He opened a dressing that looked large enough to cover the puncture wounds, placed it over them, and smoothed the sticky edges down, careful not to hurt her. His focus drifted down to her feet, and he shifted back to reach them, gently cleaned each tiny laceration on the top of her feet and carefully checked the deeper ones on her soles. He placed more sticking plasters over the deepest of the cuts and couldn’t stop himself from unravelling a bandage he found, cutting it in half and wrapping the two pieces around her feet to protect them while they healed.
He tore off two strips of white tape and used them to keep the ends in place.
“There.” He stroked his hands over her feet, his touch light. “Do you want a bath?”
She shook her head.
“A glass of wine, then?”
Another shake.
He searched her eyes, a frown knitting his eyebrows as he tried to figure out what she wanted. Whenever things had become too much for her before, she had always turned to a hot bath and a glass of wine. She needed to relax and find her calm again.
“What do you need, then? Name it, and I will make it happen.” He took hold of her hands, lifting them from her lap to brush his thumbs across her knuckles.
Her green eyes held his, clear and serious, sharp and focused. “You.”
He frowned again. “Me?”
She nodded, shuffled to the edge of the bed, and wrapped her arms around his neck as she gazed down at him, her eyes darkening as they dropped to his lips and she murmured, “I need you, Wolf.”
“Why?” He was an idiot for questioning her, should have been leaping at the chance she was offering, but he needed to know.
She had been terrified, she had been wounded, and she had been violated. He had expected her to be afraid of him after the trauma she had suffered, to want him away from her as quickly as possible, not want him as close to her as she could get him.
“Because you’re the one I want, Wolf. I won’t let him ruin this… take this away from me. I need you to make love to me… to erase what happened. I just need you.” She hesitated and then quietly added, “I feel like I’m using you. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “You are not using me. I want to make love with you.”
He hadn’t understood her line of reasoning, but now he did. She wanted to focus on something good, something that made her happy and gave her the strength to look forwards and not dwell on the past. He was apparently that something for her. Being with him had helped her cope with the things that had happened to her, and he was honoured that he had been able to do that for her, and that even after everything she had just been through, she still turned to him.
Still wanted him.
Just the thought of being inside her again had him hard as stone in his trousers. He stood, and her eyes dropped to his waist, widening slightly as they settled on his erection, burning it through the white material. He groaned as he remembered the last time they had made love, his heart drumming harder as images popped into his head to torment him.
Emelia’s light touch feathering down his concealed shaft had all his focus narrowing on her.
Her eyes darkened by degrees as she stroked the length of him, and her nipples beaded in her tank, beckoning him. He wanted to taste them, imagined himself suckling them and eliciting soft cries from his female. Every one of them would be a sweet reward of its own, and he would savour them all.
Just as he wanted to savour her.
She had other plans, made fast work of the ties of his white trousers, and pushed them down his thighs, freeing his cock.
“Where do you want me—” His question cut off in a strangled groan as she wrapped her lips around his flesh, the heat of her mouth scalding him as she took him deep. “Sweet mercy.”
He clenched his fists at his sides, a foolish attempt to stop himself from taking hold of her as she stroked him with her tongue, pressing it hard into his cock as she sucked it.
“Emelia,” he breathed, “you do not have to—”
Another groan escaped him as she sucked harder and released him, looked up at him with hooded eyes.
“I want to,” she husked before dropping her head again to flick her tongue around the blunt crown.
“Fuck,” he muttered and gripped her shoulder, breathing hard as his heart thundered, blood rushing south so fast, he felt dizzy.
She moved to kneel on the bed and took hold of his hips, her palms scalding his flesh as she wrapped her lips around him again. He grunted and threaded his fingers in her hair, thought about telling her she didn’t have to do this, they didn’t have to do this, but it was lost on him a moment later when she took him deeper, the pleasure so intense, he forgot everything but the feel of her.
Just as he was on the precipice, she pulled back. Dark eyes flooded with desire held his as he bent his head to beg her to keep going. He had been so close. Every inch of him was hard, every muscle tensed as the pleasure that had been building inside him ebbed again.
He could only stare as she stepped from the bed, as she stripped off her jeans and panties, and followed them with her tank.
He swallowed hard to ease his dry mouth, groaned as his brow furrowed and he looked at her.
She was beautiful.
She stepped towards him, skimmed her fingers over his chest and down his stomach, holding his gaze the entire time. He shivered as she raised her hands and brushed them over his wings, couldn’t contain the moan that ripped from him when she teased his feathers.
“You like that.” A throaty statement of fact he couldn’t deny as she broke away from him and knelt on the bed again, flashing her backside at him.
She twisted to face him, held her hand out, and smiled.
He took it, followed her onto the bed, and wasn’t sure what to say when, rather than making him lie on it, she did.
She wanted him to be in control?
Fear shot through his veins, but the thought of making love to her, of worshipping her body with his, had it fading into the background. He could be gentle with her, had proven that the last time they had made love. He hadn’t hurt her then, and he wouldn’t hurt her now.
She reached for him. The moment his gaze fixed on her hands, she lowered them, and he groaned and his cock kicked as she feathered her fingers around her pert nipples and eased her other hand lower, dipping it between her thighs. She was wet, glistening with her need. His balls ached at the sight of her, the hunger in him mounting as he lowered his body towards her.
She beckoned him, a sultry smile that promised pleasure dancing on her lips.
He wanted to give her pleasure too.
He dipped his head between her thighs rather than covering her body with his. Her cry was sweet music to his ears as he stroked her flesh with his tongue, tasting her honey, and he did it again, rapidly losing himself in how she reacted to him, learning everything that made her tense and moan.
When he skimmed his fingers down to her core, he was the one moaning. She was so wet, ready for him. Colourful light shone in the path of his touch, revealing her to him as he stroked her. His cock jerked against the bedclothes, and he lowered his hips to them and rubbed against them as he licked her, waves of sparks skittering through him as need built inside him.
She moaned and arched her hips, pressing against his mouth as he wrapped his lips around her sensitive flesh and suckled her and slipped his fingers into her. Her cry and the way her delicate features crumpled as she tilted her head back into the pillows in response to him filling her had him aching with a need to replace his fingers with his shaft.
He focused on giving her pleasure instead, savoured the way she reacted to every lick and swirl of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers as he added another, stretching her with slow strokes that had the pads of his fingers rubbing a soft spot inside her.
She writhed, wantonly uttering his name in a passion-drenched plea.
A groan escaped him as he buried his face in her, licking her harder, stroking her deeper as she clenched
and bucked, as her left hand came down to clutch his head. She twisted his hair into her fingers, gripped it tightly as her breaths shortened and came faster, and he sensed her need rising.
She was close.
He plunged into her, and she shuddered, his name bursting from her lips as her thighs quivered and her core pulsed, growing slicker as her climax took her.
He licked her, kept stroking her with his fingers to ease her down, his cock aching as he felt her trembling and savoured her quiet gasps and soft moans, putting the sound of her shattering because of him to memory because he loved it.
When he finally pulled his fingers from her and lifted his head, her eyes opened and dropped to him. Her hooded gaze held his, spoke of the need he could feel in her, one that echoed inside him.
He rose to his knees and carefully covered her with his body. She arched to meet him, her thighs soft against his hips, and he groaned as he took hold of his cock, meeting her hand as she gripped him. A shudder wracked him as he edged it downwards with her, a wave of bliss rolling through him as her wet heat scalded him. His balls tightened, and he breathed through it, determined not to make a fool of himself.
She moaned and pressed her hips higher so the tip of his shaft met her core, and he held her gaze as he eased into her, feeling how tight she was around him, gripping him like a glove as he filled her. Her eyes slipped shut, her head tipping back on another soft sighing moan as she clutched the pillows. A moan of his own fell from his lips as her breasts jutted upwards, his mouth watering for a taste of them.
He clutched her hip in his right hand, painting rainbow light over it, and pressed the other to her back, drawing her up to him as he settled his weight on her. He dipped his head and captured her nipple as he pressed deep inside her, savouring the feel of her around him.
A little moan was his reward, together with a roll of her hips that demanded more.
He gave it to her, setting a slow pace as he worshipped her breasts. Each long thrust of his cock was bliss, each moan she surrendered like heaven to him. He relished them all as he drove into her, gaining speed as she shifted her hands to his shoulders and gripped them hard.
“More,” she murmured and buried her fingers in his black hair, pulled him down to her, and kissed him.
He tried to keep it soft, but she was fierce as her tongue clashed with his, demanding as her body moved against him. Her right hand shifted, and he shuddered as a thousand volts lit him up, striking down the line of his spine as her fingers brushed the delicate feathers that coated the arch of his wing. He thrust deeper, unable to stop himself from plunging into her as need rocked him, gathering into a tight ball inside him that had control slipping through his fingers. Every brush of her fingers over his feathers, each time she dared to grip his wing and hold on to it as he filled her, had that need cranking tighter.
Control slipping faster.
He tried to be gentle with her, but it was impossible as she moaned and writhed, working her hips against his as she explored his wing, as she clutched it and kissed him. He shifted his right knee, pressing it to the bed beneath her leg, and curled his hips, groaning into her mouth as pleasure built inside him, had his balls drawing up and his shaft thickening. The bliss of her touching his wings collided with it to magnify it, pushing him to dizzying new heights.
Her sweat-slicked skin stuck to his, and she moaned, her nipples beading against his chest, abrading his skin in a delicious way as she wrapped her left leg around him and dug her heel into his backside, spurring him on.
“More,” she uttered, breathless and wild as she strained for another release, rocking her hips to meet each thrust of his cock.
Her grip on his wing tightened, her fingers tugging at his hair as she kissed him deeper, harder, each clash of their mouths relaying the need he could feel inside her, the desperation that flooded him too.
He groaned and held her closer, thrusting deeper and faster, giving her what she wanted because he needed it too.
He hadn’t realised it until now, though.
The sight of the dragon close to taking her from him, the thought he might have lost her, filled him with a need to stamp his mark on her, to feel she was still here with him and she wasn’t going anywhere.
A grunt fell from his lips as she whispered throaty pleas at him, rocked her hips, and wrapped both legs around him. Her heels pressed into his buttocks, and he obeyed, took her harder as his senses screamed that she was close now, needing one last push.
He gripped her hip and pumped her harder, using her moans as a guide as he curled his hips, trying to find that one sweet spot that would send her over the edge.
She cried into his mouth, her entire body stiffening, jerking against his for a heartbeat before she quivered, every inch of her trembling as her core clenched him, pulsed, and gripped him.
Pleasure shot down his spine, tightened his balls, and had his shaft aching as release rose to the base of it. He buried his face against her neck, tried to keep going, but it was too much. He grunted against her damp skin as pleasure detonated inside him, rolled through him in a devastating wave that left every inch of him shaking and weak. He held her to him, sure he was hurting her but unable to do anything about it as bliss swept over him with every pulse of his cock inside her.
Her fingers stroked the line of his spine, and he tried to move, but it was impossible as he struggled to piece himself back together. He had never experienced anything like that, had never felt so wild, so desperate. He focused on Emelia, felt those same feelings echoing inside her, together with other emotions, ones that beat inside him too.
Ones neither of them were ready to admit yet.
“Wolf,” she murmured sleepily against his cheek, then stroked his wings and held him.
He sagged on top of her, his breath leaving him in a rush, and rolled as he sent his wings away. They were gone by the time he landed on his back with her on top of him. Her slender weight felt good against him. Right.
He brushed a kiss across her cheek as she sighed and he pulled the covers over her, swearing to her that he would watch over her.
He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.
He had failed her tonight.
He would never fail her again.
Tomorrow, the dragon would die.
CHAPTER 28
Wolf gently swept a rogue strand of Emelia’s chestnut hair from her face so he could see it clearly as he lay on his side facing her. Her nose wrinkled and a frown danced on her brow, and then her eyes slowly opened. He hadn’t meant to wake her.
An apology balanced on his lips.
But then her green eyes met his and his gift fired, transporting him from this world into her memories.
A village consisting of round huts surrounded him as he knelt on the dusty black ground, his hands bound behind his back, the ropes biting into his aching wrists. He glanced to his right and left, at the other females lined up beside him. A few were crying. Others were pleading for mercy. He remained quiet, holding his nerve and refusing to let the blond male sitting on a raised platform in the centre of the circular courtyard scare him.
Dark golden leathers stretched over his powerful legs, his honed torso bare and packed with muscles that tensed as he gripped the arms of his throne. Bright golden eyes flickered over the line of captives, and he resisted the urge to avert his gaze when they briefly landed on him.
The scenery swirled, and rough black walls replaced the village, ones that curved up to form a ceiling above him. He listened hard, heart racing as he tried to hear if the dragon had moved away from him, deeper into the tunnels. Sure that he was alone, he pushed to his feet and sprinted for the cave mouth. The ledge was broad and deep, jutted out over a valley far below. His eyes scanned the horizon, fear pounding in his veins as he wondered what was beyond them.
How far was he from the demons?
From going home?
An arm banded around his waist, and he gasped.
It turned into a cry of pain
as the world whirled again, the memory shifting to a more recent one. Fangs sliced into his flesh, hot and searing, and fear crawled over his skin. He pushed at the male holding him, stealing his blood and another piece of him. Hadn’t he taken enough already? He didn’t want to feel weak, hated how afraid he was at times, how his own shadow could make him jump. He wanted to be strong again, and he had been getting there, but now the dragon was back.
Taking that strength from him again.
His vision wobbled from pain and tears, blurred as he frantically clawed at the male, desperately trying to drive him away.
The bastard finally released him, pulled the makeshift blade free of his flesh, and licked it, coating his tongue in his own blood. A terrifying smile curved his lips as the dragon looked at him, and his stomach turned as he realised what he meant to do. He couldn’t let it happen.
He tightened his grip on the shears as the male neared him.
The dragon bellowed in agony.
His eyes darted to beyond the male.
To the warrior standing there.
Relief swept through him, laced with softer emotions.
Wolf squeezed his eyes closed, frowning as he shut down his gift and breathed through the assault, the constant flow of memories that swirled in his mind as he fought to get them to settle, to run in an order that wouldn’t give him a headache. They slowly eased, becoming background noise again as his mind compartmentalised them.
Emelia had been wide open to him, and he felt as if she had done it on purpose. She wanted him to see these memories because she wanted him to find the dragon, before the male came for her again.
She had wanted him to see her pain and fear too.
That pain and fear goaded him into doing as he had wanted last night. He wanted to hunt the dragon. He wanted to end him.
Rage poured through his veins, and his mind churned, her memories keeping him on the edge, burning with a need to hunt and bloody his sword. He released her and moved away, sat on the edge of the bed and tried to fight that urge. He wasn’t strong enough to master it this time.
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