Wolf followed her, not sure what to say or do, only aware of his need to comfort her in some way. Guilt ate at his stomach. A need to help her find a way to happiness, a course back to the path she intended to follow.
He stared down at her, curled into a tight ball on the edge of the bed. An apology tickled the tip of his tongue, but the words wouldn’t form. It had been a long time since he’d apologised for anything, since he’d felt any need to be sorry for anything besides the events leading to his family’s death. He hadn’t cared for anyone else’s suffering, not since everything had been taken from him. Until today.
“You didn’t have to send him away for me.” The floorboards creaked under his bare feet as he shifted his weight back and forth anxiously.
Abigail looked up from her palms, her eyes glassy, dried tears coating her cheeks. Her golden eyelashes clumped in wet, sticky peaks. Using her thumbs, she brushed along the salty trails, removing the lingering drops.
“I didn’t do it for you,” she squeaked out, meeting his eyes with a confused glare.
Pushing herself from the bed, Abigail turned towards him. She charged towards him and instinct bounded inside him. She was trying to leave, but he couldn’t allow her to leave. Not this time. His heart beat out the steady satisfying throb of ‘Mine! Mine! Mine!’ His chest tightened, his heart tender with the longing to possess all of her. Body, heart and soul.
Wolf extended his hand, silently asking her to stay.
Abigail’s legs slumped beneath her, responding to his unspoken order. He drew in a harsh breath to calm the rising need within him. She complied so easily, so sweetly, it almost overpowered his control. Her submission tantalised him to take further advantage of her. Images danced in his mind of how he’d love to use that submission, all the ways he’d drive her to release over and over, but he’d already exploited her too much.
He clenched his fingers hard into his thigh, his nails biting deep into the leather and pinching the muscle beneath, attempting to distract himself with the little pain. But the sharp sting only reminded him of Abigail’s nails piercing his flesh, pulling him closer, pleading for more.
Releasing his leg, Wolf clasped his hands behind his back to prevent himself from reaching for her. He’d already seized so much from her—he’d taken her maidenhood, and her good name. He had no right to ask for any more, but he couldn’t stop himself all the same. “Why did you, then?”
Abigail inhaled a trembling breath. “After this time with you, I know I could never be content with a boring conventional life. I can’t marry a plain, polite man who would never treat me as you do. Who’d treat me like a fragile piece of glass, instead of a full-bodied woman, capable of making my own decisions. Who’d expect me to give up everything else I want to be his wife, to raise his children. Maybe I could have before, but not anymore. Not now that I know how much more life has to offer.” Her voice was soft and light, her tone even, but he could see the full weight of her statement in her gaze. A confusion she didn’t want to acknowledge. Another battle she fought with herself, a battle between what she wanted and what she needed.
She enjoyed his skill in bed, perhaps more than any other woman he’d known, but she still needed what all women craved. Protection, subsistence, tenderness.
Holding her cloak tight, Abigail bounded from the bed, her posture straight and determined. Her mouth was slanted in a thin line and her resolve to flee him was written across her face.
Wolf stepped forward, blocking the doorway with his large frame, barricading her only avenue of escape. Fear choked him as she continued, showing no signs of trepidation besides her fists clenched around her scarlet cloak. Panic of what he’d do if she got too close pumped through him. His stomach twisted as fresh hot desire filled him. The longing to grab hold of her and drag her back to the bed kicking and screaming blazed within him. He knew from experience that she wouldn’t be protesting for long. But nothing would be different then. One more rousing round wouldn’t change anything between them. He’d still want her and she’d still be too good for him.
“I have nothing to offer you,” he whispered, needing to keep her in the room, near him, no matter the price. He should be more selfless, he should leave now, walk away and leave her in one piece. After all his pride had brought, he still hadn’t learned that lesson. Abigail looked up, her head tilted to one side.
“If I had anything to give, I’d gladly offer it to you. I’d give you everything I am, but all I have are dark intentions. No future, no home, no lands, no family.”
The words scraped his throat as he released each hated syllable, but he needed to say them. He couldn’t let his dark desires take another woman hostage, force another woman to live a broken life, uncertain of what would happen to them day to day. He couldn’t live through losing all that mattered to him, again.
Wolf cringed. He could still hear the shrieked cries of his wife and daughter as the men beat them, echoing in his battered ears as he drifted into unconsciousness. The feel of their stiff bodies in his arms burned in his soul. If only he’d never tried to take more. If only he’d submitted when he’d been given the opportunity to repent, his family would still be alive today. His stubbornness, his need to show the world his worth, had led to the tragedy.
The men he’d thought had been his accomplices had stolen everything from him and left him for dead. They’d forced him to crawl into the woods and lick his wounds, to transform into something else. A creature that could withstand the pain.
“What makes you think I need any more than you’ve already given?” Abigail’s words interrupted his thoughts.
He swallowed at the invitation in her husky voice, inciting the primal need beneath. “Every woman wants more.”
Wolf remembered how his wife had begged him for security, a fine home, affection and a better life for their daughter. He’d thought he was doing the right thing, searching out other avenues to help his family, to help others. But he’d been proven wrong.
“I don’t.”
He let out a harsh breath, forcing his emotions under control. He combed his fingers through his hair as he fought for restraint. Desire flooded Abigail’s eyes, turning them from amber to the deep russet of a wild forest creature. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t surrender to the open invitation within them. Abigail deserved better.
“Yes, you do. You deserve a man who can be soft. Who can hold your hand and kiss you without throwing you over his shoulder, tying you to the bed and fucking you senseless. A man your grandmother would accept. Who would be an addition to your life, instead of forcing you to sever ties.”
Abigail opened her mouth but he continued, needing to complete his speech before it ripped his heart to shreds.
“Do you have any idea how much I’d like to make you mine? To tie you to me forever so you wouldn’t have the option to run once you discovered the true depth of the darkness within me. But I can’t do that to you. I can’t trap you. In time you’d learn to hate me for all I can’t be. You’d come to resent me for all I withheld from you.” He’d been there before and he wasn’t about to do it again. Not with Abigail.
“I love your darkness,” Abigail screamed when Wolf paused to breathe, loud enough so that he couldn’t ignore her, interrupting before he could invent more reasons to push her away. The attempt was useless. There was nothing he could say that would persuade her otherwise. She’d accepted Hunter’s departure—she didn’t need him. But Wolf was different. She couldn’t allow Wolf to walk away.
He clenched his teeth tight, as if he wanted to argue with her, but he didn’t say a word. His eyes bore into her, as if begging her to find some truth he hadn’t considered, some argument he’d yet to realise, that could allow him all he desired. A responding need bubbled inside her.
She needed Wolf. She craved his claiming glare, his strong, possessive hold that hurt her only enough to melt her insides. She revelled in every moment she’d captured with him, and would spend the rest of her life mourni
ng his touch after he had left.
It had never occurred to her that he might be as interested in staying as she was in holding on to him. Knowing he wanted her unleashed an inner boldness within her. Whatever it took, Abigail was determined to keep him in her life.
“I want that part of you. I need it. You’re the only one who sees the real me. The side of me hidden so deep even I couldn’t locate it. You’re the only one who can fulfil me.”
Wolf evaded her honest gaze. She caressed the warm skin of his cheek, redirecting his eyes to hers. A groan escaped Wolf at the touch. He nuzzled into her hand, his thick whiskers tracing across her palm. Her knees trembled and her insides clenched with delicious friction until her mind hazed with the lust she’d worried would forever go unrequited.
“That you’re concerned for me, that you worry I might someday hold such pleasure against you, shows more to me than any soft words or gentle touch could.” She looked up at him, hoping he’d understand.
His eyes remained stern, but she pushed herself forward, forcing herself past her cowardice. Fear might’ve prevented her from reaching for Wolf before, but she wouldn’t allow herself to give in to panic again. Not since she’d learnt how much such denial prevented. “There’s more to you than darkness. There’s sweetness, beauty and love. It simply needs to be compelled to the surface.”
Wolf’s head fell forward, as if he suddenly found it too heavy to keep aloft. His brow braced against the crown of her head, shielding his expressions from her sight. His warm breath spread across her cheek as he released a slow, calming exhale. “I do care for you,” he whispered into her hair.
It wasn’t as deep as she wanted, but she accepted his words. She bit back the desire to declare her own feelings. The sentiment he’d given her would have to be enough, she wouldn’t push him by offering up more.
She turned her head to meet his lips, the kiss fast and hard, until they groaned together. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, smashing their bodies together. His fingers clawed into her flesh with such ferocity she’d have bruises the next day. And she wouldn’t be sorry. She combed her fingers through his hair, tugging the strands in an answering caress. The sign of his acceptance of her words grew hard and taut against her stomach.
“Show me?” she challenged when they’d separated for much-needed air. “Make me scream. Show me how much you want me.”
Her eyes met his, the golden colour alive and dark with desire. A wicked smile stretched across his face.
“If you’d like…” His gaze intensified, watching her lick her lips in invitation. “I’ll tie you to the bed for days.”
“No,” she spoke forcefully, trembling at the thought. A nervous, excited smile curved her lips. Her face warmed under his intense stare. A wet heat dripped between her legs. “I wouldn’t like that.”
Wolf’s face dropped, but he didn’t attempt to force or coerce her into surrender. He held still, leaving her the choice to accept what he offered, or decline his invitation. And her heart sang.
“But I wouldn’t mind a few hours.”
Understanding lit his stare. He pounced on her, gathering her close, the air escaping her lungs with the force of his embrace. His lips captured hers. His possessive kiss heated to blazing. Her breasts mashed into his chest.
She accepted his control, knowing she wouldn’t be able to remain complacent for long. She needed to rebel against him. It was what they both enjoyed. He might wish to dominate her, but he wanted a good fight before he captured his prize. No weak-willed woman would ever satisfy her Wolf.
Wolf skimmed his hands down her arms, wrapping around her wrists. Her fingertips tingled beneath his demanding grip. She bit back a cry, his hold tightening minutely against her soft flesh.
“I’m going to enjoy punishing you for that tease.”
Wolf’s gruff words combined with the tangy scent of her arousal threatened to throw her once again past her restraint, into a realm where nothing mattered beyond Wolf’s hard body against hers, moving within her.
He pushed her the remaining distance to the bed. Her calves knocked against the cold wooden frame. The sheets caressed the sensitive crook behind her knees. Her breasts tightened, as she remembered the bliss she’d discovered last time they were here. Her stomach curled, anticipating the sensation of being flat on her back, Wolf’s weight pressing her into the soft mattress.
She smiled. Wolf slid his mouth down the column of her neck. His rough beard bristled against her throat, stimulating the nerves.
“Now don’t you wish you’d strayed off the path with me?” His voice was gruff with desire and his breath pelted against her skin.
He pulled her arms behind her back as he spoke, sending her heartbeat skittering higher, and a flame lit deep in her stomach. He used his teeth along her neck and shoulder. She let out a moan, tightening her hands into fists to subdue her quivering muscles.
Abigail smiled to herself. She’d wandered off the path with him and she was glad she’d done so. She knew now what she needed. She knew what real passion was. And for a moment, she’d lived.
Chapter Seven
Abigail flittered around the living room, collecting the neglected food from their meals. She crinkled her nose in disgust at the remnants crusted to the plates. She should’ve cleaned yesterday, but she’d been pleasurably distracted. Since Wolf had dragged her back to bed two days ago, she’d barely had time to miss her grandmother, let alone tidy up.
She lifted Wolf’s shirt from the bench seat, where it’d been thrown aside in one of their many bouts of lovemaking. She spread the soiled linen across her chest, joining the sleeves together. Doubling the body over her arm, she folded the fabric into a square.
She couldn’t protest Wolf’s affections—how could she when she had no idea how much longer she’d be able to enjoy them? Each time she’d fallen asleep, worn out from their play, or turned her focus from Wolf even for a moment, she’d expected him to leave. To slip back out into the night he’d come from, leaving her to her dull existence with no idea how to find happiness again.
She’d simply have to find a way, with or without Wolf. There was no other option. She refused to go back to the way she used to be—confined, oppressed.
She pulled the shirt to her nose, inhaling the masculine, musky smell of Wolf on the cloth. Closing her eyes, she sighed. The scent enraptured her. The woodsy aroma the same that filled her nose when she’d curled into Wolf, her face buried in his chest, warm, protected and satisfied.
There was no reason to dwell on the future now. Worrying wouldn’t change it. She’d decided instead to enjoy every second she had with him.
“If a shirt can put that look on your face, imagine what I could do with a little effort.” Wolf called to her across the room, curling her toes with the deep baritone sound.
She snapped her head up, intending to unleash her own cutting retort upon him, but the reply died on her lips. Her eyes drank in her Wolf. His face was clean-shaven—the soft bristles that had lovingly abraded her skin were missing. His shoulder-length hair had been trimmed, the ratty edges severed and tied gracefully at the base of his neck with a neat black ribbon.
The change softened his look. He no longer gave the impression of the wild creature Abigail had come to know. He appeared alluring, dignified and charming, though he retained a hard edge. The dangerous gleam in his eyes ensured the polished exterior still belonged to the man she loved.
“You cut your hair.”
He’d donned all his clothing except the linen shirt she clasped. His bare torso displayed thick salt-and-pepper hair, the furry line running down beneath the seam of his leather pants.
“Do you like it?” He shifted nervously, pulling a smile to her lips.
She nodded. Her entire body constrained by raw lust.
His position softened, his eyes brightening. “I thought it was time to make a change.”
Her stomach twisted with tenderness. His whispered words hung in the air. The
mere notion that he would alter himself for her warmed her heart.
Wolf’s gaze moved over her with the same ravenous appreciation she offered him. Her affection twisted into a burning desire. His eyes darkened, calling to the place deep inside her that had learnt to submit to him and received such pleasure in return.
“Now it’s your turn.” Wolf produced a set of long silver scissors from behind his back. The gleam off the metal was dim compared to his golden eyes.
Reflexively, Abigail retreated. A small thread of fear set her heart pounding, filling her with heat and longing. She dropped Wolf’s shirt to the ground, divesting it from its careful folds. She stepped backwards until her spine pressed against the cold cabin wall but Wolf continued his pursuit.
“I don’t need a haircut.” Subconsciously, she brushed a long lock of copper hair from her face. Her nerves quaked as he stalked closer, the long metal instrument held out before him. Moisture seeped between her thighs.
“Your hair’s not what I had in mind.” He grinned wickedly, extending the twin blades towards her. The metal was smooth and cool against the overheated skin of her throat, compelling a ripple to shudder across her chest.
Grasping her cloak within the scissors’ grip, he twitched the blades. The sharp metal severed the fastenings with a rip. The cloak slipped from her shoulders. Its vacancy exposed her thin white chemise, her only other clothing, beneath.
Wolf’s smile expanded with the exposure of the body-hugging linen. His gaze roamed her curves with the hunger of a starved animal. His wicked expression set her blood aflame. The increased heat warmed her beyond the need of a cloak.
“That’s a good start.” His grin deepened with devilish glee. He raised the scissors to her neckline, pinching the thin linen between the twin blades.
Wandering Off the Path Page 7
