His fingers tightened on my skin.
“Well? Has he?”
“No, it’s—it’s my intuition,” he said.
“I think it might actually be something else,” I said.
“What’s that?”
I looked back at him over my shoulder. “Jealousy.”
“Jealousy? You think I am swayed by mere jealousy?”
“I’m disappointed if you’re not, actually.”
He growled a little, and then he pulled my mouth against his. He was a little rough and it was exactly what I wanted. I wanted rough, I wanted passionate, I wanted a lack of tedious human rules and controlled emotions. I wanted to fuck like forest beasts.
His tongue shoved into mine, and I shoved back, his hands still gripping me from behind, but now he pulled me off the stool and onto his lap, his hard cock against my ass—well, through an annoying sea of skirts. I clutched my bodice, wishing it was easier to rip it all off, but after a moment I succumbed to the fact that I couldn’t, and reached back to grab a fistful of his hair, holding him against me. Our tongues wrestled the way I wished our entire bodies would.
He drew back after such a long kiss that my lips felt a little swollen. I was sure he was going to say something to ruin it, a “We shouldn’t” or “They’ll hear us”—although no one was home but the servants right now—or “Woman, have you no shame?”
“Is this what you want?” he asked, nudging his cock against me.
“Yes…”
He tore aside the sheer cloth that covered my cleavage, and he slipped his fingers under the edge of my clothes. He lifted my breasts up so the nipples were exposed over my low-cut dress, and twisted them in his fingers, dropping kisses down my bare neck. I shivered. “Oh, sweet trees and flowers, yes…,” I breathed. I spread my legs as his rough touch built up my desire. Maybe these clothes had a certain allure. Seeing his large ink stained hands invading the ruffles and lifting up my breasts like treasures he was surfacing from the bed of the ocean, I was more aroused than ever. I imagined how long it would take him to strip off all the pieces and discover all my naked skin. I imagined his hands traveling over all of the smooth surfaces of my human self, and then we would shift and discover each other all over again.
He played with my breasts until I was begging for more and then he pulled up my skirts roughly with a growl of pure lust, finding my naked pussy underneath.
“No underthings?” he grunted.
“Only ten thousand petticoats. No one gave me anything else.”
“Do any of these girls wear underwear in this town?”
“Probably not the custom, is it?”
“Is that so?” He groaned, stroking me a moment, and then I felt him unbuttoning his trousers under me, letting his rigid manhood spring out to meet me. Now, you’re thinking like a wolf, I thought, almost giddy that I had broken him. Yes, my sweet scholar, I know what you really are.
“I want you,” he said. “You should be mine.”
“I am yours.”
“Not Patrick’s.” He looked at me with his eyelids heavy, blinking with lust, his golden eyes like low flames. His hair was mussed, and I couldn’t resist stroking one of his sideburns with the side of my hand. “Fersa, promise me you won’t go with him.”
I paused. “Father expects it…”
He slid his cock between the lips of my pussy, teasing me with penetration. He grabbed my knees and spread them wider. “I don’t trust Patrick Rafferty. Promise me.”
I was going half insane with wanting him, but at the same time, Father expected so much of me. “He saved me the other day.”
“Aye, and he wants something from you.” He lifted me up by the waist and shoved my skirts down. He gave me a measured look. “I won’t risk my reputation for you unless you promise me…”
“Oh?” Before he could button his trousers, I took his cock in my hand and stroked the entire length, once and then twice, tightening my grip on the second. A bead of liquid appeared at the tip.
His whole body twitched like he was about to grab me and shove me against the table. I knelt and wrapped my mouth around his cock. My breasts were still lifted over the edge of my dress, and I made sure he could see them too, lifting them up to him as I slicked my tongue over the head.
He gripped the table. “You little bitch.”
“So I am,” I said, before I took his length down into my throat, sliding my tongue all along his skin. I was spurred on by the pained growl he made. I pulled my mouth back and hugged his cock between my breasts. “You’re a wolf, Agnar. It’s a crime for you to be anything else.”
“Curses…”
I resumed my work, up and down his shaft until I knew he was helpless to resist. I knew he was incapable of stopping me now and the thought that I had done this to me only encouraged me. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and took control, stroking his cock along my tongue and clenching a handful of one of my bare breasts. He wasn’t gentle anymore. Wolves weren’t gentle. I tasted him, all sweet musk and male flesh. I was starving for him.
Somewhere in the house, a door shut and I heard Katherine call for some servant. I stiffened with panic and he held my head, his seed spurting into my mouth as he let out a low moan, digging his fingers deeper into my hair, stroking my scalp. I licked my lips, savoring every drop, missing the wild, earthy tastes of an animal life. Then he withdrew quickly, buttoning his trousers, as I swallowed hard, one palm on the floor.
“I want more,” I whispered.
He looked down at me with a wild look. “I would never have done that if you hadn’t—“ He sputtered, “I could lose—everything. Everything, again.”
I stood up, punching my skirts into place. “Again?”
“I already lost my clan because I wanted to learn. They’ve shunned me. This is all I have now.”
“Well, I don’t shun you for learning,” I said. “I just—can’t ignore this feeling.”
He reached for my hand. “I have resisted this for a long time. But—it does grow more difficult every day. Maybe it’s time to settle down. If I could have your hand properly…”
“You could ask me to the dance, Agnar. Before Patrick does.”
“It would raise eyebrows.”
“Well, what are you thinking you’ll do then? You’re very confusing. And to be honest, sometimes I think Patrick understands me better than you do.”
“Impossible,” he snapped.
“When I go to visit my grandmother, will you meet me in the woods? Will you run with me, as a wolf?”
He winced. “If I did—“
“If you’re really a wolf, and you really accept that side of me, you’d better think of some way to prove it.”
Chapter Nine
Fersa
By the night of the yule ball, I was full of anxiety and excitement. Agnar kept coming for lessons but he was so distant now that I couldn’t find any way to crack him, unless perhaps if I shoved my hand down his trousers (which I was very tempted to do). I was so annoyed with him that I thought Patrick’s company would be a relief.
I was starting to come into heat, that was certain. It stirred inside me gently at first, a rising sense of wild abandon. My sense of smell grew stronger, even in human form. All the men tonight were going to smell delicious, I thought. Patrick included.
I was a little worried I would have a hard time maintaining control, but when I looked in the mirror I just looked small and almost sweet in my gown, with a necklace of blue stones Katherine let me borrow. Katherine and Father were both dressed in their best, and so was I. We took the carriage down streets that glowed with lantern-light cast on sparkling snow. It was so enchanting that I felt like a princess myself. I do need to learn to write so I can tell Ellara about this, I thought.
But thoughts of writing just gave me that annoying urge to show Agnar I was as good as him. I didn’t want to be a scholar with superior airs who forgot what being a wolf was like, and yet I couldn’t seem to help competing with him, hating him
a little bit for knowing so much more than I did—and wanting him, more than anything or anyone.
“You look like something’s troubling you,” Katherine said. “On such a night? It’s going to be great fun.”
“No, nothing’s troubling me.”
“You seem to get along very well with Patrick,” Father said, with a hint of hopefulness.
“I do. It’s not Patrick. I’m fine.” I really wasn’t used to having people paying so much attention to my moods and asking me so many questions about my future.
The dance was held in a great hall that usually functioned as sort of a gentleman’s club, but tonight it was for everyone. The white brick building was splendidly decorated with wreaths and greenery. Lanterns blazed all along the approach. The carriage dropped us off at the entrance. The air smelled of woodsmoke. Everyone was merry and comparing dresses. A servant took my cloak.
I wished I had some female friends here. The younger girls in town had mostly avoided me. I tugged at the fingers of my gloves, watching them all chattering while I stood by the wall.
Patrick rescued me with a gallant bow. “You look beautiful tonight.”
“So do you. Handsome, I mean.” I couldn’t help grinning. He was wearing a green coat with gold buttons, but he had not groomed his hair or thrown on cologne as much as some of the other men. He looked ready to escape.
“Crowded in here,” he said.
“Yes…”
“I don’t love large gatherings much. Nor these dances. I hear your lessons are going well, though?”
“Aye, I do like dancing.”
“Then I will make sure you have plenty of dancing tonight. But I’m looking forward to our escape.” He winked.
He wants something from you. Agnar’s voice was in my head. Curse him. My intuition was surely as good as his, and I didn’t feel any sense of wrongness with Patrick.
The only trouble, really, was the rising strength of my desire. A part of me liked the courting and the teasing. I just wondered how long I could stand it.
We each had a cup of syllabub, sweet and frothy and heady, and Patrick introduced me to some friends of his with his hand around my shoulders. Then he led me to the dance floor, our arms extended in one graceful line, as other couples did the same. I had to concentrate hard on the steps I’d practiced, walking around him and curtseying before he took me in his arms. He gazed at me like he was enchanted.
Over his shoulder, I saw Agnar having a glass of wine, standing next to an old suit of armor.
I stumbled.
“Sorry—“
“It’s all right,” Patrick said. “You’re quite a good dancer, actually.”
“I’m probably not used to drinking.”
“A girl who can’t hold her liquor should be careful. Some gentlemen might take advantage.”
“They’ll have to get past you first, won’t they?”
“Ha! That’s right.” He spun me around. “Fersa…you’re so…refreshing.”
I blushed. “That’s just another word for ‘strange’, isn’t it?”
“I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”
That sobered me a little. He assumed we were as good as married already, it seemed. “You’re not worried that I might turn into a wolf and bite you?”
He laughed harder, and a blonde girl dancing by looking at him curiously. “I think I can handle you. I like my girls dangerous, not kept like hothouse flowers. I’m very much looking forward to our hunt.”
I hoped Agnar couldn’t hear us from his vantage point. Wolves had good ears. “Shh. I don’t want my father and Katherine catching wind of our plans.”
“They’re all the way over there!” He gestured and yes, they were all the way across the room. He must have sensed wariness in my tone. “Afraid for your reputation? It won’t matter when you’re mine. We’re well matched. Maybe other men are afraid to share their bed with a girl who might turn into a wolf, but I’m not. I’ll keep your instincts well tamed, lass.”
“Oh my.” I tried to sound demure. I didn’t really want to be tamed, did I? My yearning little body still responded as if it did, growing hot in all the right places.
Of course, my body just wanted everything right now. And it was only going to get worse in days to come.
Chapter Ten
Agnar
She knew wolves had sharp hearing.
And she must have known I could not help but pay attention.
Did she know what she was saying?
She was going to hunt a fellow wolf.
After she had lost her own family to the elves? Didn’t she stop to consider that maybe the white wolf didn’t deserve his fate either?
My pulse was racing, sweat soaking my shirt. I was suddenly sharply aware of what a dangerous game I was playing. I was trying to fit in somewhere I would never fit in. I was getting too close to a wealthy man’s daughter. I was far too close to her the other night. This would all be difficult enough.
But I was the most wanted man in the entire country.
My little brothers were already dead.
Worse still, soon I would have no choice but to escape into the forest. The mating season was almost upon me. I was not safe around Fersa. I had come within an inch of fucking her. If she bore my child we would have a very serious problem. But maybe, now, it wasn’t safe for more reasons than one. The very idea of her hunting me at Patrick’s side made me want to grab her by the arm this very moment, pull her away from him forever, take her back to my humble dwelling, lift her skirts and give her everything she’d already been asking me for. Mark her as my own, now and forever. To see that boorish hunter with his smug smile and his meaty hand on her waist…
I could tear him apart.
She kept dancing with him. I had to remove myself from the room. I had a drink but I didn’t dare have two. I needed to keep control.
I can’t let this happen. I can’t let her go anywhere with him, much less marry him.
It would be so simple, in the moment, to change her mind. She was clearly attracted to me. If I asked her to dance, if I told her I would run with her as a wolf, she would drop Patrick in an instant, wouldn’t she?
When she saw me as I truly was, she would know I had dyed my hair black, that I was a wanted man in my other form, and even if not for that, her father would never let her marry a man like me. Patrick was well liked in town, a distant cousin of Fersa’s, with an inheritance—everything a human parent would want.
But I couldn’t get her out of my head. She haunted my every waking thought these days. I lost sleep for thinking of her scent, the feel of her hair beneath my fingers. When I dreamed, I was tearing through the forest with her on all fours. I was protecting her from all of life’s dangers.
This was the feeling a wolf had for his mate. The feeling she had unlocked in me with her tempting and teasing and—something more. Something I saw in her from the very first moment. My mother used to tell me that someday, I would do anything for my mate, and I would have no control over it. I always got angry when she told me I wouldn’t have any control.
But control was an illusion.
I had the sickening sense of my destiny hurtling me toward pain. It was a familiar feeling. I’d first known it when I told my own father I wanted to go to a human school.
I would never forget the way he growled and then laughed. A wolf? Going to school? They would never accept you!
It was several years before I was old enough and had enough of my own will that I set out on my own. I left behind my parents and my two small brothers, including little Ergar, who looked up to me like the moon revolved around me. But I had to do it. I set off for the large town of Awn and knocked on the door of a scholar’s academy.
The door slammed in my face. Townsfolk glared at me, told me to leave, refused even to sell me a drink. Until I met Alvo Giardi. A traveler and eccentric nobleman, he invited me to travel with him back to his home, a modest estate stuffed with books, specimens of dried flowers and s
trange insects and shells, and taxidermy. He let me linger on the pages, showed me rare tools for calculating equations and studying the stars, spread maps on tables. He opened the door to a world beyond my dreams—and then he leveled the price.
You’re a wolf. A good hunter, eh? I want a blue stag.
My mother said blue stags are special! I could never—
Then, I can’t take you in. You have no money. It’s all I ask, lad. I’ve always wanted a blue stag for my collection…
Chapter Eleven
Fersa
After a number of dances, I was starting to feel a little sick. My desire was twisting into something ravenous and tortured. I’d never gone into heat with men around. Something inside me cried out—not for Patrick, but for Agnar, confusing pain in the ass that he was. “Patrick—actually—maybe I’d better sit down for a minute.”
He put a hand on my forehead. “You are warm. Yes, take it easy, lass. There’s an empty chair over by your stepmother. I’ll be waiting.” He kissed my hand.
I walked over, feeling more nauseated by the moment.
“Are you all right?” Katherine asked.
“Mm…just…”
“Too much exercise for a lady’s constitution,” she declared.
“I’ve chased rabbits for miles!” I couldn’t help but defend myself.
“Well…not in a gown.”
“Then…why do we wear them?” I clutched my head. It was spinning. Outside the window, the moon was full and bright. Suddenly I felt absolute panic and clutched Katherine’s hand. “I need to go.”
“Go? We just arrived. Let me get you some—“
“No, please—“
I suddenly felt my entire body break into a cold sweat, and then I started slipping into a contortion. I was changing. I was changing into a wolf in the middle of the yuletide ball with every damn human in town in the room. I garbled out something before my mouth started stretching. My necklace was choking me, my body tearing through another dress. I fell off the chair, my hands scrambling for purchase somewhere. The transformation was not quite complete as I tried to resist it; I must have looked like a monster. I saw Katherine’s face looming over me, shrieking.
Taming Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale Heat Book 8) Page 7
