The Princess and the Wolf

by Karen Kay

  And though she arched her chest and threw back her shoulders in acquiescence, she said, “I am not your woman.”

  He shook his head. “We both know differently.” He cupped her breasts with the palms of his hands, and the thought of stopping him didn’t even enter her head. Indeed, Sierra swooned backward.

  How could she talk? How could she argue with this man, when every ounce of her strength demanded that she surrender to him? And as naturally as if he’d done this every day of his life, he picked her up, letting her legs drape over his arms and then he lowered her to the soft cushions of the pine boughs. And bending over her, he said, “Do you notice that you do not fight me? Take note, Princess. And consider, is this your way with other gentlemen of your acquaintance?”

  Sierra gasped. “Is it your intent to insult me, sir?”

  He grinned. “Not in the least. I wish only to point out that you allow me these privileges. This, and this alone, marks you as my woman.”

  “Perhaps,” she said at last, reaching up to brush her fingers lightly over his cheek. “But someday, I will have to leave this place, and when that day arrives, there will be no room in my life, nor in my heart for you. If you would love me, then you must do so knowing that this day will yet come.”

  He gazed at her, simply looked at her, and the silence that stretched out before them was as quiet as a tomb. However, at length, he said, “Very well. Consider me forewarned.”

  She drew in a breath, saying, “Then you would agree to let me go?”

  “No,” he said, “I do not agree. But I will understand if that is the way of things. But do not ask me to agree to lose you.”

  “You promise you won’t stand in my way?”

  He sighed, but nonetheless, he said, “I will not.”

  Sierra dropped her gaze from him, feeling as though she had won the battle, but lost the war. However, when she looked at him again, she said, “Then so be it.”

  And with no other conditions to add, at least none for the moment, she propped herself up on her forearms and said, “Mr. High Wolf. Why do you hesitate?”

  She loved him. Ah, yes. Make no mistake, she loved this man with all her heart.

  As he fanned his fingertips over the soft skin of her belly, as he ran his palm down to her hand and grasped hold of it, as he leaned over her to take possession of her lips, the knowledge that she had once again committed herself to him settled deep within her. It didn’t frighten her this time; it didn’t demand anything of her, either. For he didn’t rush her; he didn’t push her. Instead, with his lips, his tongue, his embrace, all of him, he slowly adored her.

  And she was left in no doubt that this man loved her still, as much as she loved him. Although, came a wayward thought, hadn’t she believed that of him ten years ago?

  She whimpered, the sound high-pitched and soft.

  Perhaps he was right, she thought; perhaps she should let go of the past. Like unwanted baggage, the memory was soiled and secondhand. Why did she keep dragging it with her as though his mistakes were set in gold?

  Was life not stirring within her at this very moment? And as he had said, there was no single, perfect human being…

  At that instant, he shifted his weight, and coming up to his forearms, he leaned over her, his gaze serious, determined. And he said, “This is our wedding night.”

  Without thought, she shook her head.

  “Yes, it is,” he affirmed. “It is what we should have had. And we will have it…now.”

  “But you don’t understand—”

  “In my country, in my tribe, when a woman and a man spend the night together, they are married. And so we will be.”

  She let out her breath slowly, only now starting to realize the danger of what she was doing. And she said, as much for herself as for him, “I cannot marry you. You know this.”

  “I do not know this.”

  “High Wolf, do not say this to me. I have been quite clear on the subject.”

  “True. I have heard your words. But that changes nothing. After tonight, in my heart, we will be man and wife. And if you cannot accept that, then that is too bad. Perhaps you should pretend it is so.”

  “Pretend?” She stared up at him, shocked that he would suggest it, thrilled at the prospect. And with more aplomb than she felt, she reached out to take hold of a lock of his hair. And she said, “Is this another game, like the ones that you used to teach me long ago? For this is quite a proposition you present me.”

  “It could be a game, if you like,” he said.

  She smiled slightly as she twirled that lock of hair around her finger, and she said, “I suppose we could pretend—for today only—that we are married. I remember how well I used to love it when you would play games of observation with me and with Prince Alathom. Do you remember them?”

  He inclined his head.

  “As long as you realize this is a pretense only?”

  “I do,” he said at once, as he caught her hand in his. “But if we are to pretend, let us imagine that there is no one else alive this day, but us. No past, no future, no others to interfere. No upset, none of the problems that have afflicted us. There is only now. You and me. Haa’he, for today, let us pretend that we are an old married couple, who have many years of life yet to share with one another.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I like that. And let us make believe also that we have lived with each other for many, many years already.”

  He grinned and remarked rather disdainfully, “If we have, I think I have missed out on something quite important.”

  “We’re pretending,” she said, her voice a mild scold. “And if we are imagining all this, then I shall make believe that I have every right to do with you as I wish.”

  His smile widened. “I am at your disposal.”

  “Truly?” She glanced up at him shyly.

  And he squeezed her hand. “Truly.”

  “But after today, we will not be really married. You must remember that, won’t you?”

  “For you this will be so.”

  “But not for you?”

  He nodded. “Not for me. If I make love to you tonight, from that moment on, you will be my wife.”

  She gave him a soft smile. “It seems hardly fair, does it? And yet I cannot marry you, not in actuality.” She drew her brows together in a frown. “And this you accept?”

  “No,” he said.

  “But I thought…didn’t you say that—”

  “I do not accept it. Perhaps I should warn you that I will do all I can to make you my wife in fact. But if, by the time you are prepared to return home, you cannot see fit to ‘make an honest man of me,’ I will not stand in your way.”

  “And this you promise me?”

  He nodded. “This I promise you.”

  She exhaled slowly, saying, “Then let us begin. Where do we start?”

  He groaned. “I think we begin with a massage.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Yes, that’s correct. You wanted me to massage you.”

  He shook his head. “Not this time. At the moment, I want to massage you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Since you are already lying down, it seems the right thing to do, does it not?” This he asked with a wink.

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  And without another word, he lay down beside her, and bending his arm at the elbow, he propped his head up against one of his hands, while he threw a leg over hers. Gently, he trailed his hands down over her arms, lightly rubbing. He massaged her torso down and up, rubbing her breasts in between, then moved his hands down one leg to the other and up again, massaging her calves, her thighs, her belly.

  Leaning over her, he kissed her belly.

  And Sierra shivered with ecstasy. “Hmmm,” she said, “that feels good.”

  “Yes,” he said, “doesn’t it?”

  He continued up over her shoulders to her neck, trailing caresses over her breasts. And where his hands led, his lips soon followed.

  �
��We must remove your corset,” he said softly. “It will feel better for you, then.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, reaching up to help him with it. Carefully, they worked over the laces, pulling them apart until the garment slipped from around her. Breathing a deep sigh at the feeling of freedom, she lay down fully on the pine boughs, there beneath his gaze. And as she did so, she realized that in all these years, this was the first time she had ever presented herself to High Wolf in such a fashion.

  And he adored her with his eyes.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said. “How I have missed awakening to this every day of my life.”

  “But I have never been here for you to miss it.”

  “I know,” he said. “That is the point.”

  “But now you have me.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Now I have you.” And as he gently kneaded her softened mounds of flesh, he placed a kiss there, too, murmuring, “Let us pretend that we are deeply in love with each other.”

  She nodded.

  “So much in love that when I place my hand here”—he touched her on that spot most sensitive, at the junction of her legs—“you welcome the embrace.”

  Again she nodded.

  “And of course, an old married woman like you would not object if I remove these drawers, so that you and I might enjoy our time together without the barrier of clothing.”

  “Yes,” she said. “But if I do this, then you must remove your…ah…breechcloth, too.”

  He groaned, deep in his throat. “Yes,” he said. “I will. All in good time.”

  With hands that were not quite steady, he removed her drawers. And for a moment, he stilled; his gaze caught hers. Unsteadily, he inhaled.

  “I’m afraid that my illusions of you have not done right by you, my love. Now.” He leaned over her, placing his hand low upon her tummy. “I am going to touch you here.” He moved his hand lower, over her triangular mound of hair. “But being an old married woman, you will expect this, will you not?”

  “Yes,” she said. She sucked in her breath. “That feels quite good.”

  “Haa’he. I know.” He massaged her gently. “Now, you must widen your legs to greet me.”

  She bowed her head in acknowledgement, realizing she was already accommodating him. Instinctively, her legs had already parted.

  And using the touch of his fingers, he worshipped her.

  All at once, every bit of her attention was drawn to what he was doing down there, and arching upward, she moved her hips in rhythm with his hand.

  “Oh, my love,” he said. “Do you feel it? Do you feel the magic between us?”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “I do. Oh, High Wolf. What is happening to me? I feel…I feel…”

  “Do not think of it. Just experience it, knowing that you have my love.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Oh, yes. High Wolf.” Her eyes went wide. “I…I…” she moaned, as pure sensation overtook her, and gyrating her hips in rhythm with his hand, she came to a plateau of such overwhelming pleasure, she thought she might not be able to bear it. On and on it went, her hips rising and falling with the pulse of it, as pleasure swamped her.

  And with her eyes wide, and staring straight up at High Wolf, she said, “Oh, my.”

  Chapter 16

  If we had been together from the start,

  If joy had followed us around the clock,

  Would we have found the wisdom in our heart?

  Excerpted from a poem by David Ziff

  “Sonnets to a Soul Mate”

  “So that is what it means to make love,” she said sometime later.

  “It is a part of it.”

  “Hmmm. There is more. Of course there would have to be more…for you. Does a man seek…pleasure…similar to that of a woman?”

  He concurred with a bob of his head.

  “And is it obtained in the same way? Do you wish me to do this to you?”

  “There are other ways, better ways, sweeter ways.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. And I’m sure I know these things. After all, I am an old married woman.”

  “Yes, you are,” he agreed. “At least for today.”

  “So,” she said, “what do I do now?”

  He grinned, and grabbing hold of her hand, he brought it to his chest. “This old married woman could kiss me for a start.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, and leaning in toward him, she placed a peck on his cheek.

  “A passionate kiss.”

  “Oh,” she said, and sitting up, positioned her lips on his, her tongue sweeping into his mouth, much as he had done to her.

  “Did you mean something like that?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Something like that.”

  “And now what?”

  He grinned. “You will have to find that out for yourself.”

  “I will?”

  He nodded. “A man’s body is ofttimes sensitive in much the same places as a woman’s.”

  “Really?” She reached over to place a touch against one of his flattened nipples, pleased to hear him suck in his breath. And she murmured, “Did that feel good?”

  “Quite,” he said.

  “And if I trail my hand down your chest like this, does that feel good, also?”

  He grabbed her hand, saying, “A little too good.”

  “And your neck and the lobe of your ear,” she said, leaning upward to press kisses in these places. “Are these as sensitive as mine?”

  He groaned.

  “I think they are,” she whispered, her breath blowing against him gently.

  “Yes,” he uttered, and it was all he uttered. Changing position, he came up over her, placing his body weight on his forearms. And he inquired, “I must know, Princess. Have you ever made love to a man?”

  At first she nodded, but then, seeing his frown, she bit her lip.

  “I want the truth.”

  “I…the truth?”

  “Haa’he.”

  “I…” She turned her head to the side. “I…in ten years, it would be natural to assume that I would have.”

  “That was not an answer to my question. The truth now, Princess. It’s important.”

  “I…” She sent him a shy glance. “I have not.”

  She felt, more than heard, his sigh.

  “I did not think that you had, but I had to be certain.”

  “Why?”

  “If you were experienced, you would know why.”

  “I would?”

  He nodded. “The first time for a woman is not always a pleasant experience.”

  “I have been told it is never a good experience for a woman. It has been said that sex is merely a thing to be endured. And only because men require it.”

  “Endured? Required?” He looked cynical. “Who has told you such a lie?”

  “A lie? High Wolf, I believe this to be so,” she said, casting him a wide-eyed glance. “Why many of the older, married women—those who attend me. They all speak of it in this way.”

  “Then they should know better than to try to scare a young woman. A union between a man and woman is a sharing experience, not a thing to withstand.”

  “Then these women, what they said, it is not true?”

  “Not in the least. But,” he said, leaning down to place a kiss on a ripened breast, “it is not always good the first time for a woman. It may hurt.”

  “Yes,” she said. “So I have heard.”

  “Some say that the pain goes away quickly. Some never experience relief until after the first few times. But if one practices it, and attends to it, a woman should experience the same feeling that you felt only a few moments ago.”

  “Truly?” she said. “That was a good thing, was it not?”

  He nodded. “That was a good thing.” Then he grinned. “And so we should practice it often.”

  “Of course we should,” she said. “We are an old, married couple, after all.”

  “Yes, we are. And now, my wife of many, many years, are you ready
?”

  With her gaze locked with his, she nodded.

  “Then do what I tell you to do, and perhaps this first time will be memorable for you, instead of one filled with…”

  She smiled at him. “I will try.”

  He gazed down at her, and in his look was such adoration, Sierra brightened.

  “Princess, Princess,” he said, “do you know how much I have loved you?”

  “Even these past ten years?”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “Though I have refused to acknowledge it. But I am not lying when I tell you that you have haunted my dreams. For me, you are all I have ever known, all I have ever wanted. In ten years, there has been no one else.”

  Her look at him was mocking in the extreme. “And you expect me to believe that? You, a handsome, young man—in a country where a man can take more than one wife?”

  “Why would I marry another when my every thought was harried by you? How could I give my heart to another when you were still living here within me?” He touched his breast. “I admit that there have been others who have tried to interest me in marriage. But always, when I would look at another, I would see you; I would remember…us. And when that happened, the sadness would return to torment me. No, unfortunately for me, when I lost you, I lost a part of myself, as well, for I died a little on the day I left. And nothing since has made me come alive…until now…”

  Reaching out to him, she eased back a lock of his hair, as she said, “High Wolf, do you mean these things you tell me?”

  He nodded. “Very much.”

  “Oh, High Wolf, I am sorry, so very sorry that things have turned out as they have, and were it in my power, I would forget my reason for being here, for needing to find the prince. But the die is cast. There are things a person cannot forget. Actions that can never be taken back. Reputations that must be upheld.”

  He grabbed hold of her hand, turning his head into it, and pressed kisses onto her palm. He said, “What are you saying?”

  “That no matter what happens, I must return home…with the prince as my husband.”