He’d humiliated her, teased her until she thought she’d go insane; then the bastard walked away and left her desperate for more. Her body seethed with sensual hunger, and every stroke of his huge hands had made her want to wrap her arms around him and cling forever.
Stupid fairy princess, falling for the beast who abused her, but with him, her body blossomed into damp heat and liquid longings. The biggest, most awesome wolf she’d ever seen kindled a bonfire of desires inside her, then left her to burn.
Slowly, her body calmed and her thoughts cleared, but while rivers of passion—hot, steamy, and desperate—still pulsed through her veins, embarrassment and shame flooded her soul. She’d failed to find Giles, failed to stop the wedding, and failed to stop the war—plus, her body was on fire for a frustrating, high-handed Lykae.
Once she got loose, she’d make Mr. Arrogance pay for this.
* * * *
Caleb stood in the marble hall as hot and needy as the fairy he’d frustrated. A smile played around his lips when he thought how she’d mistaken him—the king of the combined Lykae packs—for a security guard. If he didn’t know better, he’d believe her innocent act, but seven years ago she’d entangled his brother, Giles, in her web.
The border disputes had almost boiled over into all-out war, but the Lykae king—Caleb and Giles’s father—negotiated a marriage between his younger, beta-natured son and the Fae king’s half sister. The Fae had demanded advantageous trade treaties, and in return the Lykae gained the sole use of the disputed border territories for their packs—but along the way they lost their old king. An Elven assassin’s arrow pumped deadly toxins into him as he’d inspected their new lands.
Caleb inherited the throne, and Giles came home full of tales of how his bride to be had tormented him with her body but demanded gold and jewels before she let him into her bed. Caleb had reimbursed his brother, then led the Lykae to victory against the Elves—but he’d despised Sylvie ever since.
Then, rather than honor the agreement immediately, the Fae king packed his half sister off to the human world to finish her studies.
A year ago Giles admitted he’d fallen for Daphne Drayton—up-and-coming Hollywood starlet—and he needed out of the engagement. Resigned to pulling his beta brother out of yet another scrape, Caleb sent him off to the Fae court with a chest filled with treasures and bribes. He hadn’t expected Giles to dismiss his bodyguard and continue on alone. Later, Giles had told him he thought the military presence sent the wrong message to the Fae.
That his younger, beta brother should venture into the Fae court alone didn’t sit well with Caleb. For a while, he’d suspected Giles had embroiled the Lykae and Fae in another of his crack-brained schemes. Caleb had even put the border towns’ militia on alert, but the Fae never renewed their claim on the disputed territories.
Giles returned alone, but Caleb had expected a Fae delegation to arrive to renegotiate the seven-year-old treaties. When they didn’t, Caleb admitted his brother had managed the whole situation single-handedly, but Giles turned down the ambassadorial role his negotiating skills deserved.
He said he wanted to concentrate on the love of his life—the half-human, half-Lykae Daphne. Then the fairy princess turned up to embarrass Giles at his wedding and expected the Lykae nation to pour more gold into her greedy little hands.
As King Caleb mingled with the wedding guests, his thoughts lingered on his beautiful captive all tied up in his otherworld hunting lodge. His Fae princess was a slender, delicate beauty with a body that could turn a saint to a sinner. She certainly tempted him. His natural wolf wanted to cherish and protect—but her wrists had bled because of him. His Lykae instinct almost took him to his knees in protest, and the need he’d built in her rebounded though him. She oozed sex and sensuality, and she was damn well going to be his alone. No sharing. Ever.
He’d felt Sylvie’s wild desires and scented her arousal. Her eager response set his inner wolf howling to claim her. His human form needed her so badly he’d almost fucked her there and then.
The packs delighted in his leadership, and although they’d christened him “Caleb the Cold,” he burned for his brother’s cast-off lover. Gods, she was worth her weight in diamonds and rubies, but he needed to calm his out-of-control cock and clear his brain. The packs relied on his intelligence as much as his strength, and his duty was to keep peace in the Lykae clans, but his needs were wrapped up in a sensual fairy who drove him insane.
When it came to justice or battles, he’d always shoved his emotions aside, but with women he was all about charm, consideration, and sex. His steady stream of bedmates gave him temporary satisfaction but left him empty inside. Now his dick ached to possess his sexy little captive, but before he buried himself balls-deep inside her, he needed her to forgot about Giles and cleave only to him.
A gaggle of Lykae ladies, all perky bosoms and pearls, surrounded him as he watched Giles waltz his new bride around the dance floor.
“We’ve come to beg dances with our king.” One giggled and grabbed his arm.
A second vied for his attention. “And I brought you a glass of champagne.”
A third went on tiptoe and boldly rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, coating his jacket with her natural pheromones, but he growled and moved away. Just last night, he’d have laughed and flirted, then chosen one to grace his bed. Tonight, the only scent he wanted on him belonged to the fairy he’d trapped in his otherworld hunting lodge.
“Not in the mood, ladies,” he snapped.
“Not even if we come as a threesome?” the giggler asked.
Caleb glowered and walked off without a word. Damn it, his slutty fairy made him want commitment, but she had to submit to him first. Even his primal beast form roared for him to claim her, but she’d be terrified if she ever saw the creature he caged within.
The music died away, and Giles steered his new bride through a crowd of well-wishers to his brother’s side.
“Beautiful gown, Daphne.” Caleb nodded. He wished he’d worn looser trousers since his cock stood like a sword between his legs. Maybe if he kept moving, no one would notice.
“Thank you, sire.” She smiled. “And if I could be so bold as to beg a dance?”
Dance? When his boner ached like someone had hit him with a rock? But a king had duties to perform, so he gritted his teeth and danced with his brother’s bride. Elves’ blood, he hoped no one spotted his erection and thought he had a hard-on for his new sister-in-law.
He’d no idea what they talked about since his thoughts stayed with a near-naked fairy princess who trembled and moaned at his touch. He loved how, when her head thrashed to and fro, tendrils of choppy, bobbed hair splayed over her cheeks. When he thought of the way her eyelids drooped with heady passion, his cock throbbed beneath his tuxedo trousers.
Before the night was over, he’d turn the tables on his wanton fairy. Once she seethed with desperate need, she’d give in and accept him as her lord and master. Then, after she’d knelt at his feet and sucked his cock, he’d finally let her come.
He’d intended to torment her, fuck her, and send her on her way, but when her intoxicating, meadowsweet perfume had wrapped him up in tendrils of desire, he knew he could never let her go. Many former kings kept concubines, and once she accepted that she belonged to him, he’d do the same.
He made small talk with the guests, then maneuvered his way through the throng surrounding his brother and the bride.
“Don’t wear yourself out with all that dancing.” He slapped Giles on the back. “I think Daphne has plans for tonight.”
The bride blushed, but Giles leered. “So have I, and not just for tonight.”
Once the sit-down lunch and the photographer had finished, everyone enjoyed a few formal dances. In keeping with Lykae tradition, the wedding had started at lunchtime and the celebrations would go on into the small hours. The later it got, the wilder the party would become.
A few risqué comments later, Caleb pleaded state bus
iness and retired to his room. He fisted his cock, his needs as urgent as those he’d stoked in Sylvie, and when he pictured her with her eyes closed and her head thrashing, sperm exploded from his penis. Then he was back at the wedding, collecting a plate of canapés and fresh fruit to tempt his prisoner into sweet submission before he claimed her as his own.
The strongest alpha wolf and hereditary king of the packs, he always kept his emotions on a short leash. Now he was on fire for a woman who used her body to make her suitors do her bidding. Greedy fairy, extracting extravagant gifts in exchange for sex, but once she surrendered to him, he’d shower her in jewels and gold.
His natural wolf growled its approval, wanting her content, happy, and naked. Like an asteroid burning up in the sun’s gravitational pull, he hurried back to the otherworld. The evening air felt chilly even through his tux. Goose bumps covered Sylvie’s arms, and her lips were almost blue. Elves’ blood, he’d been so busy feasting with his brother that he’d left her to freeze. What sort of protector was he, to treat her like that? Guilt rolled around his chest like a lead weight, crushing any joy from his day. His natural wolf—his furry, four-legged form—wanted to drop its ears and howl for her forgiveness. His primal wolf demanded blood and pain—but not hers. Never hers.
He’d failed a woman in his care, and no matter what her morals, she deserved better than a careless Lykae like him. Only he’d kill any other male that touched her.
Mine. Forever and to keep.
She glared when he draped a sheet around her like a sarong, and quickly built a fire. Neither of them spoke, but he could smell her arousal—meadowsweet overlaid with musk—and he wanted to stroke her slender curves until she purred. He rubbed his hands over her body, and as the sheet dropped to the floor his warming massage became a sexual demand that blazed through his balls.
Tonight he’d play with her, punish her, and bend her to his will. If that didn’t work, he’d tempt her delicious body into sensual surrender—bend her over the bed, more like—but he’d make her beg before he let her come. His sensitive Lykae nose smelled her fear, excitement, and frustration, and his natural wolf howled to fuck her into submission. His primal wolf growled and clawed at his chest. Desperate to claim her, it wanted out of its cage, but his human side knew he needed to master her first.
He loved the way she throbbed and moaned for his touch. He could torment her like this all night. He reclaimed his jacket and ran one finger slowly down her spine.
“Get off me.” She shuddered with delight. “And let me go. Please.”
“All in good time, sweetness”—he waved his plate of food before her face—“but everything comes with a price.”
“My brother will pay,” she answered quickly. “Just let me go.”
“Food first.” He offered her a ripe strawberry in the palm of his hand. “Besides, this is about our mutual pleasure. I don’t want you hungry or cold.”
“I’ll eat when I get home.” Despite her defiance, her eyes never left the sweet red temptation. Damn, it was another thing he offered that she couldn’t resist.
Caleb ran the strawberry over her lips, and her hunger won out over her bravado. Just as she was about to sink her teeth into the sweet fruit, he pulled it away and took a bite. Her glare condemned him more than any words, but he just laughed and offered her another. When she ate from his hand, the delicate touch of her lips on his palm made him crave her mouth on his cock. He’d never thought feeding a woman could be such a sensual treat.
His inner wolf growled when she turned her head away, but he stood back and studied her boyish hips and firm, round breasts. “Now you’ve eaten my strawberry, I should feast on yours.”
He watched her eyes widen in mock innocence; then she shook her head and tried to back away—not that she could when the rope held her wrists firmly in place. Caleb dropped to his knees before her, ran his hands up her inner thighs, and nudged them apart. She tried to keep them closed, but he shook his head and pushed them back open before he buried his tongue in her cunt. His natural wolf settled immediately, concentrating on pleasing its mate, but its hackles rose when she played innocent and tried to step out of reach.
He punished her with a resounding slap on her ass, but his natural wolf growled and tried to break free. Even his primal wolf form wanted to protect her—from himself. She squealed in surprise and excitement, but her panties were already damp with desire—for him. He laved her sweet-tasting pussy until she thrashed and writhed in her bonds, then shoved her panties aside with his tongue and sucked on her clit.
He lifted his head and growled, “Mine.”
Her eyes glazed, and her body trembled, but he backed off before she could come. She shivered at his every touch or lick, and her nipples had pearled into sweet strawberries just like the one he’d fed her—and Gods, he needed a taste. He loved how her hips undulated against him and her breath caught in her throat.
“Please,” she begged, “I can’t take any more. Just let me come.”
She looked wicked, wanton, and desperate, so beautiful his resolve melted like ice cream on a sunny day. Surely his Fae princess would surrender soon. He was a warrior who understood the battle of the sexes—and he was an alpha wolf who never lost a fight.
Chapter Three
Sylvie shuddered and refused to look at her tormentor, but her body still ached for satisfaction. He confused her with kind deeds, filled her with hungry desires, then demanded the sort of submission no sane woman would give. Modern and freethinking, she made her own decisions—even if they were sometimes bad—and she definitely wasn’t some chattel to let him lay down the law. Only, this powerful Lykae touched her emotions in ways that made her feel desired and special. When his huge hands stroked and caressed her, he brought her to the edge of insanity, and deep down she never wanted this night to end.
“Please,” she moaned, “please.”
“What do you want? Tell me, sweetness, and if you say the right words, I’ll let you come.”
Almost, she submitted. Her body urged her toward total sensual surrender, but when she gave her heart, it would be to someone who treated it right. Then his fangs nipped at her ear. This masterful Lykae took her breath away, and if he only softened or wooed her with sweet, inviting words, they could share something beautiful and special. She needed him inside her, but he played a power game to gain ground.
“Get off me.” She crossed her ankles and swung in her bonds, but he dodged her halfhearted attempt to kick him.
“Come on, sweetness, swear to obey me in all things. You know you want to, and in return I’ll make you my chief concubine.”
Again she almost submitted, but she’d stay strong if it killed her—and the way he made her feel, it just might. Only how dare he assume her surrender was inevitable? Lykae women might be pushovers for his James Bond style of masculinity, but she wanted love and affection as well as dominance and delight.
Her pussy throbbed for him, but still she defied him. “I’m a Fae princess, and if my brother hasn’t already declared war over the way Giles disrespected our betrothal, he will over this. Does King Caleb know his security guards hold the Fae crown in such contempt?”
Mutual attraction sparked between them, but she dug deep to resist this dominant Lykae whose touch turned her soft and gooey inside. She groaned and turned her head, disdaining him with her actions when her body demanded she fuck him until dawn. The ache he’d built inside her left her hungry and eager, but her half brother would tear the limbs from his body if her imperious Lykae forced her to make any vows.
While her cunt cried out to submit, her brain screamed, no! She’d never lusted after a male before. Damn it, he fogged her brain with pleasure, then presented her with tough choices. Either she surrendered her principles and pride to get what she wanted or stayed strong and sane—only she needed to be fucked. Right here. Right now.
Seven years ago, Giles had knocked her teenage confidence when he’d refused to seal their alliance with a kiss. Today an
other Lykae loved her to the brink of sensual bliss, but he left her needy and burning to come. He dominated her, cared for her, and caressed all the sensitive places she stroked each night when she lay alone in her bed. God, she was so close to surrender, but if she caved in to her desires, she’d never want to let him go. What if he took what he wanted, then moved on like Giles?
Mr. Arrogance played her body like a pianist, stroking and caressing her until desire overrode common sense. She needed him inside her, pumping his cock deeper and deeper until she screamed his name. He wanted to control her like he would a dog, but maybe that was how Lykaes treated their females. Her half-human nature rebelled; then a softer, more yielding part of her writhed and panted, Yes, please.
“Say it, sweetness, and I’ll make you come like never before.”
He assumed she possessed all the experience she lacked, but damn it, she’d never even dated in the human world—scared to fall for a mortal she’d outlive. Instead she’d immersed herself in medieval literature. She’d graduated from the University of East London with a PhD in acting, and lips that had never been kissed—unless you counted the coldhearted stage kisses that had left her disinterested and bored. Now she lusted over an arrogant Lykae with an athlete’s honed body and gray eyes that weighed her soul—and he clearly found it wanting.
Everything about him fired her up; then he crushed her with his contempt. Anger cleared her brain, and she realized that even if it was too late to stop the wedding, she could attend the reception and befriend the bride. Maybe a show of support would stop the incipient war.
“I need to speak with Prince Giles,” she begged, her voice a needy whimper.
He landed a light slap on her behind. “Now, sweetness, I don’t want to hear another man’s name on your lips. Still, give me your oath and accept me as your overlord, and I may permit it. Once they’re back from their honeymoon.”
“Flaming arrogant wolf.” She kicked out in fury. “Just cut me loose and go chew on a bone or something.”
To Wed a Werewolf Page 2