Wolf Prey (Wolf Cove Book 3)

by Nina West

  “You have a small terrace here.” She leads me to a set of French doors where just outside, a wrought iron balcony has been affixed to the stone. It’s just large enough for a bistro table and two chairs, and a planter over the railing.

  I step out, my fingers instantly going for the long, silvery leaves. “Lavender.”

  “Yes. I love it. You will find sprigs in the dresser drawers and mist on the bedding, to help sleep.” Her right hand ever so gently settles on my shoulder as she points to somewhere in the distance with her left. “There are lavender fields just over there. In the summer, the smell carries in the air.”

  Lavender fields. I’ve seen pictures—rows upon rows of bright purple bursts against vibrant green. “I would love to see that.”

  Her smile somehow grows wider as she gazes out over the property. “It truly is a different world here.”

  I step back inside, taking in the historical luxury of the room again. “Thank you for inviting me.” It’s the polite thing to say, even if I’m still wary of her.

  “Of course. I wanted Henry to enjoy himself, and I knew he would with you here. I am so happy that you came.”

  I have to acknowledge that Margo could have made this a business trip and had Henry here all to herself. But she didn’t. She’s making it hard for me to stay bitter with her.

  The sun streams in, through her gauzy white dress, showing me the curve of her breasts, and her long, taut torso. She’s not wearing a bra, and one dark pink nipple peeks through the sheer material.

  I look up to find those cat’s eyes on me, something secretive in that look. Does she know that her dress is see-through?

  “Please make yourself comfortable. Do you need anything else from me?”

  “I think I’m good. This is—”

  A knock sounds on the door, and my heart jumps.

  Henry?

  My hopes are dashed a second later when a woman in a maid’s uniform carries a tray of fruits and cheeses and other things in, setting it on the small dining table. She ducks out quickly and quietly.

  “Some refreshments for you, so you don’t starve. The croissants are freshly baked.”

  The way she says croissants makes me never want to try and say that word again. I’ll only sound stupid in comparison.

  “Eat, and then sleep.” She gestures to the bed and I catch a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Henry asked me to make sure you are well rested.”

  She knows what kind of man he is.

  And thanks to Henry, I have a good idea what kind of woman she is too.

  Two men at the same time? One being her boyfriend?

  I tamp down my jealousy and my judgment, because the past is the past and I have no right to judge her, given what I myself have done. “I will. Thanks.”

  She smiles as she kind of floats toward me in that ethereal way of hers, a genuine heartwarming smile. Seizing my arms with cool, gentle hands, she leans forward and presses her soft lips against mine. It’s a closed-mouth kiss and it only lasts for a second, but I’m caught unexpected in any case.

  If she notices my shock, she doesn’t let on.

  “We will see you later.”

  I watch her sashay out of the room, her hips swinging.

  My mouth still tingling.

  It wasn’t entirely offensive. Actually, it wasn’t offensive at all.

  It was just... weird.

  With a sigh, I connect to the place’s Wi-Fi, only to see that Henry hasn’t left Barcelona yet. At least he says he hasn’t. Who knows with him, seeing as he doesn’t like to warn me when he’s coming.

  Well... when coming means flying, that is.

  Looking around me at the room I’m going to share with Henry for the next six nights, my blood stirs.

  I smile.

  These walls are going to see a lot.

  I’ve been up for thirty hours. I’m hungry and travel weary, and in need of sleep and a shower. The last thing I want to be is tired when he arrives.

  Wandering over to the windows, I admire the view again—gardens and a courtyard below, rolling hills of fields and crops of lush trees beyond. Off to the side, I can just make out a newly built pool, surrounded by stone to fit in with the style of the place. It’s late September and still warm during the day, though maybe not warm enough to swim. Still, a couple lie side by side in lounge chairs, sunbathing. I can’t tell their age from here, but the woman’s skimpy royal blue bikini shows off a svelte, tanned body.

  I can’t picture Henry lying in a lounge chair all day, doing nothing. Maybe he’ll surprise me though.

  With a sigh, I strip off the only outfit I have to wear and carefully lay it over the back of the wing chair. Crawling into the silky sheets, I hit the button to draw the blinds and close my eyes.

  ~ ~ ~

  I wake up to a warm hand slipping over my hip and my heart starts racing.

  I know it’s Henry before I even open my eyes.

  I try to roll to meet him, but he’s already right there, his chest pressed against my back, lifting my leg up to fit himself between my legs from behind. I feel his smooth, hard cock as it slides against my thigh and heat instantly floods to my core.

  And then he’s lining himself up and pushing inside me.

  “Good sleep?” he murmurs, settling one of his muscular legs between mine. It changes the angle, giving him deeper access.

  I reach back to curl my fingers through his hair, twisting my body just enough that I can see his handsome face. I never tire of it. “Kiss me.”

  He smiles and brushes my hair off my face. Leaning down, his tongue catches mine, giving me a taste of Scotch.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “Just one on the plane, to take the edge off of waiting all day for this.” He punctuates this with a hard thrust and I cry out against his mouth.

  He smirks. And then he plunges again.

  And again.

  The arm hooked around my leg is like a vice, holding me in a perfect position as he pumps in and out of me relentlessly.

  “I don’t have enough hands,” he murmurs, curling his fingers through my hair. “Use yours.”

  I reach down to start rubbing my clit, already slick and swollen and needing attention.

  Thirty seconds later and without warning, he suddenly groans and shudders. “Fuck,” he forces out between gritted teeth, pulsing inside me. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop it this time. I’ve been thinking about it too much.”

  I sigh, my hand slowing. “It’s okay. This time.” Truthfully, he could come ten seconds in and I’d still be okay with it. I’ve never been so happy as I am right now.

  “No, it’s not.” He slides out of me and climbs to his knees, leaning back on his haunches. Throwing the covers off, he rolls me onto my back and pushes my knees apart, spreading my legs wide. “Keep going.”

  “But you do it so much better,” I tease.

  He stretches over me just long enough to hit the button to the retractable curtains. They begin drawing open, filling the room with late sun. I squint into the brightness.

  “I’m waiting, Abbi.”

  Keeping my eyes closed for the moment, I tentatively reach down, feeling his eyes on me even though I can’t see them. I may have done this a lot on our video calls, but I’ve only done it once with him sitting and watching me like this. I still felt this strange mix of erotic excitement and embarrassment.

  I let my fingers slip over my clit and then down, to where I’m slick and sticky with his seed as it leaks out. Back and forth, I draw slow circles, feeling my embarrassment slowly diminish.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I do, letting them adjust to the daylight until I can easily focus on Henry kneeling in front of me, his naked, muscular body settled in a relaxed pose. His cock is jutting up from between his legs. He looks ready again, but he’s not making a move.

  He’s just staring at me with that intense gaze of his—at my fingers between my legs, my breasts, my face.

  I look d
own at his erection again, and my legs instinctively slide farther out, opening my body up more for him. God, I want him on me and inside me again.

  His lips curl into a sexy smirk, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. With his right hand, he runs his hand up and down his shaft twice before letting it fall away again.

  He’s teasing me now.

  I move to sit up.

  “No.” He gives my shoulder a gentle push, sending me falling back. “I like watching you fuck yourself. In fact….” He stretches forward, reaching for the nightstand beside the bed.

  I use this chance, curling my body and sliding under him.

  He lets out a groan as I wrap my fist tight around his shaft and then open wide, letting my teeth scrape across his skin ever so lightly as I take him in. He freezes on his hands and knees, whatever he was going for temporarily forgotten.

  I look up to find him watching me. I pull away just long enough to smile at him, earning an eyebrow spike. “You think you’ve won?” Even his voice is husky, though he tries his best to play cool.

  I stick my tongue out and lick his tip like an ice-cream cone in answer, pretty sure that I have won. I ignore the rustling at the drawer and, closing my eyes, I fill my mouth with him again, reveling in the fact that I get to do this for six days straight.

  He lifts to his knees, his hands on the back of my head, pushing himself farther into me. “Goddammit, Abbi,” he hisses. He’s swelling inside my mouth already, and I can taste beads of his cum on the back of my tongue. It won’t be long before he orgasms again.

  Suddenly he’s gripping my hair and pulling himself out. I look up to find his heated eyes glaring at me, and his chest puffing in and out with his fast breaths. He’s seconds away from coming and is deftly shifting me back to my original position, on my back with my legs spread.

  He settles on his haunches again and tosses something long and black at me.

  I recognize it immediately. It’s just like Autumn’s green dildo, only a little bigger.

  “This was in the nightstand?”

  He chuckles. “Margo makes sure her guests have everything they might need.” The smile drops off, and a seriously intense gaze takes over. “I want you to fuck it, Abbi. I want to watch you do it until you come.” He starts stroking himself in long, slow movements, waiting. “The sooner you do that, the sooner you’ll get this.”

  God, this man….

  It’s been a while since I’ve heard him talk to me like that. I tentatively pick it up. It’s almost as thick as Henry and just as smooth, except for the ridges around it. It has a slight curve, to it, too.

  Henry takes it from me with a smirk. “I’ll get you started. Sit up a bit so you can see.”

  I prop myself up on my elbows as he begins sliding it up and down my folds, twisting and turning it with each pass, until it starts to glisten.

  And then he slowly begins to push.

  It’s not going in as easily as Henry does. He stops pushing and, with his other hand, starts rubbing my clit, his touch instantly making blood rush down between my legs.

  He pushes it in farther. “Come on, Abbi. I know how wet you get for me. Open up.”

  I stretch my thighs apart. He pulls it back and then pushes in again, forcing it farther. I stop focusing on the black thing, and instead focus on his hand, gripped around it, strong and rough, and so skilled at delivering orgasms.

  The dildo disappears deep inside me.

  He pulls it in and out a few more times and then he releases it. Grabbing two pillows to prop my head up, he leans back, his hands at his sides again. “Your turn.”

  I reach for it, feeling the warmth of Henry’s hand where he was just gripping it. It feels weird, having something foreign inside me.

  I slide it out slowly, and then push it back in as he did.

  Henry lets out a sigh, his cock bobbing once in anticipation. He runs his hand along his shaft once. “Keep going. Pretend it’s me.”

  I close my eyes and do as he asks, imagining this is Henry inside me.

  “You’ll need to go faster if you ever want to come.”

  He’s actually going to make me keep going until I come? How is he not coming? He was going to explode. With my other hand, I reach for my clit and start rubbing it.

  “Look at it. Look how wet you are.”

  I open my eyes and look down. The black rubber only accentuates how much thick, white cream is coating the shaft now. Each push in makes a wet, slurping sound now.

  “Fuck, I love seeing you like this, Abbi,” Henry hisses through pants. They’re matching my own, I realize, my breasts heaving up and down with quick breaths.

  His words spur me on and I start pumping it in and out even harder, and faster, until the curved end hits against that spot deep inside that Henry loves to rub. An almost uncomfortable pressure begins to build.

  The orgasm comes on hard and unexpectedly, bursting inside me. I’m still crying out when Henry yanks the dildo out of me and replaces it with himself, thrusting himself in and out of me at the same unrelenting pace until, only moments later, he’s groaning and pulsing inside me.

  I’m boneless as I lie beneath his body.

  “Now you know how to get by when we’re not together.” His breaths are heavy in my ear.

  “Somehow I don’t think it’ll be quite the same,” I murmur. “And there’s no way I’m doing that in my bedroom at home, with my parents downstairs.”

  “So get your own place.”

  I roll my eyes. “We’re not all made of money.”

  Henry lifts himself off enough to peer down at my face. “You know that whatever you want, you can have. Right?”

  “I’m not taking advantage of you.”

  “Why not? I’m taking advantage of you, right?” He lays a lingering kiss against the small of my neck, making me moan. “Preying on your virtue?”

  I giggle. “According to Mama.”

  With a groan, he climbs off me. “We should get up. Margo said they were all meeting for drinks at seven. Dinner’s at eight.”

  I roll over to glance at the clock. It’s just after six. I can’t believe I slept the afternoon away.

  The nightstand drawer still sits wide open. Curious, I look inside. There’s a basket filled with condoms and packets of lube, along with a bunch of other toys. “Anal beads?” I hold it up. “What is all this stuff?”

  “Things we can try out when we don’t have to be ready in an hour.”

  I frown, turning to take Henry in. He’s standing in front of the bay window, unashamed of his nakedness as he peers out over the scene. “How did you know that that”—I gesture at the dildo lying in the sheets—“would be in there?”

  “Just a hunch.”

  “You had a hunch that she’d put a basket of sex toys in our drawer?”

  He smirks. “Have you not figured out that she’s an odd one, yet?”

  He’s halfway to the bathroom when I remember and blurt out, “She kissed me. On the lips.”

  His feet slow for a moment before he continues on, disappearing behind the door.

  I hear him chuckling to himself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “This is the original cellar, five hundred years old.” Margo’s heels click on the uneven stone beneath our feet. “I’ve put off restoring it as it will take much time, but I will eventually. Of course, we cannot use this when we open as a hotel. It will be for my private collection.” The word “collection” slides from her mouth so smoothly in her French accent.

  I wrap my arms around my chest, fighting off the damp chill down here. “It’s so narrow.” And dark, the only light comes from a utility light that dangles above us on a wire.

  “Yes, most of the servants’ passageways did not leave a lot of room for maneuvering. There are still a few left behind the walls. I will show you tomorrow during our official tour. Henry, could you please reach those two bottles for me?” She points to the top of the wine rack.

  Henry, who’s behind me, sh
immies past, his body forced to rub against mine on the way by because there isn’t enough room for two people to pass each other easily.

  “Which ones?”

  “The two Beaujolais on the end. They are rare. I have been saving them.”

  He edges past her, and I imagine his groin presses against her ass like it just did to mine.

  I grit my teeth. Henry’s with me. That’s in the past. He said so himself, he doesn’t want to be with her.

  Looking at her now, in a plunging, black, backless dress that looks more like a sexy nightgown, I’m having a hard time buying it.

  “Merci, Henry. Now lead the way out.” She smiles up at him.

  He shimmies past me again, each hand filled with a bottle.

  Her cool hand settles lightly on my shoulder. “Ready, Abigail?”

  I steal one more look at her, to see her giving me that same broad, friendly smile. There’s nothing overtly evil or flirtatious about it. Nothing that says she’s plotting to steal Henry away from me.

  Still, I don’t trust her.

  ~ ~ ~

  “What is it?”

  “A French 75. I think you’ll like it.”

  I take the martini glass from Henry and hold it to my lips for a taste. “There’s lavender in this?”

  Henry smiles as I take a bigger sip, the sharp contrast of liquor and floral enticing.

  From the other side of the garden terrace, Margo bursts out in laughter. She’s talking to a couple who just arrived, the French rolling off her tongue with beautiful speed. She catches my eyes and then, reaching out with a guiding hand, ushers them over to us. “Henry and Abigail. This is Marc and Charlotte, two of my dearest friends. Charlotte and I used to do a lot of work together.”

  One look at Charlotte’s high cheekbones and perfect, svelte body and I can tell she’s another model. She looks a little older than Margo though, maybe by a few years.

  “This is Henry Wolf, owner of Wolf Hotels, and his Abigail.”

  His Abigail.

  Okay, she just scored a point or two.

  We exchange nods and smiles just as three more people arrive through the doors.

  Another round of introductions, as I meet Annie-Claude and her husband, also Marc; a French couple who live in Paris, and Isabelle, a dear friend.