. His voice sounded as she had heard him last night. Not quite human.

  “How dare you, sir!” Her uncle shouted, waving his fists. “That is my niece you have deflowered! I’ll never be able to marry her off now!”

  North’s eyes narrowed. “And as I told you last night, there is no need. She has been compromised.” With that, he turned to look at her, a small smile curved his lips. “Quite thoroughly.”

  She could not stop her answering smile. She realized in a daze that she should be horrified at the prospect of her uncle finding her in such a position with a man. It was if she were caught in a dream. She cared not about her uncle and former fiancé shouting and casting threats in their direction. Her attention belonged solely with Jeremy.

  “You do not mind that I’ve stolen you from your fiancé?” He asked her, and she saw the flicker of doubt in his gaze.

  She cupped his cheek in her hand. “Former fiancé,” she corrected. “I do believe I have trapped you, my lord.”

  He turned to her uncle. “The lady has consented to be my wife. I ask that you remove yourselves from our chamber and our home.”

  Uncle Prescott looked about to argue when he hesitated. He must have seen the dark look North sent his way because suddenly he turned to Lord Fitzwalter. “Have I told you I h
ave another niece? Prettier still. Her name is Melora.”

  Lord Fitzwalter’s brows rose as Uncle Prescott urged him out of the room. “Has she run from you, too?”

  Lillian could not hear her uncle’s response but she was certain Melora had found sanctuary just as she had. She planned to contact her soon, but for now…

  She turned to North, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You do not mind that you are forced to marry me?”

  “I suppose if I had to marry anyone a witch would do best,” he said, grinning. “At least you possess the abilities to protect yourself.”

  She smiled as she remembered she had not told him everything she knew about werewolves yet. She leaned closer until she whispered into his ear. “I also have the ability to cure you.”

  When she leaned back, she saw his eyes widen in surprise. “Truly?”

  She nodded. His eyes closed, and she was surprised to see a bit of moisture leaking from the corners. “Jeremy?”

  When he opened his eyes, she watched in amazement as the tears continued. “I have searched for so long… I had given up hope of finding a cure…and of finding love.”

  She smiled as she caressed his cheek with her hand, wiping his tears away.

  “My Aunt Petunia can help us with the concoction. Unfortunately, it cannot be until spring when the plants we need will grow again. Can you suffer until then?”

  “I have suffered for eight long years. A few more months will do me no more harm, as long as we can keep you safe during the nights of the full moon.”

  Lillian grinned. “Never fear, I know a very successful locking spell, even if I do not believe that we will need it. I know in either form you can never hurt me.”

  “Nevertheless, we will take no chances.”

  She nodded her consent. “I have tempted fate once this week. I feared I would die in that snowstorm. I never imagined it would be the beginning of a new life.”

  ****

  Amery shut the door giving North and Lillian their deserved privacy. After he discovered Lord Prescott and Lord Fitzwalter had left the drawing room, he had gone in search of them, only to find them shouting from the doorway of his master’s bedchamber. He had stood, too shocked to move until Lord Prescott turned away, leading Lord Fitzwalter down the hall promising him the beauty of his second niece could not be compared with the first.

  Amery had his doubts. After overhearing Lillian’s last words to North, he couldn’t imagine anyone more beautiful than the woman who would heal his master, his comrade, and his friend.

  He smiled as he followed their unwanted guests down the stairs.

  A witch.

  He should have known they existed seeing that werewolves did. Never in his life had he expected one to appear in the middle of a snowstorm. Who would have guessed that after suffering eight years of Hell, North would have found peace on his very own doorstep?

  Thank you for purchasing this Wild Rose Press publication. For other wonderful stories of romance, please visit our on-line bookstore at www.thewildrosepress.com.

  For questions or more information contact us at info@thewildrosepress.com.

  The Wild Rose Press

  www.TheWildRosePress.com