The Fall of The Wolf (Historical Romance)

by Lynn Coppersmith

  She shrugged nonchalantly, bringing his attention to the creamy expanse of her bared shoulders. “I’m sure that could be arranged, your Grace.” She nibbled her bottom lip as she smiled up at him with an impish grin. “Although, I am having such fun watching you try to figure out who I am.” She leaned back against him, clutched his hips, and pressed the globes of her bottom intimately against his loins. She feigned a pout and sighed. “Am I so forgettable then, after all?”

  Rafe would have vehemently denied that possibility if it would not have made him seem like a liar. He honestly could not believe that he had no memory of this delectable creature. She was, by far, the most beautiful and desirable woman he could ever recall seeing. He walked around her again, dredging his memory for any clue to her identity. Something about her was definitely familiar. He just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. She claimed they had already been lovers, but he would have sworn differently. He thought he knew her from somewhere, but he doubted he had entertained her in his bed. She was most likely the wife of someone he knew, and she was anxious for a dalliance.

  Mentally shrugging off the nagging question, he embraced her from behind and drew her back into a shadowed alcove where they would not be so easily observed. If she wanted a liaison, he was only too happy to oblige. He skimmed his lips along her slender neck and cupped the fullness of her breasts in both of his palms with bold familiarity. She melted back against him with a sigh and eagerly thrust her breasts more fully into his hands, clearly welcoming his advances.

  Rafe closed his eyes for a long moment, revelling in the feeling of holding her luscious body in his arms. He brushed his thumbs across her nipples and was gratified to feel that they were already hardened nubs beneath the fabric of her gown. He squeezed the tempting buds, and she moaned with pleasure. She squirmed slightly in his arms, once again pressing the fullness of her bottom against his rampant erection, and it was his turn to moan. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this badly, and he wondered if it was because of her blatant sensuality or his recent period of abstinence. She turned abruptly to face him and wound her silken arms around his neck.

  “Are names so very important, your Grace?” She leaned toward him and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. Her breasts pressed intimately against his chest, and her evocative fragrance went straight to his head. “Sometimes,” she whispered huskily, “it is better not to know.”

  Before she withdrew, she traced a stealthy path along the curve of his ear with her tongue. Rafe’s grin was transformed into a strained grimace as he felt a pang of lust like he had never known. His loins tightened to the point of pain as his erection throbbed behind his breeches. Conscious that there was still a room full of his guests just behind him including Lady Gwen’s family and, most likely, this woman’s husband, Rafe took a deep breath. But rather than calm him, he simply got a deeper whiff of her provocative scent…jasmine and some other flower that smelled dark and forbidden.

  As if she knew the effect she was having on him, the woman leaned closer once more. Her lips brushed against his ear and her throaty tone sent a shiver of awareness down his spine.

  “Is there somewhere we could go where we might have more privacy, your Grace? I should very much like to renew our acquaintance.”

  In that instant, Rafe knew exactly how Adam must have felt when he was tempted by Eve. Even if Rafe had wanted to…which he didn’t…there was absolutely no chance that he could refuse this woman’s offer. He didn’t care that it would be entirely dishonorable and a mockery of his recent betrothal to accept her invitation. He didn’t care about his vow to remain celibate until the wedding. He didn’t care whether her jealous husband was somewhere in the crowd behind him. All he cared about was having his wicked way with the temptress in his arms. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he said a word, she turned her head and kissed him, fanning the flames of his desire even further.

  Her succulent lips plucked at his, stealing his every thought as she wove her web around him. She nibbled and teased until he could no longer focus on anything other than her. He wrapped her in his arms and deepened the kiss. He was certain he had never kissed this woman. He would definitely have remembered. She was the very embodiment of all he desired.

  A soft moan escaped her, and the sound only intensified the ache in his shaft. She tasted of some strong sweet wine, and he was quickly drunk on the nectar of her mouth. He broke off from the kiss, and they stared at each other, both breathing raggedly.

  He reached for her hand. “Come, let us go to my chambers.”

  She hung back but gave him a smile of pure feminine temptation. “No, your Grace. I prefer something a bit less…mundane.” She ran a bold finger along the ridge of his arousal and smiled up at him from beneath her lashes.

  When he responded, Rafe was surprised to hear the desperate quality of his voice. He sounded like some nervous youth instead of an experienced rake. “What did you have in mind, my lady?”

  She smiled slyly as if she knew how strained his control had become. She took a step back, and he felt the loss of her touch immediately. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to rip off her clothes, throw her across any available surface and bury his length inside her.

  “Would you show me your library, your Grace?” Her eyes promised all manner of naughty rewards as she met his gaze. “I have always been fascinated by your…books.”

  Her eyes dropped to his throbbing erection, and her smile was positively wicked. It was clear that she was not the least bit interested in his book collection! Still, if acceding to her request would get her into his arms and him embedded into her any faster, he was willing to play along.

  Tossing a quick glance over his shoulder, Rafe ushered her down the hall to the library. He pulled her through the door and bolted it behind him. The room lay in deep shadows from just a few candles scattered around and the low fire burning in the grate. Rafe didn’t waste another moment. He backed her against the wide oak door and ravished her mouth.

  His kisses were ravenous. As he plundered her lips, she moaned and kissed him back, encouraging him to deepen the kiss further. He cupped one hand on her bottom and the other on her breast, groaning as the generous mound more than filled his palm. He ran his thumb inside her low neckline and flicked her nipple. Her breathing hitched, and she arched her back, offering him better access to the luscious orb.

  She wound her arms around his neck as he pressed fully against her. He ground his hips into hers, and she moaned again with clear acceptance, feeling the hard ridge of his erection riding against her lower belly. She toyed with the hair at his nape, and Rafe growled with desire. If he didn’t feel her beneath him soon, he would lose his mind.

  He trailed hot kisses down her neck and over the upper curves of her breasts, gratified to hear her equally urgent cries of pleasure. With the speed born of much practice, he unfastened the top several hooks of her bodice, and her breasts spilled into his greedy hands. It was too dim to see her as he so desperately desired, and Rafe mentally vowed to light a hundred candles the next time he made love to this woman. The fact that he was already thinking about having her a second time struck him as odd, but he pushed the thought aside as he savored her soft flesh. She gasped as he drew one pouting nipple into the fiery cavity of his mouth. He devoured her breast, flicking his tongue repeatedly over the tender nubbin, and tugging none too gently with his teeth. She arched her back and pressed the succulent flesh more fully into his mouth. He released her breast with a groan and kissed his way to the other side, growling as he nipped and tugged the second nipple with his teeth. She clasped his head close to her and moaned her approval.

  Rafe was desperate to sink into her welcoming body. He lifted her hem and slid his fingers to the juncture of her thighs. She responded by lifting one leg around his hip, opening herself eagerly for his touch. He straightened and held her gaze as he stroked her through her silk drawers. She was shockingly hot and dripping with musky fluid. He shivered as he
fondled her. His own urgency was building so quickly that his erection had grown painfully hard.

  “God, I want you!” he cried. “You are so bloody wet. Who the hell are you?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he dove to plunder her mouth again, never pausing in his intimate exploration of her body. He pressed one long finger as deep as he could with the silk barrier still in place, They groaned in unison. He located the sensitive nub of her arousal and flicked it with his thumb as he continued to stroke her through the cloth. She gave a desperate little cry and flexed her hips, grinding her loins against his hand. It took only moments for her to shatter. She gave a small scream of pleasure and gripped his shoulders. Rafe closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he savored her mewling cries. The crotch of her drawers was soaked, and it was all he could do not to climax then and there.

  After several fraught moments, they both opened their eyes. Both of their hearts were pounding, and he was gratified to see that her eyes were heavy lidded with passion. With a possessive growl, Rafe reclaimed her lips as he untied the drawstring to her drawers and pushed them down over her hips. She dropped her knee from his waist and stepped out of them without ever breaking contact with his mouth. He pulled her leg back around him and ground his hips against hers as he deepened the kiss further. He reached to remove her mask and tossed it aside, never pausing as his lips devoured hers. He plunged his other fingers into her glossy black hair, noting how soft it felt as he heard pins scattering on the floor. He could imagine that hair spread over her pillow as he plowed into her welcoming heat. He released another groan, and he began spreading kisses along her jaw and neck as he unbuttoned the flap on his breeches. His aching erection sprang free. He lifted his head, eager for his first sight of her face. His eyes widened in shock and for one split second, he froze. He was staring into the beautiful and very recognizable face of the queen!

  “What the hell?” he gasped, releasing her as if he had been scalded by boiling water. He took a step backward and blinked in astonishment.

  Eleta opened her lips to answer him, but then he noticed her eyes widen slightly as she looked over his shoulder. He began to turn to see what she was looking at. A hulking shadow loomed over him, and before he could gather his wits, he felt a sharp blow at the base of his skull. Rafe slumped to the floor as the world suddenly went black.

  Chapter Four

  As Rafe gradually came back to awareness, he gave a pained moan. His head was throbbing, and it felt as if it might crack open at any moment. His head felt as large as a melon. The swaying motion he was feeling was not helping matters. Combined with the pounding in his head, he thought it just might cause him to throw up.

  Rafe tried to swallow, but his mouth felt like it was full of sawdust. He took a deep breath, trying to ease his nausea, and the smell of sweet jasmine and clean woman wafted through his nose. That scent was startlingly familiar. His eyes opened instantly, and they locked with the warm sherry eyes directly across from him.

  Queen Eleta sat watching him with a delicate frown on her face. Rafe blinked and shook his head to clear it, ignoring the fresh stabs of pain the movement caused. His own brows drew together in the fiercest of scowls. He braced an arm on the seat of the coach and slowly sat up, eyeing her warily the whole time.

  Little did he know that the queen’s thoughts were focused on their brief encounter in the library. She had not intended to let things get so out of hand, especially since she had known that her trusted guardsman was lurking in the shadows. However, when Rafe had pressed her against the door and kissed her so passionately, she had forgotten everything and had simply responded to his touch. Nothing in her extensive sexual training had prepared her for the overwhelming desire she would feel for this man. She had been so caught up in the pleasure of her first climax that she had not even moved to cover herself when Rafe had been knocked unconscious. Sir Eric had averted his eyes and gallantly draped his own cloak around her to cover her naked breasts. Only then, had she managed to recover her scattered wits. Eleta could not allow herself to lose control like that again. She needed to steer their interaction back onto the right path toward fulfilling the prophecy. With that thought in mind, she sat patiently beneath Rafe’s searching gaze.

  As Rafe took in her appearance, his eyes bulged slightly. The twin lanterns in the coach allowed him to see even more detail than he had in the dim hall of his castle. The deep emerald green of her gown accentuated the fairness of her skin and her ebony hair. The garment was lovingly fitted to her curvaceous form, and Rafe’s eyes were drawn repeatedly to the shadowed valley of her cleavage. The generous swells of her breasts fulfilled every fantasy he had of feminine perfection. As the coach rattled and bounced, so did those sumptuous orbs. It was a struggle not to stare. But she was the queen. She was the ultimate forbidden fruit! Unless he was her betrothed or her prince, he had absolutely no right to ogle her. Yet with every jolt of the wheels, Rafe found his eyes kept wandering back to appreciate the sights.

  The queen appeared to be oblivious to his fascination. “How are you feeling?” she asked quietly.

  He cleared his throat to answer, and his voice came out as an ominous growl. “I would feel a lot better if I knew what the hell was going on, your Majesty.”

  “Oh, so you did recognize me,” she replied with a soft chuckle. “I thought so.” Her eyes twinkled as she met his gaze. “I had begun to wonder whether you would ever figure out who I was.”

  Her husky laugh reminded him of their teasing banter…and all that had transpired afterward. He was mortified by the lustful behavior he had already shown his sovereign. Nevertheless, he couldn’t resist another peek at her bosom.

  “Of course I recognize you, ma’am,” Rafe replied with a puzzled frown. “I’ve seen many portraits of you. Your beauty is famous throughout the realm and beyond.”

  He studied her face in detail for the first time. Hair of the deepest ebony was dressed high on her head, leaving the slender column of her neck exposed. Her black hair and elegant brows complemented her lustrous and fair complexion. Her eyes were large and almond shaped. Their color was most unusual, making him think once again of fine sherry. The fact that they were fringed with thick sooty lashes and tilted up slightly at the corners lent them an air of seductive mystery. Her nose was slim, and her cheekbones were high and delicately formed. He would swear the hint of pink riding their outer contours was not the result of rouge. Nor was the deep red of her lips. His eyes were drawn to her lush mouth, and he remembered exactly how those lips felt beneath his own. He barely stifled his groan of longing.

  Rafe’s gaze met hers once more. “The artists did not do you justice, your Majesty. I’m afraid even the most talented of them could not capture the depth and breadth of your loveliness.”

  Eleta gave a smile and small nod to acknowledge the compliment. She had heard many extol her beauty, but she had never felt nervous flutters in her stomach when they did so. The rich timbre of his voice touched something deep within her. She cleared her throat to cover her jitters. She was trying not to remember the liberties she had already allowed this man to take, and she definitely didn’t want to think about all those yet to come. She would lose her focus entirely.

  “I am honored that you know who I am,” she teased. “I had the impression that you could not remember the difference between one woman and another.”

  Rafe’s brows drew together. “Your Majesty, I am afraid you have misjudged me. You can hardly condemn my lack of memory since we had, in fact, never met until now.” He gave her a pointed frown.

  She waved her hand in airy dismissal. “Nevertheless, your Grace, it was quite amusing watching you try to narrow down the many women of your…acquaintance.”

  The emphasis she placed on that last word brought a light flush to his cheeks. She thought his lips twitched ever so slightly. “Ma’am, you can hardly expect that a man of my age should not have had any past lovers.”

  One slim brow arched and she gave him an impish grin.
“True, but neither did I think there would be so many that you would not be able to remember them all.” Seeing him squirm, she gave a soft chuckle and relented. “I apologize for tricking you,” she murmured. “I am afraid it could not be helped.”

  Rafe arched one brow, instantly regretting it. He winced as he gingerly touched the base of his skull, groaning when his fingers probed a small, raised lump.

  Eleta watched him, feeling pangs of remorse. She chided herself for own foolishness. A small bump on the head was nothing compared to what she would eventually have to do to him. She cleared her throat nervously again. She was not used to feeling so unsettled.

  “Would you care for a drink?” she asked sweetly.

  Rafe gazed at her suspiciously, obviously hesitant to accept the flask she was offering.

  She noticed his mistrust and smiled reassuringly. “There is no need to worry,” she chided. “I haven’t poisoned it. See?”

  She raised the flask to her lips and drank deeply. Rafe’s eyes were riveted to her luscious mouth. Once again, he remembered exactly how those same ripe lips had tasted and felt beneath his own. The memory made him instantly hard. A dark flush crept up his throat, and he hoped she would not notice the bulge between his legs. As if she read his thoughts, her eyes dropped to his loins, and then her gaze locked with his. A frisson of awareness passed between them.

  Rafe was more than slightly confused. He knew the queen was still a maiden, but she behaved as if she were no stranger to games of seduction. Unlike the virgin she was reputed to be, she was neither shy nor hesitant. In fact, he had entertained courtesans who were less bold! Memories of what he had done with her in the library caused his flush to rise up his neck and face. It was more than slightly ironic that he felt like an untried youth, and she was behaving like an experienced woman of the world. She seemed to be purposely inflaming his lust with both her actions and her clothing, and he had no idea why. She was betrothed to another man, for heaven’s sake! Against his will, Rafe’s gaze dropped to her bosom once again, and he stifled a groan.