The Taming of the Wolf

by Dare, Lydia

  Cait’s father held his arms open to her, and she fell into them. “I’m so proud of ye,” he whispered. “And yer mama would be, too.” He raised her left hand and pressed a quick kiss to the ruby ring.

  “Are ye sure ye want me ta have this?” she asked, praying he would say yes.

  “I dinna give it ta ye. I gave it ta yer husband.” He placed Cait’s hand in Dash’s. “And I canna think of a prettier place ta display it.”

  ***

  If Dash didn’t get inside her soon, he would surely lose his mind. He’d spent the last two hours socializing with her friends and her father’s friends. It was the only time he’d ever appreciated anything his father had done for him, since he did know how to socialize in polite company. He just didn’t practice it often.

  But he wanted Cait. He wanted her with an intensity that even he didn’t understand. He’d had women beneath him, on top of him, and in every position in between since the first time he’d tupped a servant girl at the age of fourteen. But he’d never felt the desire to hold a woman. To stroke her. To bring her pleasure. Then to do it again and again until they were both sated. Then sleep and do it some more.

  Several times, she’d been dragged away from him completely by her friends or one acquaintance or another. And each time, he felt physical pain at her departure. He wanted her. In the worst way.

  Dash made his way across the Macleod drawing room to get her. It was time for them to be alone. It was time for him to love her. She leaned into him and tilted her head back to smile at him when he slid his arm around her shoulders. She felt like home, or at least what he imagined a home and family should feel like.

  But then a strong wind whipped at his hair.

  “Is that a warning?” he asked, forcing a congenial smile he didn’t feel to appear on his lips when he addressed Rhiannon Sinclair.

  “Only a reminder, my lord,” the girl said quietly. She stepped closer and leaned in as though she was telling him a simple secret. “If ye ever hurt our sister, there are four of us ye’ll have ta deal with. And Blaire isna even here so ye canna get a taste of what she has ta offer.”

  “I’m positively shivering in my boots,” Dash remarked, trying to keep the growl from his voice. If the witches thought they could keep him from Cait, they were sadly mistaken.

  As casually as possible, he turned Cait away from them and said quietly by her ear, “Do you think we can be alone, soon? I would like to make love to my wife.”

  She swallowed so harshly he could hear it. “Now?”

  He tilted her chin up until her blue eyes met his. “Please?” he asked. Please, save me from this torture.

  “Aye, we can go,” she said, and then she turned to hug Rhiannon and Sorcha. The younger girl was giddy with excitement.

  “Doona forget yer promise. Ye have ta tell me about it.”

  “Shh!” she said, attempting to quiet the wood sprite.

  Dash tugged her fingertips as gently as he possibly could until he finally had her moving toward the door. “If one more person stops you, I’ll not be responsible for my actions,” he growled.

  “Oh, such a beast,” she teased, a watery smile upon her face.

  “Are you all right?” Her tears tugged at his heart.

  “Aye, I’m all right.” She sniffed and then climbed into the waiting carriage.

  “What is it that you’re supposed to inform the littlest witch about?”

  Cait waved nonchalantly, but her hand shook a little in the air. “She wants ta ken everythin’ about the marriage bed.” A pretty blush crept up her cheeks.

  Dash tugged her into his lap. “You’ll have to learn a bit about it yerself, angel, before you can tell her all about it.” He tucked her tightly in his lap and looked down into her warm blue eyes. Then he whispered to her. “But don’t worry. I’ll try to be a good teacher.”

  She shivered in his arms.

  Cait nearly jumped when he brushed his hand across her cheekbone. “Why so skittish, angel? I can tell you want me. Your pulse is pounding like mad.” He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and then groaned aloud, “If we don’t get to wherever we’re going soon, I’ll disgrace myself and take you in the carriage.” He glanced out the window as the coach slowed. “Where are we going?”

  “It was supposed ta be a surprise. But ye’ll find out soon enough. Elspeth’s cottage is empty, ever since Westfield built his massive estate. And since they’re in Hampshire anyway, Rhiannon and Sorcha fixed it up a bit and we’re ta stay there tonight.”

  Dash’s heart swelled just a bit. She’d made plans for them to be alone. “Alone with you? How’d I ever get so lucky?” He couldn’t remember anyone else ever having planned a surprise for him. No one had ever cared enough.

  ***

  The coach slowed and Dash opened the door, stepping outside. He handed her out, pulled her hand into the crook of his arm, and surveyed the small cottage. “Charming little place,” he remarked.

  Cait turned the door latch and stepped inside. The interior took her breath away when she was immediately assaulted by the pleasing aroma of flowers. A fire roared in the hearth where soft blankets had been thrown down upon the rug. The windows were shrouded with hanging vines that twisted and turned, their leaves and flowers blocking all of the sunlight from the room, leaving them in darkness, aside from the glow of the hearth and candles placed about the room.

  “Sorcha’s handiwork, I presume?” Dash laughed, his mouth hanging open as he took in all the girl had done. “I had no idea she was so talented.”

  “Oh, she just tells the plants what ta do and they do it.” Cait shrugged and then busied herself worrying one of the flowers that hung on the wall.

  Dash put his arms around her from behind, drawing her slowly to him. “Why so fretful? Scared?”

  She sniffed. “I’m no’ afraid.”

  “Then why are you shaking?” he asked as his hands crept up her belly to cup the fullness of her breasts. She raised an arm and hooked it behind his neck, allowing her head to fall back on his shoulder.

  His warm breath blew across her neck, and she said in a choked gasp, “I’m no’ shakin’.”

  He turned her in his arms to face him, tipped her face up to his, and said, “I’ll not hurt you, Caitie.” She nodded quickly before Dash scooped her up and crossed the room, laying her on the soft blankets piled in front of the fire.

  “Dash,” she said, pressing her hand against his chest to stop him.

  “Yes, angel?” he asked absently as he slowly untied the laces of her gown, apparently taking great pleasure in drawing out the moment.

  “I canna see the future.”

  “I know you can’t see ours. That’s a good thing, Caitie.”

  “No’ for me,” she protested, but she lifted her arms when he had her gown loosened so he could tug it from her shoulders. Then she lifted her bottom when he tapped her hip so he could slide her dress down over her hips and toss it to the side, leaving her in nothing more than her chemise and stockings. How had he done that so quickly? She immediately crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “Ye have done this with a lot of women, Dashiel?” she asked, watching his face closely for a reaction. His eyes narrowed slightly.

  He stilled, no longer even touching her, his amber gaze nearly swallowing her whole. “I need you to know, Caitrin, that I have never done this with anyone before you.”

  “I doona ken what ye mean, Dash. Yer book—”

  He stopped her with a finger to her lips. “That was nothing like this.” He raked a hand through his hair.

  “Ye are vexed at me. I should have kept my big mouth closed.” Tears pricked at the backs of her eyelids.

  “I’m not angry at you, Cait. You have a good reason to be doubtful. I’m a Lycan. That’s enough to make any sane woman afraid. Not to mention that you’ve never done this before.”

  He leaned against the front of the settee and spread his legs, then gathered her and set her in between, his front cradling
her back.

  “Close your eyes,” he said quietly.

  Cait let her lids drift shut, sighing as she rested her head on his shoulder and relaxed into him. “I doona ken what it will be like,” she finally admitted.

  “You have to let some things just happen,” Dash said as his hands moved up to cup her breasts once again. Without preamble, he stroked across her nipples. She fought back a gasp. “Just like that.” His breath brushed across the shell of her ear.

  “Stop trying to predict how well I’ll love you. Because, if I don’t do it well enough the first time, I plan to do it again.” Another stroke across her nipple made her back arch. “And again.” His hand walked down her stomach toward the curls at the juncture of her thighs. “And again,” he growled as his fingers finally dipped into her heat.

  He stroked her, the sensation not unpleasant, not nearly what she’d expected. “That all right?”

  “Aye,” she gasped as one finger stroked across her pulse point and then slipped inside her. She arched her back, completely ashamed of the way he made her react to him.

  “So wet for me.” He panted with every breath.

  “Dash, please!” she cried.

  “Please, what?” he teased as his fingers moved from inside her to stroke her folds and back again.

  “I doona ken!” she finally cried. “I doona ken what happens next!”

  “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll show you,” he said as he turned her in his arms and began to work at his own clothing, tugging his shirt over his head.

  She’d seen his chest before, but not close enough to touch him. She reached out one tentative hand. His chest pulsed against her fingertips before he closed his own hand around it and placed it back in her lap.

  “If you touch me, I’ll be done for, lass.”

  “But…” she protested.

  He coaxed her into lifting her arms so he could pull her chemise over her head. Then she sat before him completely and totally naked, aside from her silk stockings with the pink garters Sorcha had insisted she wear. “Shall I take them off?”

  He shook his head. “No. I like them on.” He smiled at her softly. “Do you need for me to slow down?”

  His tenderness and thoughtfulness touched her heart. She lay back and held her arms out to him. The touch of his bare chest moving across her own as he covered her was sublime. She wiggled beneath him, urging him to move a little faster. Toward what? She had no idea. He trailed a kiss down the side of her neck, and she reached up to thread her hands through his hair.

  “I never expected you to be so complacent, Caitie,” he teased. “You normally have such fire.”

  “I’m a little bit preoccupied, ye beast.” She couldn’t help but giggle at him. Was she the kind of person to just lie beneath him, even if this was her first time? Absolutely not. “But if ye insist… Off with yer trousers, Dash,” she ordered.

  “I’m not ready to take them off,” he chuckled, bending to take her nipple into his mouth. She arched her back, tugging his hair to bring him closer. “If I take them off, I’ll have to be inside you. And you’re not quite ready.”

  “I think I am.” The man was speaking in riddles, and her head was already spinning with the way his rough tongue abraded the sensitive tips of her breasts as he went back and forth, back and forth. “What should I do?”

  “Nothing. You can be quiet so I can work.”

  “Quiet? Ye want me ta be quiet?”

  “Make all the noise you want, angel. But, please stop talking.” His hand ran down her belly and over her mound, where he pressed and rocked the heel of his hand against her as his fingers trailed through her heat.

  “You can make a noise when I do this,” he said as he parted her folds and touched the center of her.

  She gasped and rocked herself against him. She cried out when he moved his thumb across the nub that was her pleasure center, his mouth still devouring her breasts.

  “Ye doona play fair.”

  “Never said I did.” He raised his head briefly to respond.

  “Out of yer trousers, Brimsworth,” she growled, the noise foreign to her own ears.

  “As the lady wishes,” he breathed. Finally. Finally, he would ease this ache. Finally, he would take her and make her his.

  When he came back to her, he eased her legs apart with his knee and then settled himself fully between her thighs. Something hot and hard pressed at her most secret place.

  “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you,” he breathed.

  “Then take me, ye big wolf.”

  “Witch,” he grunted when she ran her hand down his chest.

  “Ye say that like it’s an insult.”

  She could barely breathe the last word as he probed at her center, pressing at her insistently until she rocked back.

  “That’s it, Caitie. Tell me when you’re ready.” He held himself above her, looking deeply into her eyes. His amber depths called to her.

  “Make me yers,” she pleaded. Then he thrust himself fully inside her in one swift stroke. A brief moment of pain jolted her from her passion-filled haze.

  “I love you, Caitie,” he said, his forehead touching hers as he breathed heavily in and out, in and out, remaining completely still within her. His fingers slipped between them so he could stoke the fire within her. Up, up, up she went. He began to move slowly within her, his slow strokes driving her mad, combined with the slow and steady movement of his fingers.

  “Doona hold back,” she commanded, tugging harshly at his hair so he looked at her. “I want my beast,” she cried.

  At her command, his strokes deepened, his rhythm increased, and his breaths blew harshly across her skin. He grunted, his arms sliding beneath her as he pressed farther and deeper than she ever would have expected. Up she went, farther and farther, the rhythm of her body matching his, thrust for thrust. Pressure for pressure. Pleasure for pleasure.

  “Dash!” she cried when the passion swept over her in a sweet release, pushing her into the pleasure-filled promise she hadn’t even known would be there. He followed while she was still fluttering around him and then stilled so she could pull the last of his pleasure from him. He remained inside her for a moment, his weight heavy upon her. Right. Heavy and right.

  Then he lifted his head and looked down upon her, wiping her hair from her sweaty brow. Her Lycan tried to be calm and complacent, but beneath it all, he was still a bit wild, and she would have him no other way.

  “I doona ken what comes next. We do it again?” She giggled at the stricken look on his face.

  He chuckled. “I’ll need just a moment, angel.”

  Cait liked the sound of that, and she rested her head against his chest, reveling in the feel of his arms holding her tightly.

  Twenty-Eight

  Dash rolled Caitrin beneath him and made love to her all over again. He tried to keep in mind that this was new for her and to be careful with her, but she had other plans. She begged him to take her harder and faster than before, and Dash needed all of his control to keep his wildness in check. If he hurt her, he’d never forgive himself.

  His little witch finally seemed sated and dropped her head upon his chest. Dash pulled a blanket up over her to keep the chill off them during the night. Then he cradled Caitrin against him and released a sigh of relief as warmth spread over every part of him. He’d never have his fill of her. She was everything he’d ever wanted and more, all wrapped up in the prettiest bundle. “Try to sleep, angel.”

  “Orderin’ me about again?” She covered a yawn with her delicate hand.

  Dash chuckled. “I am your lord and master now, Caitrin.” She poked him in the side, and he laughed harder. “Besides, you’re going to need your strength tomorrow.”

  “Oh?” She ran her delicate hand over his chest, making him hard all over again.

  “Mmm,” he agreed, tightening his hold on her. “I may not let you out of bed for a sennight.”

  Caitrin giggled softly. “We are no’ even in
a bed, Dashiel.”

  He smiled into the darkness as he watched her eyes flutter shut. “Good night, lass.”

  Dash knew the minute she fell asleep, as her breathing became rhythmic and her body went limp against his. Tired as he was, Dash wasn’t able to nod off. He was too amazed at his good fortune. For the rest of his life, he’d get to make love to Caitrin and wake up every morning with her in his arms.

  He’d never been responsible for anyone other than himself before. She was his, in every sense of the word. And every sigh she uttered, every breath she took, fascinated him. He didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

  “Come home, Dashiel,” she whispered in her sleep, clutching him tighter.

  But he was home. “Shhh, Caitie, I’m here.” He ran his hand over her back, soothing her.

  When she relaxed, he glanced around Elspeth Westfield’s cottage. He wasn’t home exactly. But wherever Caitrin was, he’d be at her side, and he had a feeling that meant Edinburgh. Her life was here, and he couldn’t envision her leaving.

  Dash sighed. He probably should locate a house for them as soon as possible. Accommodating as Angus Macleod was, Dash didn’t want to live with the man. But he didn’t know the city well enough to find a place himself. He’d have to hire a broker in the morning to start his search.

  Caitrin’s heart began to race, distracting him from his thoughts. Then her breath came in quick spurts, and before Dash could respond, his wife bolted upright and gasped as though she desperately needed air.

  “Caitrin,” he crooned to her. “You’re all right. I’m here.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  She sucked in an anguished breath and trembled against him.

  “Caitie, what is it?”

  She shook her head. “I-I doona ken.”

  “Were you dreaming?” he asked. “Is it your friend again?”

  “No, no’ Blaire.” Her heart began to slow to its normal pace. “It was a man.”

  “A man?” He wasn’t at all happy about the prospect of other men visiting her in her dreams.

  “In my dream. I think I saw the past,” she explained. “Which isna right. My gift is to see the future, not people or events that have already happened.”