A Highland Werewolf Wedding hotw-11

by Terry Spear

  She was in the middle of soaping her hair with the sweetest-smelling lavender shampoo, the hot water sluicing down her body making her nearly moan with pleasure, when she felt a hand brush across a nipple.

  She screamed, opening her eyes at the same time, and realized too late that the soap was running into them. She saw no one in the second of reprieve she had before her eyes filled with tears mixing with shampoo.

  Rubbing frantically to get the burning shampoo out of her eyes, she heard the door to her chamber open.

  “I’m all right,” she called out to whoever it was, suspecting it was Cearnach since his room was so close and he was so protective.

  Footfalls moved across her chamber, headed for the bathroom anyway. She still couldn’t see, her eyes tearing up as she continued to try and wash the soap out of them.

  “Elaine,” Cearnach said, standing outside the glass door of the shower stall.

  She shook her head, barely able to see him through her stinging eyes. He was wearing a towel, soap in his hair and a scowl on his face. She shoved the door to the stall open. “Come in.”

  “What happened this time?” Cearnach asked, sounding annoyed with what he suspected was his cousin’s unsettling her, but then he caught sight of her naked body covered only in a light coating of soapy water. He dropped his towel on the countertop, then stepped into the shower and closed the door.

  “I don’t think he wants me here. Not the way he keeps hassling me.”

  Cearnach moved in behind her and began to wash the shampoo out of her hair, gently, lovingly as if they were already mated. He didn’t say anything as she continued to try and wipe the soap out of her eyes. They felt better, but they still stung and tears reappeared as they tried to wash away the sting.

  Yet something about his protectiveness, his wanting her—his pheromones were so hot she could smell them over the scent of the shampoo, the water, him—the way he was declaring his interest, yet not pushing until she agreed, and his tenderness touched a need so deep that she couldn’t deny she also wanted him in a desperate way.

  “What did he do?” Cearnach sounded angry, although he was attempting to couch that anger.

  His voice broke the magical spell he’d cast over her.

  She hesitated to tell him, afraid he’d be so furious that he’d want to exorcise the ghost, and she didn’t want that. She supposed, as far as spirits went, Cearnach and his kin were family and Flynn deserved some happiness. Not that she wanted him touching her.

  “Elaine?” Cearnach wasn’t saying her name as a question but more as a command. “Tell me. What did Flynn do to you?”

  “He touched my breast.” She was thinking that Flynn had to be a breast man. Or… had been. Well, still was.

  She heard Cearnach gnash his teeth. He didn’t touch her, beyond rinsing out her hair, and she finished washing, then cast a look over her shoulder to see him watching her, rinsing out his own hair, looking primal, but not with regard to her, she didn’t think. More that he was ready to kick a Highland ghost’s butt.

  “Thanks, Cearnach. Sorry,” she said. Then she frowned. “No one heard me, did they? I mean, they were probably miles away in the kitchen.” She hoped.

  “I met Ian in the hall and told him I had this under control.”

  While Cearnach had been naked, wearing only a sheen of soapy water, shampoo in his hair, and a towel around his waist? Not that she’d want Ian to come to her rescue in the state she’d been in.

  She groaned and left Cearnach to finish washing by himself, grabbed a towel from a rack, and wrapped herself in it. There was no going back. One little near car collision had changed her life. No—the first time she’d met Cearnach, she’d felt the intrigue, the desire, the need. He had been like a dark wolf angel when she first met him, although she was not sure of his intentions. Yet deep down she had known he was the kind of man she needed in her life.

  Looking like a man with a mission, his brown eyes nearly as black as coal, Cearnach exited the shower stall, water dripping all over his skin. He retrieved his towel off the counter and wrapped it around his waist, his gaze fixed on hers. “I believe we have rather a situation here.”

  “Situation,” Elaine said, leaning back against the counter, holding her towel closed, and observing the intense look on Cearnach’s face.

  “Aye.” He was studying her, watching her expression closely, which meant he was coming to some sort of conclusion that he was worried she wouldn’t like, she thought. “I believe Flynn wants me to stick close to you. For whatever reason.”

  “Ha!” she said. “I’ve never heard of anything so crazy in my life. Your dead cousin is trying to matchmake from the grave?”

  Cearnach smiled a little at her words and shrugged. “Maybe. I can’t think of anything else. When he’s bothered the other lasses and they bring it to Ian’s attention, Ian threatens to exorcise him. It always works. Flynn lies low for days, weeks, months even. Sometimes he goes somewhere else to dally with the lasses. He’s never continued to pester the same woman right after we’ve taken him to task for it. Certainly not twice in a night, and then bright and early the next morning. Not like this.”

  “What if he’s doing so because he wants you to leave me alone since I’m kin to your enemy? Maybe he’s really concerned for you and wants to chase me off.”

  “Then what he’s pulling is having the opposite effect.” Cearnach drew close to Elaine, his hands cupping her face, his eyes taking on a heated look. “He’s smart enough to know it. Sleeping with you in bed, sharing a shower but not being able to touch you like I’d like, none of these things are conducive to my leaving you alone. You do realize when I’m with you, he doesn’t bother you?”

  “I wonder…” She looked up at Cearnach, her eyes still bleary with tears from the darned soap.

  “Aye?”

  “Would he have bothered me if I had used your bathroom while I showered?”

  “It’s hard to say. If he hadn’t unsettled you in there, it could have been that he was off haunting someone else for a time, and so we wouldn’t know the truth of the matter.”

  She observed Cearnach, willing him to tell her the truth. “Do you honestly believe if I had stayed in your bathroom, he wouldn’t have touched me?”

  Cearnach shook his head. “I don’t know, lass. I suspect he might have pulled the same thing, attempting to push me into going to you.”

  She touched Cearnach’s chest with her fingertips, looking at the way his nipples were already hard little pebbles. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you… really did put him up to it.”

  He chuckled. “Conspiring with a ghost to catch a lady’s attention? Like I’d need encouragement when it comes to you.”

  Yet, the ghost had pushed them together, if she was going to allow that’s what had plagued her in bed and in the shower. Not that either she or Cearnach had much control over the way their pheromones jump-started every time they drew close to each other. That was the problem with being a wolf-shifter. They could smell the interest from another wolf, and if they felt the same way, that special intriguing scent kicked their own into high gear.

  Right now, they were in a race to reach the finish line, only they were both slamming on the brakes because reaching that line meant a mating for life.

  She kissed his mouth lightly, just a very sweet, innocent peck on the lips, but she knew he wasn’t satisfied with that. Not that she was, either. He smiled just a hint, watching her expression, waiting for her to do more than just give him such a barely there kiss, waiting for her to take this up another notch. He was not pressuring her too much—not kissing her back, not encouraging her—as if he knew that once he got started kissing, they’d end up in bed together.

  For one rare moment, she wanted to toss away her cautious behavior. She’d already made up her mind that she needed and wanted him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, not sweetly or innocently, but like she was a she-wolf starved for affection, and he was the male she had cho
sen for her mate.

  Because he was. For the first time ever, despite having thought she’d found her mate several times over, only to have them vanish before a mating could occur, she knew that Cearnach would always be there for her. That she felt something deeper, more primal for him than she’d ever felt for any other wolf. Cearnach was hers.

  Cearnach growled in response, sampling her mouth, tasting, smiling as she nipped his lips, loving that she’d finally made the decision to take this further. Cearnach had realized when Elaine screamed in the shower that his ghostly cousin was attempting to get Elaine and him together. Again.

  At first, he hadn’t been certain. This time, he was. Her towel was slipping, her eyes closed as he pressed his tongue between her lips, enjoying the way she slid her tongue over his in a mating dance. He was ready to explode, listening to her heart beating so fast, smelling her lavender and she-wolf fragrance, recognized that as delicious as she smelled, she was already wet for him.

  Instead of removing their towels, he slid his hand between the opening of hers, found her soft, moist feminine folds and began to caress. Her low moan against his mouth turned him on all the more. He dipped his fingers deep inside of her and felt how wet and receptive she was for him. She dug her fingers into his arms, holding on for dear life so she wouldn’t collapse.

  She panted and softly groaned, pressing herself against his questing fingers. She was like a flower blossoming to his touch. Except for the growls. Those were wolfishly endearing.

  He wanted to carry her to the bed, yet he was afraid that if he did, he’d want to take this so much further than she might be ready for.

  Instead, he listened to the way her breathing hitched, felt the way she moved against his fingers, arching her pelvis, and sensed she was near the peak of climax when it hit her. He loved the way she buried her mouth against his throat, trying to stifle the rough cry of his name as she came.

  “Oh, yes,” she groaned, then reached down to touch him.

  He kissed the top of her head and withdrew his fingers. “Let’s get something to eat. Downstairs,” he clarified, not wanting to push this to a conclusion before she was willing.

  Her eyes were glazed as she yanked off his towel, her voice dark and commanding. “Your bed or mine? We finish this, Cearnach.” She smiled a little, her expression determined, yet playful.

  “Finish,” he said, his hands caressing her shoulders, so soft and silky, as he studied her gaze.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist in a loving embrace and placed her head against his chest. She said in whispered words, “You should never have let me get away the first time.”

  “Oh, aye, lass. Of that I am well aware. I can’t tell you how much I regretted losing you the first time.” He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. “You don’t feel pressured, do you? Either by my mother or Flynn? Or… by me?”

  She gave a little laugh. “Hardly.” Then her expression changed to something more serious, her brow slightly furrowed. “I don’t want you to get away from me, either. Every time I declare I want to mate with a wolf, he agrees, but before we consummate the relationship, he disappears.”

  “You’re mine, Elaine, and I’m not going anywhere.” He lifted her towel-clad body into his arms and kissed her forehead as she sighed, then carried her to the guest bed, though he wanted to claim her on his own mattress.

  Chapter 16

  Something felt off for Cearnach about mating with her here in the guest chamber. Like she was still just a guest, when he wanted her in his room, his bed, his.

  But he didn’t want to carry her across the hall to his chamber and risk running into anyone, either. He reminded himself he’d mate with her there later, many times over, to make it right.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” Elaine asked as she observed him. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

  He heard the pain in her words, that maybe she believed he was already thinking of abandoning the idea and didn’t want to prolong the inevitable.

  He smiled and was sure that he looked as wolfishly predatory as he felt. “We’re not delaying this.” He peeled off her towel and tossed it to the floor. Then he slowly climbed over her, deliberately rubbing his chest and arousal and legs over her soft, bare skin, leaving his scent on her, claiming her in a not-so-subtle wolf way.

  She knew exactly what he was doing, and her smile showed just what it meant to her as he lay next to her on his side. His gaze locked on hers as his fingers teased one of her rigid nipples, circling it and touching it. She lifted her fingers to caress his chest.

  His skin sizzled everywhere she trailed her fingers, making his erection jump with need.

  Unable to enjoy just the feel and look of her sweet body, he leaned in to kiss her, showing her every ounce of passion he possessed—the primal need and craving to make her his mate before one more male looked at her as though she was available.

  He pressed his tongue into her mouth, leaning his body against hers, parting her legs with one knee, and straddling her, his arousal thick and rigid. He wanted more than anything to lay claim to her. Now. Forever.

  He slid his fingers into her soft, wet heat, feeling the warm slickness from her climax. She moaned, bucking against him, her body arching as if she was pushing him to finish this.

  His blood ran hot as every muscle flexed with need. His mouth caressed her collarbone. She shivered as he touched her, explored her, and enjoyed her soft skin, her exquisite fragrance tantalizing him.

  His mouth captured hers. Their tongues twisted and danced together as if mating of their own accord. He ran his fingers through her hair, gripping the silky, damp locks. Liquid fire rushed through his veins, his cock straining against her thigh, his body rubbing against the muscle, her hips rising, forcing him to press harder against her.

  He inserted two fingers into her tight sheath. Tight like a virgin, he thought to himself. She would have had encounters with human males, and of course she was mated to that slug of a bastard centuries ago, but when was the last time she’d been with a man? She felt too tight for it to have been recently. He was glad to know it. She was his. No one else’s.

  He licked her taut nipple, taking it in his mouth, tugging gently with his lips. She moaned and cupped his head against her breast, writhing beneath him, her pelvis lifting against his throbbing erection. He kissed her across her breast, the valley between, and her right breast until he reached the other nipple, pushing her thighs open for him before pressing his erection against her hot, wet core. Not entering yet. Teasing. Wanting her to come when he did.

  “Oh, Cearnach,” she moaned, as he slid two fingers into her again, then pushed as deep as he could go.

  She spread her legs farther apart for him, and he declared against her mouth in Gaelic, “You are mine.”

  “As you are mine,” she whispered back.

  He lifted his head and stared at her. Had she known Gaelic all along? Had she known what Vardon had called her?

  Swearing in Gaelic, Cearnach gazed into her molten eyes. She lifted her hands and pulled his face back to hers, kissing him thoroughly, their tongues dueling as if in a medieval fight, making him forget all else but her.

  It was time. Time to make her his. He pushed the broad head of his penis into her, slowly at first until he was fully inside her. Thrusting carefully, he pushed deeper, mating with her, their hearts beating so loudly that he barely could hear anything else.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes.”

  This was what he’d wanted from the moment he’d seen her: him wrapped around her soft curves, Elaine’s wet heat wrapped around him in the ultimate joining.

  He swept his tongue across her parted lips, thrusting his cock deep inside her tight heat and feeling as though he was the first man in centuries to explore her core.

  Her sheath softened for him, allowing him to thrust deeper as the raw craving within him grew.

  She was beautiful, her face flushed, her breathing fast, her body moving ag
ainst him like a siren encouraging his every move.

  Her chocolate eyes were smoky with lust, her fingertips touching his muscles, his skin, leaving a trail of heat.

  She slid her legs around his hips and dug her heels into his ass, her breathing suspended as he sensed she was ready to explode. He groaned out loud, unable to hold back any longer. He felt the end coming, tried to hold on, felt her muscles contracting around him. Then he let loose, rocketed with the orgasm, and felt her body shuddering with ripples of climax. He loved the wolf beneath him, the sexy, loving woman who would share his world until the end of his days.

  He groaned and settled on top of her, still sheathed in her wet, slick heat, wanting to remain joined like this for hours. With her. Together. As one.

  For a long time, they stayed like that, breathing deeply of each other, listening to their hearts beating in unison, feeling the warmth of their bodies pressed together, sharing the knowledge that they were joined as wolf mates for life.

  He hadn’t realized they’d fallen asleep until he woke to find Elaine cuddled in his arms, the bed curtains still open, and the day growing later. The world outside the keep was full of activity as he heard the clanging of swords in practice sword-fighting, horses clip-clopping on the stone pavers as they were being taken out for exercise, the barks of their Irish wolfhounds and Duncan’s mate’s standard poodles as they raced around the inner bailey, the shouts of his people as they called out to each other.

  “Elaine,” he said softly, wanting to hold on to this moment forever but knowing they had to get up and face the day. Which meant facing his clan, his pack, his family and letting them all know they had a new she-wolf as part of the family.

  “Hmm,” she said, her voice dreamy. She tightened her hold around his waist, her eyes still closed, her lashes fanning her cheeks.