“Well, I didn’t hear any screaming,” his friend commented, propping himself up on his elbows. He nodded to a pack full of clothes on the far side of the tent next to Geoffrey.
Jorah padded in their direction before he shifted and changed back to his human form.
“What did she say?” Alfric persisted as he dragged on some clothes.
“Not much.” He felt strangely reluctant to discuss his inner turmoil over Isolde even with his oldest friend.
“She saw your wolf form though?”
He nodded briefly.
“And her reaction was …?” Alfric prompted.
“It’s not the first time she’s seen it.”
“What?”
“She saw me once back at her father’s house, the morning after the feast.”
Alfric looked thunderstruck.
Jorah sighed.
“She mistook me for her father’s hunting dog.”
Alfric continued to stare.
“She’s not simple-minded Jorah. How could she possibly think that?”
Jorah thumped the clothing pack until it resembled a cushion and then flung himself back against it.
“I don’t know. She was trying to rationalise the impossible?”
“So why don’t you enlighten her?”
“It’s not… turning out to be as straight-forward as I thought it would be.”
Jorah glared at his friend daring him to say ‘I told you so’. Alfric forbore to comment just raised an eyebrow.
“My wolf,” continued Jorah. “It likes her.”
“Well, that’s a good thing surely.”
“When I’m in wolf form, yes.”
Alfric puzzled this one out.
“And when you’re not in wolf form?”
“It’s constantly clamouring for me to mate her.”
“Forgive me but… wouldn’t it just be easier to give it – yourself –what you want?”
Jorah shook his head impatiently.
“You know why I can’t do that,” he growled. “That’s the very reason I settled on her in the first place. So I wouldn’t need to take a mate.”
“Yes,” snorted Alfric. “You just want a human marriage.”
“Exactly.”
“But you’re not human Jorah. Your wolf won’t understand it.”
Jorah glowered, but he was just starting to realise how right his friend was. The wolf was giving him problems. He had not forseen this. His wolf had never given him problems before! Even now the damn thing was whining inside him, wanting him to return to Isolde’s side, dwelling on how soft and warm she was in his bed. He scraped his hand across his face and scowled.
“It was actually far easier being in wolf form around her.”
Geoffrey shifted in his bed roll and Alfric and Jorah lowered their voices.
“It’s still a couple of hours until day break,” pointed out Alfric. “Maybe you should just go over there and consummate your union. It might make the wolf back off if you at least bed her.”
Jorah swore. Of course, with his enhanced wolf senses his beta would know exactly how intimate he had been with Isolde thus far. There wasn’t much privacy in a wolf pack. Still, he might have a point. And he might calm the hells down once he’d had her. At any rate, it couldn’t get any worse.
Isolde murmured as the bed shifted and Jorah slid in beside her. He inched closer to her relaxed body cautiously aware that his hair was still wet and his skin was chilled. She flinched momentarily at the contact and then sank back against him letting her warmth slide over him. Gods, she felt good. He slid his hand over her ample hip and across her soft rounded belly. She was so soft. She mumbled something he couldn’t catch, his wolf yipped he would have caught it if he’d been in wolf form. Jorah ignored him, propping his one elbow on her pillow and dropping his head into the curve of her neck and taking a tentative sniff of her skin. Only a faint trace of the perfume now remained. Although it made his nose crinkle with distaste when he caught it, but it wasn’t enough to nauseate or detract him from his goal. She was far too enticing and he felt the slow pulse in his groin kick in at her proximity. All that soft flesh pressed against his eager muscle. He could smell her true scent now the perfume wasn’t drowning it out. She smelt feminine and delicious. He growled softly pressing himself up against her more firmly. Her thin shift didn’t really conceal much and it had ridden up to her thighs anyway beneath the covers. He dropped his hand from her stomach to caress her bare thigh. He could feel himself hardening against her delightfully rounded buttocks.
“Isolde,” he whispered lowering his face to her cheek and feeling an absurd impulse to – what? Kiss it? He hesitated. He wasn’t much for kissing. During bed-play his canines tended to extend which could be hazardous. Plus… nipping and licking were more of his thing. She turned slightly.
“Jorah?” she breathed, her eyes fluttering open.
He caught his breath, was that the first time she’d uttered his given name? He felt strangely light-headed. She smiled faintly before her sleep-glazed eyes came more into focus.
“Have you been outside?”
He nodded slowly and slid his hand across from her thigh to cup her firmly between the legs. She gasped.
“Jorah!”
He brushed a thumb lazily through the soft covering of hair there remembering it was the same colour as the warm brown tresses spread over her pillow.
Her breathing rate increased exciting his wolf but he was determined to stay in control. He slipped a finger between her nether lips finding her moistness there as she squeaked and bounced back against him.
“Wh-at?”
“Shhhh,” he soothed her, brushing a chaste kiss against her forehead. What the hell, he wanted to kiss her, he’d kiss her. She was his wife after all. It was oddly satisfying. He pressed on her shoulder urging her to roll onto her back. She turned, giving him better access to her delectable body and he shifted to loom over her in the grey half-light. She stared up at him, her eyes very wide. She smelt faintly anxious and a little excited under that irritating scent. His wolf clamoured, but he did his best to shut him out. I’m taking my time, quit trying to dictate the pace. Unable to help himself he kissed her again, slightly to the left of her mouth and then slightly to the right. She turned her head both times too late to meet his lips with hers. She made a faintly frustrated noise and he found himself biting back a smile. She was pressed against the mattress now, caged in by his own much larger naked body.
“Open your legs and bend your knees,” he murmured as his thumb slid to press lightly against her clitoris. She whimpered and did as she was told. “Good girl,” he whispered as he circled it gently with his thumb, dipping it back to find her growing more slippery from his attentions before returning to tease her bead. He remembered how pink and pretty she was down there and felt his mouth start to salivate. Still, there were other things he wanted to taste, he reminded himself sternly, as his gaze dropped to her heaving chest. Like her magnificent breasts. He could plainly see her rose pink nipples through the tissue thin chemise. The quivering pale mounds were so full and abundant he was mesmerised by their rise and fall. He remembered how they’d captivated him at her father’s banquet and groaned as he lowered his head to nuzzle their peaks, rising stiffly against the fabric. Isolde let out a strangled noise as he closed his mouth over one, wetting it through the material, sucking it and then laving it hard with his tongue. She quivered against his fingers between her thighs, breathing hard and clutching at the mattress sheets. He had to remember not to let his full weight crush her as he rolled more firmly into the cradle of her hips and slid a finger into her wet slippery cunny. She jolted and let out a shuddering breath. She was tight. He pressed deeply, making her moan as she pressed back against him. He returned to her breasts, one large hand dragging the dampened fabric away from her lush fullness which sprang free to his gaze.
“Gods, Isolde,” he groaned seeing her bountiful tits uncovered. He’d known they were impressive but
naked they surpassed even his dreams. He returned to licking and sucking as much of their soft creamy abundance as he could fit into his voracious mouth.
“Oh gods,” she cried out bucking beneath him.
She was gloriously sensitive as his mouth travelled over and around the valley of her breasts, ravaging everything with his tongue and the hot suction of his mouth. He could feel what he was doing to her as she grew wetter and wetter with every slide of his tongue and plundering mouth. He slid a second finger and then a third into her spasming cunt as she thrashed beneath him, coming so beautifully over his hand he almost wanted to weep. He hooked his fingers deep and held them there until her limbs stilled and her hoarse cries ceased. She stared up at him, her lips wobbling, her eyes full of astonishment and wonderment. Had Benwick Price never made her come he wondered, making the wolf howl at the mention of his rival as it clamoured for him to stake his claim by burying himself in her up to the root. He shifted over her, letting her feel his furious cock which by now had its own heart beat and was pointing straight up to attention and demanding its own fulfilment. She drew in a shuddering breath,
“You’re big. So big,” she gulped.
“Yes,” he answered harshly. “But not so big you can’t take me.”
“Can I -?”
She reached with a shaky hand to touch him, and feel around his girth. He hissed low between his teeth.
Her wide eyes flew to his.
“Sorry, did that hurt?”
He grimaced.
“I’m too close for you to pet me,” he told her grimly.
Her hand fell away.
“I understand,” she said closing her eyes and falling back on the pillow. She looked terrified, he registered with some small part of his brain that hadn’t completely shut down as all the blood rushed to his cock.
He hesitated as a dim suspicion started to dawn.
“You have…? I mean, you and Benwick..?”
Her eyes flew open,
“Benwick?” she echoed looking utterly dumbfounded. “You mean my sister’s Benwick?”
He felt something unclench in his stomach.
“Your sister’s?” he repeated slowly.
She nodded,
“They’re engaged to be married.”
“So you…?”
She gazed up at him her eyes clear.
“Benwick’s only ever been a childhood friend to me.”
He let out a slow shuddering breath. So she was still a maid. He felt oddly euphoric, triumphant even. His wolf was still pushing for him to take her but he felt calmer now he knew the truth. She hadn’t been trying to put him off with that foul perfume due to another man. He lowered himself slowly onto her again, his elbows on either side of her shoulders rubbing his hard cock against the wetness between her open legs. She closed her knees against his hips holding him in place. He looked down at her face. Beautiful. Mine.
“I’m going to kiss you now.” He said warningly.
She looked a bit startled, but held her face up obligingly. He lowered his own, hoping his elongated teeth wouldn’t’ be an issue. He kissed her mouth very gently. Back and forward, over her pretty full lips. She liked it, he could tell from the soft murmur she gave. Her knees pressed in hard gripping his hips against her. Oh he liked that. If that was her reaction to being kissed, he would soon change his attitude towards it completely! He gave a soft moan and rocked his hips against her at the same time as snaking his tongue against the seam of her mouth demanding entrance. With a slight exclamation she complied, opening up her mouth to him sweetly. He slid his tongue inside at the same time as his adjusted his cock below to angle his dick so he could start the slow push into her tight channel. She tensed, but he felt her try to relax against his invasion almost immediately. He slid back around to stimulate her clitoris, needing her mindless and wanting again. Her hands flew up to grip his sides, her fingers digging into him. He liked that too. He nipped her bottom lip encouragingly making her give a breathless squeak.
“Kiss me back,” he demanded gruffly.
Demanding bastard, aren’t I? he thought with a shiver all the way down his spine as he felt her tongue gently stroke against his. He thrust hard unable to help himself as he slid further into her tight virgin sheath. She gave a strangled moan, her hands sliding around his back to clutch against him. The fact she pulled him closer rather than trying to push him away did strange things to him, making his chest feel constricted. He tore his mouth away from hers, breathing hard.
“Am I hurting you?”
She hesitated, he could see her discomfort plainly, but his thought processes were shutting down in the sheer pleasure of feeling her so tight around his cock. He wanted to push all the way in so bad he could feel the blood roaring in his ears.
“No,” she whispered and even though he could see the unshed tears in her eyes telling him her lie he thrust again, tearing through her maidenhead and seating himself fully into her sex. She gave a muffled cry into his shoulder, which made him pause only for the briefest of instants before he surged forward again, his hips starting to roll almost against his will. Gods! The feel of her! His wolf was howling now, his teeth down. His eyes rolled back in his head from the mind-numbing bliss. He tried to hold back, but he just wanted to spill his seed in her. To give it all to her. To erupt deep within her. In some dim recess he acknowledged this would be the one time he could come hard without first seeing to her pleasure for she could find no pleasure in this joining. Her sharp breaths against his chest told him of her pain. He could scent the tears that silently spilt down her cheeks. He could not regret them as they caused a savage pang of joy that he was her first. It was brutal of him, but at least he was honest. With a deep groan he finally heaved and spilled long and deep within her. Grunting and groaning his release went on and on, his hips rolling and pummelling as he luxuriated in the feel of her soft yielding body. He collapsed spent on top of her, still buried in her long after he should have pulled out if he was more civilised. He dragged her head back from where it was hiding against his chest and kissed her hungrily trying to convey how pleased he was by her sacrifice. She clutched at his sides and kept her eyes closed as his licked the trail of tears down her cheeks.
“Isolde,” he whispered reverently before gingerly withdrawing from her and moving down to inspect between her legs. She started to struggle at that until she realised the futility of it as he kept her firmly pinned. Still she squawked slightly at the indignity as his tongue sought out her virgin blood, lapping it up from where it smeared her thighs.
“Mine,” he rumbled deep within his chest as Isolde collapsed shakily back against the pillows in surrender as he gluttonously licked until she was clean. “All mine.”
She was shivering by the time his head emerged from between her thighs and he pulled her firmly into his embrace, her back against his front as he settled them back into the furs, making sure every inch of her was covered. He could feel his eyes drifting shut even though dawn could only be minutes away. Finally satisfied he dropped his chin to rest in the spot where her neck and shoulder met. He felt spent. He’d given her his seed. His spit. His wolf raised its head. Everything apart from our blood.
Issy woke three hours later and covertly watched as Jorah washed and dressed. His body was a work of art she thought reverently before shutting her eyes when he turned in her direction. She didn’t feel ready to face him yet. How could he seem satisfied with her plump, commonplace, homespun self? Yet he’d seemed mightily pleased with her last night. Or this morning. Or was that just because she’d been a virgin? Or maybe the potion was still in effect she thought miserably. She had no idea when he’d got the wrong impression about Benwick! And even more astonishingly, there had been that one moment just after she’d achieved rapture when she’d looked right up at him – really looked - and seen his eyes, those ice blue eyes and realised that had not been the first time she’d seen them that night. But the first time they had been framed in the face of a giant wolf. And ho
w could that be? She hugged the pillow tight and furiously thought. She must have been dreaming still, that was the only explanation that made any sense. But it had seemed so real! She heard Jorah’s footsteps approach the bed and then felt a ringing slap to the rump.
She let out a muffled shriek and sat up.
“Morning wife,” he said gravely, he narrowed his eyes. “I knew you weren’t asleep.”
She stared at him aghast.
“I was!” she spluttered. “How dare you!” She felt her face redden at the lie even as his lips twitched. Was he trying not to laugh? She scooted across the bed away from him suddenly only too aware of her state of undress. She must look a sight! She could feel her hair all tumbling down her back. Clutching a sheet to her chest she darted a look at him. Sure enough he was watching her closely. She thought his nostrils flared. If he laughed she’d never forgive him! Glancing accusingly up his eyes she was surprised to find they weren’t remotely laughing. If anything he looked a little tortured.
Lust Potion For the Alpha: A Hot & Historical BBW Shifter Romance Page 6
