Sorcha's Wolf

by Billi Jean

  Sorcha’s eyes glowed like brilliant jewels, swirling with such passion he ducked his head to nip her lush lower lip before devouring her mouth. She tasted like sweet chocolate and cinnamon, the flavour of the drink he’d given her just moments before. The taste surged up through him, driving him insane for more. She wrapped her slim legs around his hips, nearly breaking his control.

  He tore his lips from hers and held himself up with a hand by her head in an attempt to gain some control. She pulled his shirt apart, snapping the buttons with a jerk that made her breasts bounce. She turned him into a rutting beast. He wanted to pin her, surge inside her lush warmth until her bosom bounced from the force of his body possessing hers.

  “Goddess, you’re killing me, woman.”

  “Alex, now, now, I ache.”

  He groaned at the sound of his name on her lips. She pushed his shirt off, using her hands to smooth over every inch of his chest and shoulders. He shrugged the material loose, then grabbed one of her hands and pressed a kiss to the centre.

  “Touch me, here.” He guided her hand to his aching flesh and hissed when she eagerly latched on. “Guide me to you.”

  “Oh, goddess, you are…big.”

  He choked on a groan at the way she’d said ‘big’ and dug his fingers into the turf to keep from ramming into her with the first feel of her wetness against the head of his cock. “Ah, god, more to fill you with, witch.”

  She froze and suddenly started shaking. He blinked at her to see her smiling, even giggling at him.

  He frowned at her. He needed inside her, now. What about that caused her such mirth?

  “Oh, goddess, don’t tell me you were serious?” she asked, smiling at him.

  He shook the hair off his forehead and nudged her entrance, reminding her of what he needed. “I’m fucking dying here, do I look like—”

  She rose on her elbows and kissed him quickly, smiling into his mouth. “Little Red Riding Hood and the big bad wolf, out to eat little girls,” she murmured.

  He barked a laugh, suddenly getting her joke. “I ate this little girl last night, right now I need to be inside her. Now, witch. Now.”

  He must have convinced her because she let him guide his aching flesh to her core, pressing inside the wet, hot tightness slowly. One inch inside and he felt her body tighten on his, resisting him.

  “Let me in, woman, I will be slow and easy.” He hoped. He could go easy couldn’t he? The idea of taking Sorcha hard and rough flooded his mind. Her hair spilled out under them and her breasts bounced along his chest in the vision, while she cried out for more in his ear. Soon, soon, he would do that, but now, he needed to measure her body’s acceptance of him. He wasn’t a small man.

  “You need to be, go slow, Alex.” Something in her tone made him lift his head from her lush breast to stare at her. At the same time, something fluttered against the head of his sensitive cock.

  She tossed her head and bit her lip, arching her body upwards and trying to take more of him.

  Amazed, he tossed his head to the side as sweat dripped into his eyes. “Virgin.”

  She opened her eyes and dug her nails into his shoulders. “Yes, but not for much longer.”

  Such emotions surged inside him, amazement, lust, pride, followed by fear that he froze. She was bestowing this upon him. Agni had never had this, never been near what she gave him. The jealousy he’d harboured for the demon disappeared, replaced by something so primitive he bent and bit the delicate spot where her shoulder met her slim throat.

  She gasped and moved under him, sliding her warm hands up his arms to his shoulders and on to dig her sharp nails into his ass. He fought back the rush to come at her possessive hold.

  Under him, her breasts heaved with each pant and she murmured his name before tugging his hair to kiss him as if she couldn’t last another minute without tasting him. He felt that way, as if he couldn’t last another second without driving into her and claiming her in the most elemental manner a man could possess a woman.

  She circled his waist with her warm thighs and he couldn’t stand it, couldn’t hold back, he was so close to coming it hurt. But he had to gain control here. He was a man. He would control himself and make this, her first time, something wonderful.

  With that thought in mind, he held back, waiting until all chance of him erupting upon his first full thrust passed to take over her fiery assault. He gently cupped the back of her neck with one hand to deepen the kiss and with his other hand, he secured her hip so she couldn’t move and take more than he wanted to give her.

  He broke away from her lush mouth and nudged her with his forehead until her eyes fluttered open.

  “Look at me, witch.” He thought something like pain flashed in her expression, but then was gone. “It will hurt, but it will feel better than anything I’ve done to you so far, much better. Do you trust me?”

  She nodded.

  “Aye, you want me? Want me to show you the way of a man and a woman?”

  She bit her lip and reached up to touch his face with one hand. He nuzzled her skin and kissed her palm. When she whispered, “yes” against his lips, he gently tore through her barrier, sliding himself deeper and deeper with a solid, slow thrust while he watched her face, trying to ease into her as gently as possible.

  It felt like he was pressing his cock into the hottest, warmest, most desirable woman he’d ever met. She kept her hand on his jaw, the other on his chest as if to keep him there. He wasn’t going anywhere. Here, in her arms, was exactly where he wanted to be. She arched her neck as he pushed in farther, but he sensed only a small amount of pain from her. Her breasts heaved with each breath, but he held himself still until she softened around him and her liquid eyes cleared of any pain.

  “Now, hold tight, witch,” he cautioned and pulled almost free before guiding his body into hers. She cried out in pleasure, digging those sharp nails into his chest and opened her thighs wider trying to give him more room, when he surged deeper.

  She whimpered then, wincing and tensing under him, but he kissed her, holding himself over her so his chest pressed against hers but keeping his hips from landing too powerfully against her body. He worked himself in shallowly, then out again, repeating the steady rhythm to the sounds of her hectic breaths. Sweat poured from him, mingling with hers, and creating another layer to the passion surrounding them. With one more solid surge, he felt his balls rest against her tender flesh and froze, possessing her as deeply as possible.

  “Ah, goddess, I’m in, so deep, witch. Can you feel me?”

  She tossed her head on the turf, eyes closed, and her pink lips parted on a gasp.

  He stilled, unsure if he’d harmed her. “Are you okay?”

  “Alex.”

  It was there, all in that one word. Something he should know. Something he would know, if the need to soothe her, to let her experience the pleasure of him filling her, wasn’t riding him like a beast. He gave her a slow thrust and retreat and she rewarded him with a breathy gasp. She grazed her lips over his shoulder, and moulded her hands to his body. Against his chest he felt her lush breasts bounce, her nipples driving him on to begin the sexual dance as ancient as time.

  “Oh, goddess, Alex!”

  He wasn’t going to last. Sorcha was wild, so giving with her passion he had her slender legs up on his shoulders, his mouth on hers as he drove into her harder and harder, making her nipples rake across his heated body with each firm impact of flesh on wet flesh.

  “Come for me, witch. Come for me,” he growled in time with each lunge. Sweat dripped off him, his shaft felt so hard he worried he’d harm her, but each time he pressed back inside her, she gasped in pleasure and raked her nails down his back, urging him on with hot kisses everywhere she could reach.

  He rocked forward, twisting his hips to a new angle and she gasped against his flesh where she was licking along his chest. Pleasure pounded down his spine, tightening his balls to hard stone. She bit down on his nipple, nearly ending his ability
to last another second. He bucked into her at the new angle and she broke away and cried out his name.

  “Yes, oh, goddess, Alex, there, there, there!”

  He went wild at her cries, driving into her harder and harder until she screamed out softly, biting him and hugging him around the neck sweetly as her body tightened on his cock. He let loose, groaning like a man dying instead of a man in such pleasure he might pass out. When he pulsed inside her, he trembled under the onslaught of sensations. He barely heard her cries or realised she came again with him, all he knew was he’d never let her go.

  The thought edged him over, and like the night before he jerked under another wave as the world spun around them. Surging forward, he dug his feet in the turf and pumped into her body, emptying himself as deeply as he could.

  When he finally caught his breath, he tumbled them to the side, securing her as close to him as possible. Years of being celibate and now he wanted her near him, hell, he wanted to stay inside her, and selfishly did, even if he didn’t deserve her. She murmured something sounding like his name, then curled her hand around his arm and fell asleep with her cheek pressed to heart, safe in his arms.

  A virgin. Sorcha. A virgin.

  He brushed a kiss to her forehead. A wild, fiery, lusty virgin and now asleep in his arms, his body still possessing her. Slowly, with great care, he eased his erection from her body, grinning when she murmured in denial. Wetness coated his shaft, making him feel so damn proud he pulled her tighter, shifted a thigh between her slim legs and pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent. She wiggled once more, but finally settled tiredly against him, her hand under her cheek, pressing lightly between them.

  She felt right. Like she belonged in his arms. She’d been a virgin. So tight and wet, so small and soft, he’d taken her too hard, and yet she curled into him trustingly.

  What was he supposed to do with this?

  * * * *

  Hours later, he still didn’t know. When the smell of the burning potion woke her, she looked surprised, then blushed prettily when she turned to him when he asked if he’d hurt her. She shook her head, but the blush tinting her cheeks grew rosy.

  He didn’t even try to stop the need to kiss her. He simply bent his head and possessed her mouth. Her lips were so puffy and pink, the upper and lower smooth and so lush he couldn’t imagine her opening for his cock. He’d come instantly, no doubt.

  She jerked away and gasped. “The potion!”

  “Ah hell, is it ruined?” A man could hope.

  “No, no it’s all right. Just, I have to, well”—she ducked her head and pulled her gown from where he’d tossed it aside. She pressed the velvet to her breasts, hiding her soft curves from his sight—“I have to get dressed.”

  And she wanted to get dressed without him leering at her, no doubt. Not liking it, but understanding her shyness now, he dressed quickly and avoided looking at where she sat. “I’ll go scout the area. You should wear the other clothing, eh?”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” she murmured.

  “I’ll be back soon.”

  She didn’t stop him, not that he expected her to, but she didn’t say anything either when he waited. Had he hurt her? She was hard to read. Until he had her under him, that is. The memory of her face filled with desire and passion had him strangely angry.

  He turned and stalked off, no longer certain what he was doing.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sorcha stirred the poison and swallowed nervously. Alex watched her closely. He’d been doing that since they’d made love.

  Made love. He’d done more than make love to her, he’d made her first time so special she felt like glowing, until she met his tense angry expression.

  “It’s ready.”

  He stayed still for a moment more, simply watching her, then went back to sharpening his blade. He’d been sharpening that blade for half an hour. He could split hairs with it by now. He’d honed every sharp weapon he owned as far as she could tell then had done odd things to his guns—like take them apart and put them back together, then had started on his sword. She wanted to ask if he thought any of his artillery would help them, but didn’t trust she’d be sarcastic enough.

  She realised she was staring at him when he stopped sharpening and narrowed his brown eyes at her. She jumped and turned away. Except every time she moved, she felt him, deep inside where he’d driven his body into hers, she still felt his possession. Hadn’t he warned her she would?

  The potion smelt horrid when it cooked, then it’d been too hot, so she’d let it cool for a bit, but now, stirred, cooked and cooled it was ready. She dipped a cup in and wiped the edges carefully before setting it on a flat rock. Suddenly Alex grabbed her arm, nearly making her scream. She’d not heard him move. He met her surprised gaze, his handsome face dark.

  What did he want? He didn’t say a word, but his entire body felt tense with something. He looked ready to launch himself at her, but he held her arm, so why the tension?

  When she lifted an eyebrow, he shook his head as if he’d just recognised what he was doing. She wanted to touch him again, share his body and be in his arms, making him lose himself as he had earlier. The sounds he’d made, the rough, pleasure filled, almost painful groans did something to her even now.

  She swallowed. They’d shared themselves.

  Now she knew what that meant. She’d never again be able to be near him and not shiver remembering the feel of his heavy weight pinning her as he’d made her insane with lust. She’d never again hear his deep voice without remembering him groan out how good she felt, how perfect she was, how hot she was—or hear his rough voice ordering her to come.

  ‘Come for me, witch’.

  She’d experienced such a range of emotions with him from rage to sorrow, pleasure to pain—she didn’t know which the more powerful, stronger emotions were.

  His eyes gave nothing away. No flash of his wolf. No sign of his emotions. Nothing.

  He dropped her arm and sat back, nodding to her to take the potion.

  She did. She’d brewed it. She was a witch and no matter what this potion did, it wouldn’t change that.

  As soon as the potion passed her lips, fire erupted down her chest. The pain went deep, much, much deeper to rip aside her willpower. She screamed as the drink struck her magical knowledge aside with a blow that toppled her backwards, burning in agony. The permanence of her loss settled through her from the inside out as it razed her abilities, wiping them clean from her body and leaving her alone, blind, deaf and barely conscious of anything beyond the pain.

  From outside her pain she heard something—a sound, a voice calling to her in Gaelic, the melody of the rough voice so low she couldn’t make sense of the words. Something else jarred her, unsettling her. Someone held her, for what she didn’t know, but she fought the hands all the same.

  Time slowed, and gradually she became aware of Alex, his anxious voice calling her name and what felt like his heart beating frantically against her ear. He held her. Ran with her. The thoughts surfaced but were gone again, and the flush of pain returned.

  When next she became aware of time moving along, she sensed someone rocking her body. On a bed? Smoke scented the air, but more was too hard to decipher and she settled against a firm, solid chest.

  “Sorcha? Sorcha, answer me. Answer me.”

  She fluttered painful eyelids open and closed them at the brightness of the room. A curse sounded by her ear, then it grew dim.

  “Sorcha, open your eyes now, open them.”

  She peeked out cautiously and the light dimmed, much more soothing, and less glaring. Alex suddenly shifted into view, his handsome face set in such a tense, angry expression she knew so well. She reached up, or tried to, but her hand felt too heavy. As if sensing what she wanted, he guided her fingers to his face, cupping her hand on his jaw and closed his eyes.

  “Witch, you scared a century off my life.”

  She laughed weakly and ran her finge
rs over his rough jaw.

  “What the hell happened?”

  She smiled and sighed painfully. “Only you would yell at someone in pain.”

  He gave her an outraged, stunned look and with a heavy exhale, gathered her closer to rock her in his arms. “I didnae mean it, but damn witch, you scared the hell out of me.”

  “Not likely,” she said, smiling when he met her eyes.

  He laughed suddenly against her hair and kissed her there before moving to look at her again. “Aye, witch, tell me what I can do.”

  “Take me home.”

  Under her, she felt him tense as if to rise. She pushed against his chest, and amazingly stopped him with just her touch. “What? Now you would take me home?”

  “I told you no harm would come to you.”

  She snorted and brushed her hair off her face. “You got me into this, you need to finish it. That means meet Rage and try your best to kill him, right?”

  He nodded after a long silent time of staring at her, but when he did, she wiped at her lips.

  “Ah, god, that stuff is vile.”

  “Here this will burn it off, eh?” he said, handing her a silver flask.

  Feeling oddly vulnerable, she eased out of the warmth of his arms. He let her go and stood. She tipped the bottle and spluttered as the fiery drink burnt a path down her throat all the way to her toes. His laugh startled her so badly she spilled the liquor on her shirt and barely caught the flask before it hit the floor.

  Still chuckling, Alex took the drink back and tipped his head to take a long, deep swallow. She stared at him, trying not to watch how hot he looked simply drinking. He’d laughed. Truly laughed. Something else was different about him too.

  “Aye, be careful, that’s potent stuff, eh?” He picked up a piece of cloth near the bed and brushed her chest off, lingering a little longer than necessary on her breasts she noted. Her breath caught when he did. She thought he might step away, but instead he pinched one of her curls between his strong fingers, wrapped the strand around his fist and tugged gently. “Why is your hair so curly now and straight before now?”