The Fall of The Wolf (Historical Romance)

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The Fall of The Wolf (Historical Romance) Page 20

by Lynn Coppersmith


  He lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the rug in front of the fireplace. He quickly stripped off his clothes and joined her. She reached for him, just as eager as he was to have him inside her. He thrust into her molten depths, groaning as her inner muscles clamped onto his shaft. They settled into a slow rhythm, taking the most satisfying and scenic route to heaven.

  Much later, they lay entwined on the rug, naked, relaxed and sated. Rafe chuckled softly, and Eleta turned to him with a questioning smile.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking. Music has always been associated with pleasure for me, but that tops the list.”

  Eleta settled her chin on his chest as she smiled up at him. “Did I satisfy you as well as Madame Sophie?” she asked teasingly.

  He fondled her bottom with a grin. “You’re not jealous are you love?”

  Eleta huffed and turned her nose up. “Of course not! I merely want to ensure that my performance was adequate.”

  Rafe laughed and fondled her bottom with bold familiarity. “Yes, little one. You are far more talented at pleasing me than Madame Sophie or any other woman I’ve ever known, for that matter. You needn’t be jealous. However, just like music, you could always do with more practice.”

  “Ungrateful rogue,” she teased.

  She kissed him once again. Just as he was starting to deepen the kiss, they heard a wolf howling somewhere nearby. Another wolf answered, even nearer. The sound was haunting, and Eleta shivered slightly. She grinned down at Rafe.

  “Friends of yours?”

  He chuckled and pulled her on top of him. He bent one arm beneath his head so he could see her better. “Perhaps, love. Would you like me to introduce you?”

  “No, thanks. I’m glad we decided to stay indoors today.”

  “Me too,” he replied.

  He stroked her hair, relishing the softness as the strands sifted through his fingers. He had never felt such peaceful contentment. It was somewhat amazing how quickly he had adjusted to his new reality, and he wondered how she felt about things.

  Rafe wanted to press her about her feelings and to discuss their future. However, he had promised not to question or pry. He grudgingly accepted that it was not the right time. Instead, he focused on just enjoying the moments with her.

  “Why are your frowning?” Eleta asked softly.

  Rafe gave her a reassuring smile. “No reason, love.” He kissed her and then rolled her beneath him, settling between her thighs. He broke off the kiss to grin down at her. “I was just thinking that, like my friends outside, I’m hungry again.”

  “Aren’t you ever satisfied, my wolf?” she asked with mock exasperation.

  “Never,” he avowed. He slid into her welcoming depths. She was already wet and ready for him, and his grin deepened. “Neither are you, apparently.”

  “Impertinent knave! Have you no respect for your queen? Remind me to discipline you for your insolence later,” she said with a haughty toss of her head. “For now…get on with it for heaven’s sake!”

  Rafe chuckled and rocked her with another deep stroke. “Your wish is my command, your Majesty!”

  He rode her up the mountain, taking the longest possible route to the summit. He used every ounce of skill to pleasure her. He might not be able to speak his mind, but he was determined to bind her to him until she couldn’t conceive of being with another man. He would enslave her with pleasure. Then, when the time was right, he would wring a commitment from her beautiful, lush lips. When they finally reached the peak, they jumped into the abyss together. His last conscious thought was to wonder whether he was enslaving her or himself.

  *****

  The next few days passed much too swiftly. Eleta and Rafe played and laughed together like children. They went for walks and explored the forest around the lodge. They cooked meals together, and often ate them in the music room. They continued to explore their shared love of music. True to his word, Rafe continued her lessons. Eleta was surprised to realize that her playing had greatly improved. Madame Sophie’s methods were truly ingenious. Although Eleta was no great musical genius, she had never played better than when she was working to win Rafe’s approval. Playing music had never been so rewarding.

  Rafe surprised her by playing the harpsichord as well as she did, and they sat side by side on the bench and sang duets together, some romantic and some bawdy and playful. Their voices blended as beautifully as their bodies did, and they both relished the hours spent there.

  They spent an even greater number of hours just talking and getting to know one another. They discussed their likes and dislikes. They talked about politics, philosophy, religion, and how to improve the running of their country. They were pleasantly surprised to find that on most subjects, they were in accord. In the areas where they disagreed, they took pleasure in lively debate, challenging one another’s beliefs. They admired one another for their keen minds and ready wit.

  Of course, much of their time was not spent talking. They engaged in lovemaking frequently and with a seemingly endless appetite. They were captivated by each other. The more generously they gave pleasure to each other, the more pleasure they each found for themselves. They explored the boundaries of their sexuality, but Eleta noticed that Rafe sometimes pulled back when least expected. While she never asked, she suspected his hesitance was because she was the queen. She determined that before the week was out, she would coax him into abandoning all his inhibitions. She was determined to pleasure him in every possible way while she had the chance.

  Even as things were, Eleta thoroughly enjoyed everything they did together. Rafe teased her and tormented her. She adored it when he made her submit to him. It was so very different from how she was used to being treated, and it never failed to excite and delight her. The flames of their passion were always smoldering, like embers in the fireplace. With just a glance or an innocent touch, they could be kindled into a raging fire.

  Their shared baths became an everyday ritual. Many a pleasant interlude was initiated there, and it was good that the tub was such a sturdy vessel. There had likely never been a pair so devoted to their ablutions!

  Rafe was just as enthralled as she was. He was well and truly caught in Eleta’s snare. He had finally found the love he had always sought. He had no intention of letting her go. Eleta brought joy to every moment of every day. She seemed to know what he needed, and her warmth and generous spirit healed his wounded soul. She made up for a lifetime of loneliness, and he couldn’t imagine ever going back to a life without her by his side.

  He knew there was much for them to discuss. They were each betrothed to others. Those agreements would have to be broken, for Rafe would not rest until he made Eleta his wife. He was anxious to discuss his desires with her, but he knew she was not ready. She was keeping some important secrets from him. He knew they would have to address those before he could ask her to marry him. He was not a normally patient man, and it galled him to wait. However, he had agreed to wait for her to enlighten him, and he trusted her promise that all would be revealed.

  Eleta had never felt such happiness. Rafe fulfilled her in a way she had never realized a man could do. For so long, she had been taught to think of men as pawns in a dangerous game. She had long ago given up her girlish fantasies about romance and love. All of a sudden, she realized the possibilities for happiness, if only she were with the man she loved. She realized that if things were different, Rafe could have been not only her mate but her life partner, helping her to rule the nation. With that realization came both ecstasy and despair.

  How cruel was fate to dangle Rafe before her and taunt her with the knowledge she could not enjoy a lifetime with him! She had only a few days and nights in which to love him. Then, she knew for the rest of her lifetime, she would feel only desolation and loss. Her only consolation was that she would have Rafe’s child. She could lavish all the love she felt for Rafe on his offspring. At least she would have some part of him with her always.

&n
bsp; Eleta buried these thoughts as soon as they occurred to her. She could not focus on the prophecy without missing the joy of the week she had been given to spend with him. She was determined not to waste a moment of the precious time she had with Rafe. She steadfastly pushed worries about her mission to the back of her mind. But as the days and nights passed fleetingly, one after another, a growing sense of doom and despair loomed over her despite her best efforts to stay focused only on the moment.

  In the early dawn hours after their sixth night as lovers, Eleta lay in Rafe’s arms as she listened to his deep, even breathing. He was snuggled against her back with his arm draped over her waist. He was deeply asleep, and she smiled wistfully as his hot breath feathered her temple. Their lovemaking had been even more poignant and passionate than ever before. Rafe had touched her very soul, and she felt safe and cherished and loved in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

  She had only one more day and night with Rafe, and she intended to make every second count. She would shower him with all the love she could. He still had not stepped beyond the boundaries he had set for himself, and she was determined to make him do so. She would use their last night to lead him out of his self imposed strictures, and then, she would use her body to lavish him with adoration.

  She would devote herself to indulging his every desire. She would do her best to make his last hours as pleasurable as it was possible for them to be. She would devote herself to fulfilling his every fantasy, and she would joyfully accept his seed into her womb and nurture it lovingly in her body. And then, on the dawn of the eighth day, she would perform her duty and fulfill the terrible prophecy.

  Eleta didn’t know how she would find the strength to kill her beloved. He was supposed to be her enemy. She had been taught to hate him. He was a threat to all her people. And yet, with every drop of blood in her body, she adored him. Silent tears slid down her cheeks, and she felt her heart breaking. She must have trembled with her sobs, because Rafe roused and nuzzled her hair. His voice was raspy with sleep.

  “What’s wrong, love? Are you cold?”

  He tucked the quilt more securely around her. Eleta’s throat was too clogged to answer, so she merely shook her head. For several minutes, they lay in silence. Rafe stroked her hair and her breathing slowed. When she had regained her composure, she turned in his arms to face him. Her eyes locked with his, and she willed him to see the truth in her eyes as she spoke softly.

  “I love you, Rafe! I love you like I never thought it was possible to love anyone. No matter what happens between us, please never forget that.”

  Rafe rose on one elbow and cradled her jaw in his hand. He kissed her with a gentleness that melted her heart. When he lifted his head once more, his eyes were glowing.

  “I know,” he stated simply. “I love you just as much. Our love is strong enough to see us through whatever it is that you are worried about, Eleta. You have to trust me, and you have to trust yourself. I refuse to believe that we have found each other only to be torn apart again. If we work together, we can overcome anything.”

  Eleta desperately wished she could share his optimism, but she knew what was coming. She closed her eyes to hide her desperation and pulled him down for another kiss.

  “Make love to me, Rafe. I need you.”

  He needed no further encouragement. With tender care, he once again pushed her worries into the grey nether regions of her mind as the flame of their passions flickered to life once more and their hearts soared free.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rodney Terrell, the ninth Duke of Livius, paced the floor in the parlor of his suite in the queen’s palace. He was desperate for news from his manservant, Justin. The duke had been staying here at the palace, at the queen’s invitation, for several weeks. As her betrothed, he was being groomed to accept the role of her prince consort, and anticipation of that gave him the greatest satisfaction.

  Of course, the queen was beautiful and highly desirable. Livius looked forward to bedding her. The idea of debauching a queen inspired all manner of lewd fantasies. He was ready and willing to tutor her in her wifely duties. Images of her lush lips wrapped around his cock while he reclined in her royal bed held definite appeal. Still, his first priority would be to get her with child in order to cement his place as her consort. Once that was accomplished, she would surely be amenable to seeing to all his other carnal needs.

  However, it was not thoughts of the marriage bed that made the duke anticipate their union so eagerly. It was his overwhelming greed and desire for power that spurred him on. Once he was wed to the queen, he would convince her to unite their forces and attack his most hated enemy, the Duke of Argyle. That useless cur and his family had been allowed to wallow in power for far too long. It was past time to destroy the wolf and to take over his lands and wealth once and for all.

  The duke had been plotting this for years. He had orchestrated a campaign to ensure the queen hated the wolf. Livius had hired mercenaries to raid the queen’s lands and terrorize her people. He always ensured the raiders were smuggled onto the queen’s lands clandestinely. Then, they would launch their attacks and flee to the wolf’s lands in the eastern province, as if that was their home base. The ploy had worked flawlessly. The queen never suspected that she was being duped, and Livius was able to cast blame on his rival. The longer the raids went on, the more the queen felt she needed a trusted ally, and he was only too happy to step forward.

  The duke had worked tirelessly to cultivate the queen’s favor. It had gone against his nature to bow and scrape, but he had done so, nonetheless. He had flattered and smiled until his face hurt, and finally, he had won the queen for himself. Once her troops were merged with his own powerful army, he would be able to crush the wolf as he had dreamed of doing for so long. Those loyal to Argyle were sure to come around once they realized that their country could be united under an even stronger master. And, of course, the queen’s charm and popularity among her subjects would provide assistance with consolidating his new position. The duke was certain that once he was the prince and had given the queen a few children to focus on, she would be more than happy to leave ruling the country to him.

  The only problem was that, having come so far, the queen had disappeared, and no one seemed to know where she was. She had been gone for nearly two weeks. Plans for the royal wedding were proceeding smoothly. None of the queen’s attendants seemed the least bit worried that she was nowhere to be found. The duke needed to know where she was, so he had dispatched his manservant Justin to find out for him.

  Gathering information from those who didn’t wish to give it was Justin’s specialty. He used a variety of methods. He was a keen observer, and he often noticed clues and patterns that others missed. Justin was also a master at discovering a person’s weak point. He would find some way to exert leverage, whether it be blackmail or physical intimidation, and then he would extract the information he sought, like a surgeon extracted a tooth. And best of all, he was adept at doing all that without anyone else finding out. The fact that he had not reported back to the duke for several days was highly unusual, and Livius was growing ever more restless and anxious.

  A small scratching noise on the door made the duke pause in his pacing. He crossed and opened the portal. Seeing Justin, he gave a sigh of relief and ushered him inside.

  “Well? What have you learned?” the duke demanded.

  Justin gave him a weaselly grin and plopped into a chair without waiting to be asked. “You are not going to like it, your Grace.”

  “Come on, come on, spit it out!”

  Justin’s grin widened. “The queen’s attendants are all very loyal, sir. They are as close mouthed as a bunch of clams. Obtaining information hasn’t been easy. My usual methods haven’t worked. I was beginning to think that either no one knew what is going on or that no one would be willing to talk about it. But I finally managed to catch a break. I stumbled across two of the queen’s tutors and most trusted advisors. They were alone in the q
ueen’s council room, and they were enjoying a few tankards of ale. Posing as a footman, I slipped a little something extra into their jug of ale, and then I eavesdropped on their cozy conversation. Let me tell you, sir, that new concoction really works. It loosens tongues and makes people lose their inhibitions like you wouldn’t believe. It certainly worked on those two. My ears were burning from what I heard.”

  The duke of Livius looked like he might explode with impatience at any minute as he stood looking down at him. “Well, tell me!” he shouted.

  “Seems like the queen has been in training for quite some time.” Justin waited for the duke to inquire further, relishing the tidbit he was about to reveal. “To hear them talk, she’s an extremely talented pupil.”

  “Training?” the duke asked with a puzzled frown. “What manner of training?”

  “As far as I can determine, sir, she’s been training to become a whore.”

  “What?” The duke backhanded Justin hard across the mouth. “Mind your tongue, knave! You happen to be talking about my future wife.”

  Justin wiped a hand across his bloody lip but still grinned. He was used to the duke’s vile temper, and he didn’t let it bother him. While he despised the duke, Justin happened to love his work, and the duke paid generously enough for him to overlook an occasional beating. But it was rare to be in a position to exact some measure of revenge against the duke, and Justin relished the position he found himself in at that moment. He continued with his tale as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

  “I overheard the two men talking. They have been tutoring the queen for years. Seems the queen has been learning to seduce men and practicing her skills on the male servants for quite some time. Hearing some of the things she did…I can tell you, sir, it didn’t sound at all like the proper behavior for a queen. I don’t know what has been going on in her private chambers, but she certainly seems to have a penchant for virile male attendants.”

 

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