He stood and stripped down to his braies. All the while, he felt her eyes on him.
“I have to say it,” she said as he approached the bed. “You are a magnificent specimen of a man.”
He chuckled. “You never give up, do you?”
“I’m just stating the obvious. Would you have me lie?”
No, but I’d have you lie beneath me, he thought before he could stop himself. Again, his manhood stirred.
“Well?” she pressed.
He halted beside the bed, and she lay on her side looking up at him. Only her face and neck were visible above the coverlets.
“Like you, I prefer the truth,” he said.
She smiled. “We are well-matched then.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. You know what else I say?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m afraid to guess.”
“You’re so tall. I feel like I’m talking to Moses on the mountain. Come down from there and get in bed.”
Grinning, he slipped into bed beside her and lay on his back. “Better?”
“Much.” Her body heat stole toward him beneath the covers.
“Jocelyn.”
“What?”
“You’re staring at me.”
“That I am.”
He sighed. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Not in the least. Are you?”
“I thought I was, but…”
She inched closer to him, radiating even more heat as she did so. “But what?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “’Tis impossible to feel tired when you’re so near.”
“You fell asleep easily last night.”
“But that was after…”
Jocelyn hummed in a way that reminded him of a cat’s purr. “I well remember. But tonight, I’m merely lying here. Why should that rouse you?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. Because you make me feel alive. Because I’m doing everything in my power to resist you.
“Wulfstan, give me your hand.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Against his better judgment, he reached toward her beneath the covers. She took his hand and placed it on her belly.
’Twas warm beyond belief. And smooth. And bare as the day she was born.
Chapter Sixteen
Surprise! Jocelyn awaited his reaction.
His hand felt cool on her flesh. For three seconds. Then he wrenched it away, sat up, and yanked the coverlets off of her.
His gaze traveled the length of her body. “You’re naked!”
She gave him a droll look. “You don’t miss much.”
He ran a hand through his hair yet again. “What are you doing to me?”
“A better question is what will you do to me?”
“I cannot—”
“You can do anything you choose. So choose me.”
He looked away. “What you ask is—”
“My right as your wife.”
His eyes sought hers. “Jocelyn.”
“Wulfstan. Do you care about me at all?” She held her breath.
“Aye,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. Slowly, he leaned over her. “I care.”
Her heart swelled. “Then show me.”
His mouth came down on hers in a hot, hungry kiss. Their tongues entwined. His breath became hers. Basking in their shared passion, she ran her hands over his back and buttocks.
“Please,” she said, tugging the string of his braies. “Doff your breeches. I want no barrier between us.”
Without protest, he took them off and flung them on the floor. His eyes looked ravenous as he lowered himself to her again.
He kissed her cheek, her neck, the valley between her breasts. His hand cupped her right breast while his tongue teased the nipple. She shivered in response.
“Now there’s a first,” he murmured. “Are you actually cold?”
Through a haze of desire, she formed a reply. “No.”
He closed his mouth over the nipple and sucked, gently at first, then harder until she moaned with pleasure. Moving to her left breast, his teeth grazed the pap. Again, she shuddered. Then she arched her back as he drew hard on the nipple, coaxing another moan from deep in her throat.
He squeezed her hips and tongued her navel. She ran her hands through his hair. His kisses continued, inching lower until he reached her sex. With deft fingers and a light touch, he combed the hair.
He inhaled deeply and sighed. “Your scent is bewitching. I’ve waited so long to know it.”
She could hardly breathe. “No jest?”
“None whatsoever.” His fingers parted her hair, and he kissed what he’d revealed.
“Wulfstan!”
He looked up at her. “What?”
“Are you sure ’tis proper lovemaking?”
“Since when do you care about ‘proper’?”
Heat crept into her cheeks. “Since now.”
His expression held confidence. As ever, he was the keeper of secret knowledge. “Trust me, Jocelyn. Before I’m through, you’ll care only for pleasure.”
He gave her a wolfish grin and bent lower. Gently, his mouth explored her silken folds. She closed her eyes and surrendered to sensation. His tongue circled the bud of her passion and pushed against it. She gasped.
“Do you want me to stop?” His breath felt warm on her nether lips.
“No.”
He continued. Hot and wet, his tongue flicked again and again over the nubbin.
Her head rolled back and forth on the pillow. She tilted her pelvis. “Aye. Just like that.”
His tender assault grew faster, more insistent. At the same time, he slid a finger into her virginal channel and pressed against the upper wall.
“Oh!” she cried.
“Should I stop now?” he teased.
“Don’t you dare!”
With a chuckle, he went back to work. He took her higher and higher. Jocelyn writhed beneath him as her passion built to a fever pitch.
A jolt of extreme pleasure shot through her. She bucked her hips and cried out.
“You were right,” she breathed when she was able to speak. “I don’t care a jot whether that was proper or not.”
Wulfstan kissed her inner thighs, one after the other, and nuzzled against her once more. Then he moved to lie beside her, propped himself on his elbow, and smiled down at her. “I knew you wouldn’t…and won’t.”
She was contemplating the curve of his lips when the word hit home. She met his gaze and gave him a quizzical look. “Won’t?”
“That’s right.” His eyes sparkled, then darkened with desire. “I’ve only just begun.”
****
Wulfstan licked his lips. He could still taste her. She’d seduced his senses with her voluptuous body and intoxicating scent. He felt compelled to give her more, to discover just how much passion he could ignite in her.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He grinned. “You said the other day you wanted your ‘dream’ to go on forever.”
“Aye. I did.”
“Let’s give forever a try.”
He honed in on the fiery triangle that had become his world moments ago. Placing his hand on the warm, damp mound, he willed his energy into it.
Jocelyn’s legs twitched. “Oh.”
The heat between his hand and her sex grew.
“Oh my.” She started to pant. “I…never…thought that—” A cry of pleasure overruled the rest of the sentence.
Satisfaction washed over Wulfstan, but his focus didn’t waver. His gaze sought her body, her face. Yet he kept the energy flowing into his hand and into her.
Sweat glistened on her forehead and between her breasts. Her nipples were taut, tempting.
She arched her back. “Holy…ah!”
He smiled. “That’s three.”
“Are we counting?”
“We are.”
She licked her rosy lips. “I’m not sure how much…more…
I…ah!”
“Four,” he said. Then he increased the vibration.
Her eyes widened and she lifted her head from the pillow. “Again?”
“Again.”
Her head dropped back on the pillow. She closed her eyes, but a minute later, they flew open as she cried out again.
“Five,” he said. His manhood throbbed. Her excitement fed his.
She bit her lip and placed a hand on her stomach. “Every time, it gets better…and better…and…ah!”
“And there’s six,” he said. “You are a marvel, Jocelyn.”
She gave him a weak smile, pushed out her lower lip and blew air onto her face. “So are you.”
He leaned forward and teased her left nipple with his tongue, while intensifying the energy his hand poured into her.
“God in heaven,” she murmured. Her head thrashed on the pillow. “Ah!”
He lifted his head and their gazes locked.
“Seven,” they said together. Then they laughed, until Jocelyn’s smile disappeared.
“I think there’s another one coming,” she said. “I cannot believe…how…ah!”
“That’s eight, my dear,” Wulfstan said. “Shall we keep going?”
She gave him a sheepish grin. “Perhaps one more?”
He beamed at her. “As many as you desire.”
“Just one. ’Tis all I need.”
“Then let’s make it the best.”
He bent over her left breast and sucked hard on the nipple. The rest of his intention converged on her sex, where he heightened the intensity threefold.
This time, Jocelyn screamed her release. He silenced her with a kiss and slid his hand from her mound to the curve of her right hip. She moaned in protest as he pulled away, so he kissed her throat. Unable to stop himself, he licked the salty sweat off her collarbone, then kissed her shoulder.
Would he ever get enough of her? Knowing her nature and his response to it, how could he possibly shun her bed?
He laid on his back and turned his head toward the fire that made shadows dance on the walls. The bed creaked as Jocelyn turned toward him.
Her hand felt hot on his chest. “Wulfstan?”
He turned his head back to her and stared into her lovely, brown eyes.
She ran her hand across his chest, and the corners of her eyes creased as she smiled. “The pleasure you just gave me was incredible. Now ’tis your turn.”
His stomach dropped. “How so?”
Her gaze lowered. She was looking at his erection. It felt enormous.
“It yearns for me,” she said. “I cannot leave it out in the cold.”
He swallowed hard. He knew just how warm she was…inside as well as out. “Jocelyn, I—”
“Shh. You’ve waited long enough. Lay down your burdens, and find comfort with me.”
He gritted his teeth. “You know I cannot.”
“That’s your head talking. But your body wants what it wants.” Her hand slid downward and closed around his swollen member.
He gasped. His heart raced. “What are you doing?”
“’Tis quite obvious. I’m bringing him home.”
“Him?” Wulfstan almost laughed, until she tugged on his manhood. He squeezed his eyes shut as she began to stroke him.
“Do you like how that feels?”
“Aye,” he rasped.
“Then you’ll like this even more.”
In a flash, she was up and sitting astride him. His eyes flew open as she pulled his member toward its mate.
He seized her hips and rolled her onto her back. Breathless, he hovered over her. “Have you no respect for my wishes?”
“I’ve tried to respect them. But now…”
“What?”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “I just want you inside me.”
He groaned and kissed her with all the force of his unspent passion. He poised the tip of his manhood at the mouth of heaven. She was so wet. So willing.
Her arms locked around him. “Now we’ll truly be one, and our child will grow inside me.”
He went rigid. “Woden’s blood!”
“Wulfstan?”
He pulled away and scrambled off the bed. What a fool I’ve been! He snatched his braies from the floor and hurried into them.
Jocelyn sat up in bed. “What’s happening?”
He stalked to the fireplace and grabbed his tunic from the chair. “I shouldn’t have let this go so far.”
“No, you shouldn’t be leaving,” she countered.
He dressed quickly. All the while, she watched him, but as he fastened his belt, she leapt off the bed and advanced toward him.
He couldn’t let her get too close. She looked so fetching that even now, ’twas all he could do not to swoop her up in his arms and carry her back to bed.
“Stop where you are,” he said.
She halted, then frowned. “Why?”
“I’ll have no more of your wiles.”
With eyes narrowed, she clenched her fists. “Wiles? How dare you accuse me of—”
“What? The truth?”
“I wanted to give myself to you, body and soul. And I wanted the same from you.”
Relentless, rapacious, the fire vexed his back. “At what cost?”
“Certainly not the one you imagine.”
Heat coursed through him. “So my beliefs are nothing more than the product of my imagination.”
She held up her hands. “I didn’t say that.”
“If you took on my mantle for even a day, you’d understand.”
“If you got me with child, I’d leave you alone!”
His heart shriveled. “Oh. So that’s it.” His limbs felt heavy, as though pulled toward the floor.
She bit her lip. “That came out wrong. What I meant was—”
“I know what you meant. And I should’ve guessed it all along.”
She stepped forward. “Wulfstan, I—”
“Save your explanations.” Avoiding her gaze, he started for the door.
“If you’ll just listen to me!”
He opened the door and paused at the threshold. “Good Yule to you,” he said without turning. In a daze, he stepped outside and shut the door behind him.
Chapter Seventeen
The morning found Jocelyn strolling along the village road back toward the castle. Beside her trod Alice; up ahead, Edith and Freya. The four of them—along with a sizable number of the keep’s inhabitants—were returning from the dawn Christmas mass in the village. Wulfstan was not among the party.
Most of the snow had melted, and the women in the group did their best to trade muddy patches for drier ground whenever possible. All except for Jocelyn, who observed the mud-spattered hem of her russet gown with little interest.
Alice cleared her throat. “My lady?”
“Hmm?”
“All is not lost.”
Jocelyn glared at a small rock and kicked it out of her path. “Then why does it feel that way?”
“Could it be that you care more for his lordship than you’re willing to admit?”
A lump formed in Jocelyn’s throat as she remembered crying herself to sleep. She took a deep breath, then sighed. “What good could come of admitting it?”
“You never know.”
They walked in silence for another minute before Alice piped up again. “I would speak with Edith. Would your ladyship mind if I caught up with her?”
“Not at all, Alice. Go ahead.”
The handmaiden scuttled forward and began an animated discussion with Edith. Freya glanced over her shoulder at Jocelyn. The two shared smiles, but Freya kept to Edith’s side.
Jocelyn adjusted her headdress. She’d kept her promise to Wulfstan and wore it in the village. Too bad he wasn’t there to see it.
Someone else came alongside Jocelyn and fell into step with her. Jocelyn turned her head, and her eyes widened as she recognized the crone she’d chased the day before.
“Good morrow, my lady,” the
woman said.
Jocelyn kept walking. “So you can speak.”
“Aye.”
“Who are you?”
After a brief hesitation, the woman said, “Someone of no consequence…unlike you and Lady Sigrid before you.”
“Have you a name?”
Again, she hesitated. “Your ladyship may call me Grizzel.”
Intuition fed Jocelyn a question. “Did you know Lady Sigrid?”
“I did.”
“In what capacity?”
“You might say we were friends. Many moons ago.”
Jocelyn glanced sidewise at her. “Close friends?”
Grizzel shrugged. “Lady Sigrid’s studies always took precedence. She used them to keep her distance…from everyone.”
“Hmph.”
“Her son shares the same tendency and also keeps his distance.”
“Oh, he excels at that.” Jocelyn’s boot splashed into another puddle.
“And you wish he didn’t?”
Jocelyn’s stomach churned. She’d never meant to hurt Wulfstan, but hurt him she had. Her accursed words reverberated in her mind. If you got me with child, I’d leave you alone!
If he’d only let her explain, let her make things right. She shook her head to clear it.
“I don’t know what I wish,” she said at last.
“You know right enough,” Grizzel remarked. “You’re just afraid.”
“Afraid? Of what?”
The woman’s gaze kept to the road. “Of his indifference. Of the possibility he might never care as much for you as you care for him.”
Jocelyn pursed her lips. “Can you read minds?”
“I cannot. But I’m a keen observer.” Grizzel pointed to Freya and lowered her voice. “I’ve had my eyes on that one for some time.”
As though she sensed Grizzel’s attention, Freya turned and stared at her. Her eyes narrowed, and she frowned. Then she whirled back around and huddled closer to Edith as they neared the gatehouse.
“So like her brother,” Grizzel muttered. “Forever hiding. It must stop sometime.”
Jocelyn’s heart beat faster. Heat surged through her. “That time is now. Would you excuse me?”
Jocelyn hastened through the gatehouse, across the bailey, and into the keep. The solar was empty. She quickly removed her mantle and headdress and chucked them onto a chair.
Next stop, the great hall. All alone in front of the dais, Harold bent over to look beneath one of the trestle tables.
Soul of the Wolf Page 14