by Lydia Dare
“As I am?”
“Exactly as you are.” She nodded. “I always have.”
Will took the wet cloth from her hand and lifted her hair. He gently bathed her neck, wiping away all the remnants of Brimsworth. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he asked softly, his voice leaden with concern.
“No. But I was so worried for you.”
“How did you know it was me?” he asked as he tugged at the hem of her chemise and drew it over her head, leaving her wearing nothing but her garters and stockings.
“I’m not inept, William. As soon as I learned what you were, I knew you were my wolf.” She smiled at him. “I think a part of me always knew it was you. But it seemed so ludicrous an idea that I wouldn’t let myself believe a wolf could remind me so much of a man I loved.”
Will bent his head and began to place small kisses along the side of her neck. She shivered. “Will you claim me now?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “No.” His lips moved down to draw the hardened peak of one breast into his mouth. She arched her back to get closer to him.
“Yes, you will,” she cried, when he began to torment the other breast with his fingertips. “You have to. I’m your mate.”
“No.” He chuckled again.
“William Westfield, if you tell me I have to wait another month to be claimed, I will make you sleep in the guest room.”
He pretended to give that some thought. But only for a moment. Then his fingers walked down her belly and tangled in her curls.
“I’ll claim you when your pleasure is at its greatest,” he whispered. “Now, do be quiet so I can get you there,” he growled.
Prisca pushed him from her and stood up quickly. “Oh, no, you don’t. You will not pleasure me again and not take any for yourself. I’ll not allow it!”
He let her give him a small shove until he landed on his bottom on the rock she’d been sitting on. She glanced down at his manhood, which stood tall and proud between them.
“In fact, I’d imagine I can give you a bit of the same pleasure you give me.”
Prisca bent and placed her hand on him, looking as though she marveled at the feel of his skin. “I believe I just figured out what you keep in your pocket.” She glanced up at him once before she kissed the tip of his shaft lightly, her lips fleeting and quick. He growled and reached for her, forcing her to fight his hands as he tried to push her away.
“I can’t take much of this, Prissy,” he growled, lifting a knuckle to his mouth to bite down.
“You’ll take what I give you,” she said flippantly.
“Dear God, I love you,” he gasped out as she took the tip of him into her mouth.
“Tell me if I do something wrong,” she said as she lifted her mouth from around his length for a brief moment. Then she resumed her task. His eyes closed as he arched to meet her.
“That’s enough, Priss,” he barked. When she didn’t listen, he threaded his fingers into her hair and yanked. He applied just enough pressure to make it painful. She reluctantly let go.
Before she could let out one cheeky comment, he picked her up and laid her gently on her discarded dress. She shivered. “It’s cold.”
“I’ll warm you up,” he grunted.
Then he spread his body over hers, and though she lay naked on the freezing forest floor, she felt as warm as if she were in a sunny parlor. She giggled.
“What’s funny?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she snorted. It was all so absolutely absurd.
“You choose now to laugh at me?” He pursed his lips together and just looked down at her for a moment.
“I have never seen the great William Westfield at a loss for words. Is the greatest lover in three counties speechless at the sight of his wife?” she teased.
“Six,” he said as he scratched the beard stubble on his face.
“Six what?” she asked.
“Six counties,” he corrected her. “I was named the greatest lover in six counties. Do get it right, love.”
“A bit boastful, aren’t we?” she asked as he opened her legs slowly and settled between them. Of course, she believed him, since he’d brought her such ecstasy for the past few days. But it was much more fun to tease him. “Six counties seems a bit far-reaching.”
“Give me time,” he growled. “I’ll prove it to you.”
“I’ll have nothing to compare it with, will I? Am I just to take your word that you’re such a great lover?”
“And you never will have anything to compare it with, Prissy.” He bent his head and gently tugged at her nipple, already hard and standing at attention. “From this day forward, you are mine. All mine,” he said as he met her gaze.
“I will expect no less than the same,” she informed him, hating that her voice hesitated a bit.
“Always,” he grunted.
Will lifted her hands over her head, where he could hold them with one hand. She tugged against his hold. “I only have one chance to do this right.” His eyes met hers. “So, don’t distract me.” Not a trace of humor rested in the depths. She nodded briefly. He released his hold on her hands. “You can use them to touch me,” he suggested.
“Where?”
“Anywhere you like,” he chuckled.
“Where would you like?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?”
She had to think about that. “Maybe when I’m nervous,” she said as he cupped her breasts and lifted one to his waiting mouth. He took her nipple between his lips and rolled it, then gently pulled it with his teeth. The sight of him manipulating her most sensitive flesh with his mouth caused a flush of warmth in her middle.
Bravely, she let her fingers trail up his length. He growled and pulled her hand from him.
“You said I could touch you,” she protested.
“Later,” he grunted as he settled his hips more firmly between her thighs and probed at her center. He moved against her, gently prodding her flesh.
“Will?” she asked, drawing his attention to her face. He drew in a deep breath.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For letting me make love to you, for letting me claim you.”
She felt that little flip in her belly again. “Is it normal for me to…?” she let her voice trail off.
“To what?” he asked, before he drew her nipple into his mouth. She arched her back as he continued to tongue the hard bud, while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger.
“To feel so desperate for you to take me?”
“It’s better than normal,” he groaned. “It’s stupendous.”
“Please, Will,” she begged, closing her eyes, nearly afraid of the sensations she was experiencing.
“What will it feel like?” she asked. But then he actually entered her body. He thrust inside her, moving slowly, taking more of her with each small stroke. She turned her head and kissed the side of his arm, which quivered with the weight of him as he held himself above her.
“Patience, love,” he said quietly. “I’ll answer all your questions.”
He stilled within her, just as she felt a small sting of pain. “Why does that hurt?”
“Because this is the first time I’ve been inside you,” he whispered, his voice now trembling as much as his arms.
“How long will it last?” she questioned as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. But then his fingers slipped between them, into her curls, and he began to rub her most sensitive places.
“Don’t answer that!” she cried as he moved so far inside her that he could push no more. “It’s already better.”
“Would you stop talking?” he laughed.
She cried out as he withdrew and entered her again and then found a rhythm, moving inside her, making them one. All she could think was that this was Will. This was Will, and she was naked. And he was naked and he was hot and hard inside of her, stroking all the right places. Stroking her so well she could scream from the pleasu
re of it. Yet some elusive sensation hung just outside of her grasp. She reached and reached and couldn’t catch it.
Will pushed her legs farther apart and raised her knees. He cupped her bottom, tilting her toward him. When he did, she could take even more of him. She arched to meet him. Closer. Please get closer to me, Will. She lifted her feet and put them on the backs of his calves, pressing herself closer and closer.
Finally, Will took pity on her as her head thrashed on the ground. He said, “Stop thinking. Just feel. I am inside you. Come for me, Priss.”
Then she did. She cried out as pleasure exploded within her body. Every part of her quaked and trembled with the ecstasy of it. Then he tensed above her and simply looked down into her eyes. Prisca pushed her hair back from her throat and tugged his head down with a pull of the back of his neck. Will began to stroke within her again, the pleasure only intensified by the wild glint in his eyes.
“Take me,” she cried, when the pleasure became so great she couldn’t take any more.
Will’s lips touched the sensitive skin at the base of her neck so softly she barely felt it. She thought once of protesting, but then he surged even harder inside her as he licked across the area. But out of all the times he’d pleasured her, she’d never reached the heights she did when he finally took her over the top, exploded within her, and grunted out the word, “Mine,” just before his teeth pierced her tender flesh.
He rested atop her, his breaths heavy as he brushed her damp hair from her face and kissed her quickly. A smile unlike any she’d ever seen graced his lips. “Are you all right?”
She nodded quickly, too overcome with emotion even to voice her thoughts.
As though he could read her mind, he put a finger over her lips and said, “Don’t even ask that question. I’ll answer truthfully. It has never been that way for me before.” Then he rolled to the side and drew her over to lie on his chest.
Prisca closed her eyes, content to let the world continue spinning around her, if only for a while. She’d never imagined such bliss was possible, and she knew it was decadent to allow herself to bask in it. Still, she couldn’t help herself. For so long, she’d wanted him, loved him, and wished for the impossible.
Will’s hand stroked her side, and she sighed. She’d lived within the midst of wolves forever and hadn’t even known it. Now that she did, she’d not change a thing.
Thirty-Eight
“YOU BIT ME,” PRISCA SAID AS SHE PLAYFULLY smacked Will’s chest. Morning light streamed through their window.
“Hmm,” he agreed before capturing her hand in his and nipping at her palm.
Prisca giggled and jabbed him in the ribs. “You should have done it sooner. Years ago, in fact.”
Will sat up in their bed to examine the mark he’d left on her neck the night before. Crescent shaped, like his mouth, it was a little red. He gently touched it with his finger. “Does it hurt?”
She cupped his jaw with her hands and shook her head, her violet eyes twinkling. “It hurt more when I thought you just didn’t want me.”
“No more secrets,” he promised.
“No more secrets,” she echoed before collapsing against his chest. Her ear pressed against his heart.
Will wrapped his arms around her, reveling in the rightness of the world. Prisca had always managed to calm the wild beast within him, but now that same peace seemed to encompass everything around them. The sun seemed brighter. The bed seemed softer. His love for Prisca was stronger, which he hadn’t even known was possible. Everything was the same, only better. For once Ben was right about something.
“What do you suppose Blackmoor did with Lord Brimsworth?” she asked, breaking him from his reverie.
Will hadn’t given the golden wolf another thought, not after Prisca had fully accepted him. He shook his head, now wondering the same thing. “I’m not sure. But, I’m certain Simon showed him more mercy than I would have. You don’t ever have to worry about him again, Priss. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded against his chest. “I feel different, Will. I feel you inside me. That sounds strange, I know.”
“I’ve marked you. You’re mine, and he won’t have the urge to seek you out again.”
“Like a dog’s territory?” she laughed. “How flattering.”
With a playful slap to her bottom, Will kissed her brow. “Speaking of territory, how do you feel about Scotland? I have that manor in Dumfriesshire that Father left to me. We’d be closer to Ben and Elspeth.”
She turned up her pert little nose at that. “I like Elspeth, but I could do without Caitrin Macleod.”
Will couldn’t help but chuckle.
“And she said the others in her coven throw fireballs and control the weather. I think that’s a bit too dramatic for me.”
“But the brothers Hawthorne are just the right amount of drama?”
She shrugged. “Oh, I know how to manage them, and I haven’t even started on my five separate plans of vengeance.”
“Heaven help them.” He laughed.
She grinned. “Will?”
“Hmm.”
“I’m starving.”
Breakfast was always a casual affair after a moonful. The rest of the Lycans returned from the woods with their wives as the sun rose over the horizon. The women cast shy glances at one another. When she saw them in the breakfast room, Prisca felt the need, at first, to cover the wound on her shoulder. But, the more she thought about it, the less she wanted to hide it. She was quite proud to be Will’s Lycan mate.
Will filled her plate for her at the sideboard in the breakfast room, and she settled down beside him, surprised to find she was ravenously hungry.
Will pushed her hair to the side so he could see the mark on her neck. He leaned over and kissed her cheek and then whispered, “The moonful makes me hungry, too.”
“Well,” Simon began after a sip of coffee, “you should know that Major Forster has sent the Earl of Brimsworth to Glasgow.”
The old officer nodded. “I have a cousin there who I think can mentor the man better than I could.”
Will growled under his breath.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Simon said. “But he has been dealt with. The major saw to that. And Brimsworth gave his word as a gentleman that he wouldn’t return here.”
“As a gentleman?” Prisca echoed. He seemed the furthest thing from that, the feral, golden wolf still fresh in her mind.
Will sighed beside her. “He gave his word?” At Simon’s nod, he looked at Prisca. “His honor means everything to him. If he gave his word, we have nothing to worry about.”
Well, if Will believed it, she trusted him. She smiled at her husband and then took a sip of tea.
When the butler entered the breakfast room, Elspeth asked him, “Have you seen Miss Macleod, Billings? Or is she sleepin’ late this morning?”
The older man looked slightly uncomfortable. “She left for home a couple of hours ago, actually.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a note. “She did leave word for you, my lady.”
Elspeth took the bit of foolscap and tore into it quickly. Her eyebrows arched and she shrugged as she said, “She says she forgot her father’s birthday is approachin’. And she needed ta return home posthaste. She extends her thanks for allowin’ her ta stay as long as ye did.” She addressed the last to Simon and Lily. A frown marred Elspeth’s pretty features.
Ben’s hand reached to cover hers. “Do you think that’s all it is?”
“I donna ken what she’s thinking. Mr. Macleod’s birthday is in April. I suppose April’s approachin’, but it’s no’ right around the corner.”
“We’ll send a note to make certain she’s all right,” Ben suggested.
Then they all shoved Miss Macleod’s absence from their minds and concentrated on the meal. Finally, Simon pulled Lily to her feet and said, “We’re going to catch a few hours of sleep. I suggest you all do the same.” As he walked by Prisca, he touched his hand to the top of he
r head and said, “Welcome to the family, my dear.”
Epilogue
Westfield Hall, Hampshire
December 1817
WILL TUGGED PRISCA TOWARD WHAT HE PROMISED WAS a secluded parlor. She was surprised he’d managed to locate a place that was not occupied by one family member or another. Westfield Hall was nearly bursting at the seams.
At the moment, her father and all of her brothers were overcrowding the manor. Benjamin and Elspeth, along with their darling daughter Rose, had arrived a few hours previously. Major Forster and Alice were cooing over their grandchild at this very moment. Oliver York was also in residence, along with a few of his friends he’d brought home with him from Harrow. While Simon and Lily were playing host to everyone, Will had quietly pulled Prisca away from the din.
“What is it?” she whispered, as he shut the door behind him.
With a mischievous smile, Will rummaged around in his pocket and then extracted a tiny bit of mistletoe. He’d secreted her away for a kiss? She couldn’t help but laugh. “William Westfield, you don’t need mistletoe to kiss me…”
He held it over her protruding belly and pressed his lips to where their child grew inside her. In response, their baby kicked its foot wildly. Will traced his hands across her stomach and whispered, “Come on, little fellow, don’t make us wait too much longer to introduce yourself.”
Prisca rolled her eyes and batted his hands away. “Somewhere along the way, I do believe you’ve lost your mind.”
Will winked at her. “It’s just a bit of encouragement. Can you imagine the look on Simon’s face when you deliver before Lily?”
Prisca laughed. “I had no idea it was a competition.”
“Of course, it’s a competition. Did you see all the attention little Rose has received?” Will pocketed his mistletoe. “It’s about time this little one made his appearance.”
“On that, you and Papa agree. He is quite ready to be a grandfather.”