He groaned, sounding almost in pain. He pulled back, his solid cock starting to slide out of her.
“No,” she cried out, before he thrust up again hard.
She moaned deeply as sensations of pleasure radiated out from where he impaled her. That felt so good. This time she let him retreat without protest but groaned even louder when he slammed back into her. She couldn’t help it. She realised she was tensing and relaxing her body in rhythm to his thrusts. Actually straining back against him whenever his hard hips surged against her bottom. He snarled again and somehow she could tell it was with approval although she didn’t know how. She could feel a tingling sensation deep inside and realised she was getting even wetter, giving him more of her natural lubrication to manoeuvre in and out with his deep hard thrusts. She could hear it in the wet, squelchy slapping sounds they made whenever he pulled out and then pushed back in. She would have died of mortification if she wasn’t such a heaving mass of arousal. But, oh my, the sounds their bodies were making her even more excited. He felt so good. Gods! She didn’t know what was happening to her, the bounce of the mattress springs, Jorah’s grunts, the hard, rhythmic slam of his hips against her bottom. She was actually rolling her hips in a desperate collusion with his thrusting manhood, almost desperately seeking something, some end goal from the hard pounding she was taking though she knew not what. As the sensations swirled harder sending shooting sparks behind her eyes and making her breath catch almost painfully she shrieked, suddenly clawing at the mattress, twisting and losing the rhythm as cries burst from her mouth and she hurtled forward into an almost terrifying bliss. She felt Jorah’s hand on the back of her neck, pushing her face down into the mattress as he brutally pinned her in place for his thrusts, his pistoning hips never stopping the battering pace as she turned her face so she could draw ragged breaths, her cheek resting against the bedsheets. She took his punishing strokes unable to do anything else as he held her immobile while if anything he slammed into her even harder and faster, a bellow bursting from his lips as he finally joined her in blessed oblivion, his seed bursting from him like a geyser. Her sheathe gently pulsated around him, as if delicate sipping at every last drop of his cum. After his groans of pleasure abated he leant forward covering her huddled body entirely with his, his face nuzzling against the back of her neck. She felt his tongue lap her there and inexplicably her womb quivered. Suddenly she felt his teeth there biting into her hard. She gave a strangled scream as she clamped down on him hard where he was still buried inside her. He gave a satisfied moan and gave her a few more shallow dips with his only half-erect dick. She breathed hard as her cleft quivered with the aftershocks of rapture. She whimpered feeling his chest heaving against her back.
“Are you okay?” he asked his voice gruff and she realised he had not spoken throughout the mounting this time. Only growled and snarled. “Isolde?” She turned her head to look back at him, her cheeks flushed. He gazed down at her, his eyes had deepened to a warm turqouisey blue she noticed with fascination. She nodded and he hesitated before withdrawing from her with obvious reluctance. She unfurled herself from her ass up, shoulders down position and winced at her stiff limbs. He gave a muffled exclamation before pulling her back against him again and rubbing his big hands over the strained muscles of her arms, thighs and calves. He made a soft crooning noise.
“Did I hurt you sweeting?”
She shook her head, strangely moved by his endearment. He was gazing at her again, almost as if he could not tear his eyes away before lowering his face to hers and pressing a tender kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes and returned it.
“Issy,” he whispered.
She felt oddly touched by that too, his calling her by the shortened version only her family used. She turned in his arms to hide her face in his chest and cling to him. Her burgeoning feelings threatened to overwhelm her. He stroked her back.
“Go to sleep now,” he told her in his rough-tender voice. She nodded, rubbing her face against his warm skin. It was all too much. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep comforting sleep.
Jorah woke with a start in the early hours. He realised there were people, likely inn staff moving around downstairs. He squinted over at the window and could see the faint grey light. It was raining, but only lightly. Isolde was lying sprawled across his chest, her hair spread out over shoulder, their legs entwined. He angled his head to rub his jaw along the top of her head. She shifted slightly over him and sighed in her sleep. He thought she murmured his name which made his lips curve into a smile. He dropped his arm down to fondle her plump backside as he considered the fact his wife was now aware of his nature and had accepted it in the blink of an eye. He took her acceptance of his hard fucking as acceptance of his dual nature. Only she hadn’t just accepted it, he thought with satisfaction, she had revelled in it. She was a marvel, he thought squeezing one ample buttock. He felt a slight catch in his chest when he thought about her. Lying like this with her, skin-to-skin he felt peaceful, right. His inner wolf was calm and contented. But already he was anticipating herding her out of this shady inn and getting her back to Varkash. It was only a day’s ride now until they reached there and he could set her in his home where she belonged. Then all would be right with his world. He couldn’t wait. Gently he rested a hand against the back of her neck, brushing her silky hair out of the way so he could feel for his bite-mark. He hadn’t meant to mark her again like that. Now she bore his mark on her upper thigh and the back of his neck. He’d always had a tendency towards being a possessive bastard, but he’d have to reign it in he thought with impatience. He traced his teeth imprints softly with the tip of his finger. She was so sweet. Her blood, her kiss, the nectar between her thighs. He wanted it always, only for him. That was why Baris’ words had set him off. The scorn, the disrespect he had shown his mate had deserved his violence. He frowned. There it was again – mate. He shouldn’t think of her as such. She was his wife. Only his wife. Baris would have to watch his step if he thought to accompany them home to Varkash. He would brook no-one insulting her. Not even his brother.
He’d waited for an hour letting her sleep until day break, before he’d nudged her awake with kisses and his roaming hands. Once she was awake and breathless, he’d rolled her onto her back and buried himself in her soft pliant flesh. Then he’d gently fucked her, or as gently as he was capable of. The bed had creaked and groaned beneath them even though he’d stifled her moans with his mouth. He’d needed one for the road and he took his time bringing her to her peak this time, squeezing and rubbing her succulent breasts, sucking on her pretty nipples. Gods, he loved her lush creamy body. He never got jabbed with bony knees or shoulders or had to worry about narrow backs or hips bearing his weight. He could cut loose, really let go and not worry he was going to hurt her. Her luxurious padding was all the buffer his big hard body needed. He grasped her thick round thighs and pushed them up and out, deepening his rapacious thrusts until he came, shooting long bursts of cum towards her thirsty womb. He wanted her pregnant he realised with surprise. Big and round with his child. Then everyone would know she belonged to him. His wolf growled liking the idea. Poor Isolde. His wolf was a possessive bastard too.
He’d stayed with her while she’d dressed, reluctant to leave her alone in a strange inn unattended. It had to be the first time he’d acted as lady’s maid he thought with a wry smile as he helped her into her shift after drying her off after washing. He couldn’t help the odd sly pat or stroke of her soft curves, although she tried to hide them behind her towel or undergarments. It was amusing to see her blush after her inhibited behaviour the night before. He decided to indulge her strange ideas of modesty but only because he really didn’t have time to strip her naked and show her how her whole body belonged to him now. It was still only very early but he planned on getting her out of the inn before most of the guests would even have awoken let alone broken fast. If any customers were left after his and Baris’ set-to last night. He realised their purse would be
considerably lighter this morning after Alfric reimbursed the landlord for his loss of patrons. He shrugged. He could afford it. His three years service for the king had left him plump of pocket with a small fortune to take back to Varkash and set things to rights. He sat on the bed and watched as she combed and separated her long hair to braid it for the journey. Her hands deftly wove in and out until both long plaits hung down neatly from her face.
“All done,” she whispered.
He reached out and tugged one of her braids until she stepped forward between the V of his open legs. She laughed and bent forward to kiss him briefly on the forehead. His eyes flew to the mirror opposite to see if her parted hair at the back showed his teeth-marks at her neck. His wolf gave a gratified howl to see the faint, white scar. It had healed to almost nothing but he and his kind would know it. He reached up to touch it with a gentle rub. Issy frowned as if suddenly remembering his bite, so he pulled her down for a more thorough kiss with his teeth and tongue. When he released her, her lips were puffy and she wobbled slightly on her feet. He bit back a smile and instead surged to his feet.
“Follow me close,” he cautioned as he fastened her cloak around her and then scooped up their baggage. “Let’s find the others.”
He saw her pale slightly.
“I hope… They weren’t in the next room?” she said looking horrified.
“No, the floor below,” he reassured her, once again hiding his amusement.
“Oh good,” she answered with relief following him through the door.
They found not only Alfric and Geoffrey below stairs but also Baris lounging on a seat awaiting them. He rose his eyebrows at the sight of his brother.
“I’d like to come back with you, if you’ll have me,” Baris said with bare-faced nerve. Jorah studied him a long moment before he gave an assenting nod of his head.
“Now welcome my wife to the family,” he said softly.
Baris obligingly bowed in Issy’s direction.
“Your humble brother-in-law,” he said smoothly.
Issy dipped a shallow curtsey.
“You’re too kind,” she answered without feeling.
Jorah smirked. So, his wife did not like his brother. That was fine by him.
“Are we breakfasting here?” interjected Alfric. “I mislike this place.”
Jorah glanced around the empty tap-room.
“No, let us leave,” he said shortly. “We’ll break our fast after we have ridden an hour.”
Alfric nodded approvingly.
“What’s wrong with this place?” complained Baris as they made their way out to the stables. “It’s one of my favourites.”
“It would be,” growled Geoffrey. The boy looked sullen and tired this morning.
“Watch it pup,” sniped his brother.
Jorah rolled his eyes. He had forgotten how Baris could reduce a crowd into a rabble.
“Watch it yourself,” snarked back Geoffrey. “You’re no higher in the pack order than me!”
Jorah glanced down at Isolde to find her taking in their sniping with interest. She glanced up at him as if aware of his scrutiny.
“Is Geoffrey a … werewolf too?” she asked quietly as they ducked into the stables to retrieve their horses.
“Yes,” he replied leading her horse Trix to one side for her to mount.
“And Alfric?” she whispered as he boosted her up into the saddle.
“Yes. He’s my beta, my second in command of the pack at Varkash.”
She digested this with one rosy fingertip at her bottom lip.
“Well, who’s been looking after the pack in your absence?” she asked wide-eyed. “If you and Alfric have been away for so long?”
Jorah cast a look over at his brother as he too mounted up on Warrior.
“My Uncle Cedric,” he muttered swinging over his leg. “At least…”
Baris laughed from where he was tightening the stirrups on a large grey.
“Uncle Cedric has barricaded himself in the Dower House with his books and his potions.”
“You should have stayed and imposed some order,” said Alfric tightly. “If that was the way of things.”
Baris shrugged.
“Oh I tried for a while… but you know what an undependable bastard I am. They all started to get on my nerves with their squabbling and in-fighting.”
Alfric shook his head angrily as he led his horse from the stable.
“How bad is it?” Jorah asked steeling himself for the worst. “Be frank with us.”
Baris sighed heaving himself onto his horse.
“It’s a shambles,” he admitted. “Most of the bitches have left for more affluent, stable packs.”
Jorah shrugged non-commitally at that.
“That’s only healthy,” he commented. “And prevents in-breeding.”
“Your strongest fighers – Ancel, Degore, Farmanus. All left to become mercenaries.”
Alfric groaned.
“Not Farmanus,” he sighed. “I was training him personally.”
Baris bristled.
“I’m a stronger fighter than him,” he boasted flexing a mighty arm.
“You ran off to become a sword-for-hire too,” pointed out Alfric coldly.
“Good point,” conceded Baris. “Well, maybe they’ll return when you’ve set the place to rights.”
“What else?” asked Jorah cutting him short.
They were all outside the stable now. Jorah, Baris and Alfric rode three abreast with Isolde and Geoffrey and the pack horses close behind.
Baris had evidently decided to make a clean breast of it. He watched his brother warily.
“The South tower collapsed completely in a storm eighteen months ago and has been left a ruin.”
“Did no-one attempt to rebuild it?” asked Alfric grinding his teeth.
“No, not without you to direct it,” teased Baris. “You’re the resident architect.”
“What about the fortifications? The walls?” questioned Jorah shortly.
“All crumbling to dust,” his brother admitted. “I told you, the place is going to rack and ruin.” He hesitated.
“What?” barked Jorah instinctively.
“There have even – been some raids on the outer-lying farms on your land,” he admitted heavily.
Jorah’s wheeled around.
“What?” he barked furiously at this insult to his name.
“With the reduced men, the lack of funds…” his brother tailed off colouring slightly.
Jorah tightened his jaw at the blaze of fury he felt. Warrior stirred uneasily beneath him. He took a deep calming breath.
“Raiders? Daring to hit tenant farmers on my land?” he repeated bitterly. He could hardly believe it. Some homecoming this was turning into. Baris’ revelations had put a damper on the mood for the rest of the ride. Jorah inwardly seethed for the next hour until they reached a small town where they stopped to take some repast. All of them were subdued in mood and Geoffrey kept loudly yawning.
“I’m sick of looking at your tonsils!” growled Baris taking a swipe at his ear across the table.
“Well if you hadn’t turfed me out of my own bed..!” snapped back Geoffrey. “I could barely sleep on that kitchen bench!”
Jorah looked up sharply at Alfric as a slow blush spread across his beta’s cheekbones. It was no more than he suspected after scenting his brother on his beta that morning. Still, it was a complication he could do without and he wondered if it had been a mistake letting Baris return to the fold. His brother had always been an awkward, provoking bastard and that was without taking his sexual excesses into account. He didn’t want him upsetting his beta with his faithlessness. What a nightmare this was all turning into, he thought darkly. His one consolation was his choice of bride he thought glancing over at Isolde who was dipping her bread in some soup and delicately nibbling on it. He reached across on impulse and covered her hand with his. She smiled and they laced their fingers together wordlessly. Leaning back
he noticed the other three males watching him with thunderstruck expressions.
“What?” he asked narrowing his eyes.
. “Nothing m’lord!” Geoffrey gulped returning to his food.
Alfric coughed discreetly and Baris smirked. He kept their fingers intertwined until they returned to the horses.
“I’m sorry everything’s going to be so difficult at first,” she said laying her hand on his forearm. “But I know you will have everything in order before long.” Her eyes were full of trust and honesty. He pulled her into his arms and held her for a moment, his face resting against the top of her head.
“I swear I will be a good husband and provide for you Isolde,” he said gravely. He felt her head nod beneath him.
“I know,” she said simply.
He breathed out.
“It’ll take a while to straighten things out.”
“Yes.”
“Just bear with me okay?”
“Of course.”
“The pack business can be … difficult. They’re a little rough around the edges.”
“That’s fine,” she soothed him. He heard a slight tremor in her voice.
“If anyone offers you any disrespect I will throw them out,” he told her. “Without hesitation.” He glanced over to where Baris was mounting his horse. “I don’t care who it is.”
The rest of the ride was miserable as the rain drizzled down on and off and the sky was full of thunder clouds. By late afternoon they had reached the outskirts of his lands and Jorah felt his mouth thin to a straight line as he took in the dilapidated fences and great gaps in the marking of the boundaries. It was going to take a lot of work to get things straight. He glanced over at Alfric who looked similarly displeased. This would be no quick-fix project. It would take months to get things in order. They rode on, passing farms and fields until finally, just as night was falling they reached the Keep at last. The grey stone outline rose stark and majestic against the dark blue skyline and Jorah felt his chest well up at the sight of his birthplace. He glanced across at Isolde who was sat up in her saddle gazing at it in what he hoped was awe.
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