Wolf Moon Rising

by Delilah Devlin

  Hydrangeas were good for removing hexes. Too bad there weren’t enough petals in the world to sprinkle around and remove the hex on her life.

  The door creaked open behind her, and she watched in the mirror as Sigurd entered the room. Again, he was nude. Which meant he’d been running—no doubt to escape this situation. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. The moment she said the words, tears stung her eyes. She’d been selfish to let him think he’d ever had a chance.

  Sweat coated his heaving chest. “I can’t turn it off.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant and waited as he stepped deeper into the room, willing herself not to react to his nakedness.

  “I’m a wolf, Aoife.”

  Feeling ill, she closed her eyes. She couldn’t expect him to betray his nature, to forfeit a future with children. No doubt he was worried about how she’d take this. At his heart, he cared for her and wouldn’t want to see her hurt. She had to be strong and somehow make this ending easier for him. She opened her eyes. “I understand,” she said, keeping her voice even. “I’m sure Ethan can find another guard.”

  His eyebrows lowered. “Will you just shut up?”

  She blinked, shock holding her still. With the exception of last night, which she understood—she’d broken the rules put in place for her own safety—he’d never been rude to her.

  He raised a hand. “Let me speak.”

  The texture of his voice was different. Low, but graveled. Almost rusty. Whatever he had to tell her wasn’t easy for him.

  He’s going to tell me he’s moving on. Her breaths shortened. She’d never considered he’d change his mind. He’d been with her from the start. Hovering. Directing. Being bossy as hell, but she hadn’t minded, because she liked him being in charge. She’d taken an almost-sensual pleasure from his natural, wolfy dominance. I will not cry.

  Sigurd cleared his throat. “I wish you’d told me. From the start.”

  “I should hav—”

  Again, he raised his hand. “You wasted so much time.”

  Flowers. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes.

  “I kept you on pedestal. Thought I wasn’t good enough to touch you. You were innocent, I told myself. Pure. If I’d followed my instincts, I felt like I’d…dirty you up.”

  She began to tremble. This revelation was far worse than him simply saying he was out of here. She’d deeply disappointed him. Dropped right off that pedestal to smash into little pieces.

  He stepped closer, and his features hardened. “Do you want any part of me?” he said, his voice going hoarse.

  Don’t make me tell you the truth. Don’t take away my last protection.

  “Aoife! Did you ever want me?”

  Her face crumpled, and this time she couldn’t hide her anguish or her shivers.

  He strode close and wrapped his arms around her.

  With a sigh, she leaned against his bare chest and breathed him in. His musk was a constant comfort. How could she give up his scent? And now that he held her, how could she forget how wonderful being surrounded by his warmth and strength felt? “Yes,” she gasped. “I want you.” I love you.

  He pressed a kiss against her temple. “Told you, baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “How?” She clutched his strong arms. “I can’t give you what you need. We can’t ever…” She hiccupped.

  “Fuck?” he whispered. “I’m guessing we can’t risk a condom breaking. And I know magic can be tricky, especially when you go against nature. So, no spell can be used to prevent conception, but babe, I know so many other ways to make love.”

  Relief was quickly doused. The corners of her mouth turned downward. “You’ll never hear an echo.”

  “And neither will you.” He kissed her hair then framed her face with his hands. “But let me tell you what’s worse. I ran tonight. Trying to escape my own thoughts. Avoiding thoughts of you, but it was impossible. You’re everywhere and everything. You’re the sweet air I breathe.”

  Her heart broke at the same time fierce joy erupted inside, hearing him say these things she’d wished for so long to hear. Slowly, she raised her gaze.

  He wiped her tears with his thumbs.

  His expression was still stark, but not unyielding. And a hint of tenderness glowed in his golden-brown eyes. “I can still share my magic,” she whispered.

  “I don’t give a fuck about your magic, Aoife.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Only thing I care about is you,” he said, his voice gruff. “Your happiness. Your…fulfillment.”

  And as quickly as he uttered that last word, the air between them crackled. The fine hairs on her arms lifted. The Powers That Be approved. And that confirmation of what her heart already knew was enough. Her pulse beat faster, and her breath hitched in her throat. “I don’t know how to…do it… without, um, actually, doing it…”

  His mouth curved into a sexy half-smile any cat would admire. “Baby, follow my lead.”

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  Aoife held still while Sigurd smoothed down her hips, and then crushed her dress in his fists as he pulled it upward. She raised her arms and let him draw it off then stood trembling.

  His gaze raked her body.

  Goosebumps prickled her skin. Her nipples tingled. Embarrassed her arousal was so apparent, she covered her breasts with her palms.

  Sigurd backed up to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, his knees spread. His glance swept over her body then rested on her hands still covering her breasts. “Interesting choice.” His gaze dropped lower.

  She rolled her eyes. “If you must know, I’m a little embarrassed at the way my body betrays me.”

  He grunted. “My problem’s more noticeable…” He cleared his throat. “Do you want to know what I think about when I jerk off?”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and she laughed nervously. Aoife’s nipples spiked harder and, below, she her sex tightened. A slow pulse throbbed there, between her legs. “Did you think of me?” she asked, surprised at the husky quality of her voice.

  “I think of you, dancing in the moonlight on the night of the battle.”

  So, memories of that night disturbed him as much as they did her. Knowing she wasn’t the only one helped. “I drew down the power of the moon then gave it to you.”

  “I thought I was hard until you touched me here,” he said, gripping his shaft.

  And by the sharpness of his cheeks and jaw, she knew what he wanted. What she could offer that might make up for what she could never give. She walked toward him and knelt between his splayed thighs. “I smoothed moonlight over your skin, to protect you from injury. I couldn’t resist coating this as well.” She closed her eyes, letting the light she stored inside her soul heat her body and enter her hands. Gently, she placed her warmed hands over his, still gripping his shaft. When he pulled away, she wrapped her fingers around his length, enclosing him and slowly let the heat spill onto the soft, satin skin clothing his hardness.

  His gasp was immediate. His head fell back.

  All those masculine edges and muscles surrendered to her touch. She watched his chest rise and fall, his breaths deepening as she glided up and down, reveling in the power she bestowed. Because what she surrendered was more than heat. When he lifted his head, his eyes glowed.

  “Enough,” he whispered. “I can’t lose control.” He scooted backward on the bed.

  She was forced to release him, but she followed, climbing onto the mattress and over his body. His arms enfolded her, bringing her chest against his. With his cock trapped against her mound, she began to ache, deep inside, her core tightening, and pleasure coiling.

  He fisted one hand in her hair and pulled her face toward his. His kiss was lusty and hard. His tongue speared into her mouth, and she savored the thrust.

  When she sucked on his tongue, he groaned and pulled her hair to break the kiss. “Spread your thighs, baby. Straddle me.”

  With her breasts against his chest, she straddled his hips and let him
position her so that her folds opened over the heavy ridge of his cock. Fluid oozed from inside her, so that when he began to show her how to move, forward and back, she glided easily along the top of his shaft. There was pleasure in the motions, and she found that if she rubbed her nipples against the crisp hairs cloaking his chest, more was created.

  She rubbed and rubbed, her breathing becoming more labored, her body releasing more moisture. Just when she felt a twinge of acute pleasure, he gripped her buttocks and halted her motions.

  “Not so quick,” he said, giving a harsh laugh.

  Rasping out a breath, she didn’t worry she wasn’t giving him back the same decedent sensuality, because his belly and thighs trembled as much as hers.

  He stretched upward and scooped her mouth with his lips. “Get on your back.” When his hands moved away, she shifted to the side, and then lay flat, staring up at the ceiling as she waited for whatever he wanted to do next, and knowing it would be wonderful, because he was wonderful.

  He rolled over her then pushed upward. The only part of him that touched her was his cock. Braced on one arm, he gripped his length and stroked her labia with the tip.

  When he placed it at her entrance, she held her breath, not caring if he pressed inside and dying to know whether the thickness she’d held inside her hands could indeed fit inside her passage.

  But he only swirled the crown around and around her entrance. Her pussy convulsed, tightening as though trying to capture him. And then he moved the tip higher and butted against the knot at the top of her folds that was beginning to swell and ache.

  With her fingers digging into his muscles, she wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips, reveling in the sensations as he stroked over her clitoris, rubbing it. “I like that,” she whispered.

  “There’s more. So much more.”

  Her breath caught. “Show me. Please.”

  His jaws ground. “You tempt me.”

  “I need more, Sigurd.”

  “Little siren,” he whispered, his gaze bored into hers.

  “More,” she insisted, reaching out to grip his shoulders and pull him closer.

  But again, he escaped, moving down her body.

  He mouthed her nipples, rotating his head as his open mouth teased. His tongue stroked outward and toggled one turgid tip, flicking it.

  Giving a sigh, she couldn’t help writhing beneath him.

  “So, sweet. So, responsive. I knew you’d be like this.”

  Her legs moved restlessly. “It hurts, Sigurd. I need…”

  “More, I know.”

  Then he latched his mouth around her areola, and he sucked hard, drawing her into his mouth where he teethed and nipped and flicked until she drew up her thighs and pushed her pelvis against his belly. Anything to get relief from the consuming tension.

  Aoife clutched the sheets beneath her, fisting her hands in the fabric to pull hard as he pleasured one breast then moved across to torture the other. She’d never felt anything as glorious as his teeth and mouth. “I feel strange…hot, so tense…”

  After releasing her breast, he moved lower. His hands gripped her waist as he licked her ribs and dipped into her bellybutton. When his mouth moved farther south, she gripped his hair hard and pushed downward, forcing his face between her legs. “Sigurd!”

  Chuckling, he licked upward through her folds then ducked down to trail upward again.

  Nothing had ever felt this divine or this delicious. Her hips rolled, something in the rhythm ratcheting up her excitement. Her eyelids fluttered downward, but she caught his gaze. He watched her. Something dark and exciting gleamed in his gaze as he stuck out his tongue and gave her another long, wet lap.

  “Again,” she whispered, her back arching.

  He obliged, but this time, he pressed higher, flattening his tongue against her clitoris and rubbing.

  “Oh!” Pleasure burst.

  But he pulled away, arresting the explosion.

  She collapsed against the mattress, moaning her disappointment.

  His hands pushed at her thighs, forcing them wider and her knees higher. Then he used both thumbs to spread her folds. His gaze rested on her sex.

  A blush burned in her cheeks.

  “It’s intact,” he said, his voice thick.

  “My hymen?” she asked. “You knew I never—”

  “I knew.” He raised his gaze. “Can I make you mine?”

  His face was hard as granite. His eyes scarily dark. She tilted her head. His inner demon was a jealous beast. A fact she’d always known, so she’d never even considered, not once, the thought of taking more than one guardian into her bed. Not like Miren who had taken her draugr and two mermen. Sigurd was too possessive, and looking at the feral light blazing in his eyes, she found she was as equally possessive. She’d never share herself with another. Never allow him another lover.

  That shocking thought rang through her. He was her mate. She was his. Simple as that. Meeting his gaze, she whispered, “I’m yours. Take me.”

  A frown pulled at his brows. “I don’t want to cause you any discomfort.”

  “I don’t want this moment to be anticlimactic.” She glared down over his torso. “I want to feel when you take what no one else will ever own.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “And I thought you were a gentle creature.”

  “I want to feel the sting of you entering me. Sigurd, shred it.”

  Again, Sigurd chuckled. Although the effort cost him. His cock was so hard he was in pain. Watching her slowly shattering beneath the pleasure he doled was gratifying but also torture. Every sigh and moan vibrated through his body. Every roll of her hips and quiver of her thighs threatened his control.

  Ever since she’d wrapped her fingers around his dick and infused him with her witch’s heat, he’d been primed to ravish her. The constraints on their passion savaged his willpower.

  And now, she gazed down at him, her diamond eyes glittering in the dawn’s gray light. Wearing a look of such fierce need, her expression was as feral as any wolf’s sighting its prey.

  She thought she wanted to feel the sting of her denouement. What she really desired was the echo of their bodies and souls as The Powers consecrated their union.

  Pain cinched his chest. That deep, profound pleasure would never be theirs. But this, he could give her. “Baby, hold on,” he growled and lowered his gaze to her pussy. Fuck, he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted to sink his cock inside her channel. Her sex was swollen, glistening with the fragrant moisture oozing from inside her. Spreading her folds, he gazed at the proof of her innocence, the thin slick membrane guarding her vagina.

  He thrust his tongue into her entrance and swirled and swirled, knowing this would be the last time he’d feel the membrane. “It’s a little thick.”

  “Just do it. I want this.”

  He kissed her slit then tightened his lips and sucked on the hard little nub.

  Her breath hissed between her teeth and her hips rolled.

  After placing both thumbs on either side of her entrance, he drove them inside.

  Aoife gave a little shriek.

  But he wasn’t done. With one finger, he swept away the remnants of her hymen. Then he eased his suction and drew back, tonguing her clit.

  Her hips quivered. Soft sobs shook her chest.

  However, the tension of the fingers gripping his hair urged him on.

  Sigurd ignored the sting and moved back up her body. He wanted his mouth on hers when he brought her fulfillment. Wanted his cock riding her sex. Supporting his weight on his elbows, he gazed down at her face. Tears starred her eyelashes. A deep blush filled her cheeks. Fuck, she’d never been more beautiful.

  Leaning on an elbow, he slipped a hand under her ass. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

  She did so, her eyes brimming, a tiny smile curving her lips. “Show me.”

  No more teasing. No more pulling away from the edge. He flexed his hips and rubbed between her folds, ensuring he pr
essed against her clit. Then in short thrusts, he stroked, forward and back, building friction, giving her pressure where she needed it. “Fly, baby. Just go with it.”

  Gripping his shoulders, she asked, “Will you be with me?”

  He nodded and began to shake. Then he quickened his motions.

  Her hands pinched his shoulders, and her body arched. And then her hips bumped upward, and she let loose a low moan as he ground faster and harder, never closing his eyes because he wanted to see. Wanted to know the moment she reached the pinnacle.

  She sucked her lower lip between her teeth, and her face screwed into such a look of ecstasy, he felt his balls release. “Fuck, now,” he bit out. “Come now!” He pushed another hand beneath her and cupped her closer as he humped, harder now, and losing rhythm because come spurted hot against her belly.

  Her eyes rounded, and she dragged her nails on his skin, her head leaning back as she arched hard and screamed.

  Gradually, his motions slowed. He nuzzled into the corner of her shoulder, relieved he’d lasted long enough to give her what she’d needed. He cradled her close, reveling in her gentle moans as her body relaxed.

  When he could breathe again, he lifted his head.

  With her hot palms, she bracketed his face and kissed him. “Thank you.”

  He gave a short bark of laughter. “My pleasure, little witch.”

  She sighed sleepily. “I think…I need to rest a bit.”

  So did he. He slipped to one side and turned her so he could spoon against her back. Her head rested on his bicep, and his hand lay on her breast as naturally as if they’d done this dozens of times. As his heart beats began to slow, he gave silent thanks. Never had he thought he’d be able to say these words: “I love you, Aoife.”

  “And I love you. Will this be enough for you?”

  Yes. This was enough. More than he’d hoped. He chuckled. “Sweetheart, I have many things to teach you.”

  “More ways…?”

  “Infinite ways.”