Natasha stopped struggling, her protests ending on a silent groan. Shit. She knew he'd been to see Nafarius, this was probably the part where Roland asked her to please leave, don't let the door hit you on the tail. Well, she couldn't really blame them.
But even the seriousness of the situation couldn't quench Natasha's curiosity as she followed Roland into the pack's private quarters. She'd heard descriptions but the real thing was nothing short of amazing.
The corridor leading from the common room was long and narrow, winding its way back into the mountain. Small, battery powered lanterns were used to help light the way as the corridor branched off in several different directions.
Some of the branches immediately opened up onto alcoves of various size, each one filled with the personal belongings of the families living there. A few of the corridors fed back far enough that Natasha couldn't see beyond the one she was on, affording the inhabitants a greater degree of privacy.
The place was huge, the entrance and common area giving the impression that the den was smaller than it really was.
Natasha perked up as Roland broke off from the main corridor, leading them down a narrow passage. His burrow. His scent was stronger here, the subtle essence seeping into the rock until it became permanently marked.
Roland dropped Natasha's hand, stepping into the room and turning up one of the lanterns. Silently, he watched Natasha, saw her eyes touching on the surface of his bed and belongings. He wondered what she saw, what the room told her about him.
Natasha blinked as warm light slowly illuminated the room. Oh, wow. She was surprised by the warmth of the room. The space was comfortable, almost welcoming, with a deep rug, rich blankets and earthy tones. Across from the entrance, a thick mattress sat on the floor covered with a rumpled duvet and large pillows. Books and papers were scattered across a small table, while his clothes were folded neatly and stored in a cubby style set of shelves. Too easily, she could picture Roland curled up on the bed, his bare feet crossed at the ankle.
"You wanted to talk?" Natasha asked when the silence continued to stretch.
Roland took a deep breath. Scrubbing at his face with his hands, he felt the rough skin of his scar against his palm. Why did he think this was a good idea?
"I spoke with Nafarius," he finally said. It seemed as good as any place to start.
"You told him I'm no longer pack?" Natasha hated to think how that conversation had gone.
"He's my alpha," Roland said. It never occurred to him not to tell Nafarius. "He has a right to know."
"I understand," Natasha said, quietly bracing herself. "When does he want me to leave?"
Roland blinked. "He's not turning you out."
"Oh," Natasha said. "Then what - ?"
"He mentioned waiting and returning to your pack after your father..."
Natasha was already shaking her head. "I can't go back." At least not yet, maybe never.
"He offered to send word to the other packs, see if anyone is looking for an alpha female." Roland watched her face as inside his wolf growled. She's not ours, he reminded the animal. The look he got was nothing short of accusatory, his wolf staring at Roland before turning and disappearing into the background.
Natasha blinked in surprise. "I never thought..." She'd never thought about the possibility of joining another pack. She had assumed leaving meant going it alone.
"There's no guarantee," Roland warned. He'd made the offer, nothing said he had to paint a pretty picture. "Chances are good you'll have to fight for a place..."
"But I would be pack," Natasha whispered, tears burning behind her eyes. The place where her pack had always been felt icy cold and dead, an emptiness where once there was life. She couldn't understand how humans could go through life so alone, never feeling the reassuring presence of pack.
"There's another option," Roland said. "You wouldn't be pack but..."
Natasha looked up at his hesitation.
"I could claim you," Roland offered, dropping that bomb into the center of the room and waiting. He half expected her to reject the idea outright. It was an old custom that would tie her to him, however temporarily.
"You - " Natasha blinked, her mouth opening and closing silently.
"You wouldn't be pack," Roland continued, hurrying to fill her stunned silence. "But you would be under my protection."
"I know what a claiming is," Natasha said, still stunned. He wanted to claim her? No. He said he could, not that he wanted to.
Natasha's eyes snapped back to Roland. "Why?"
"Why?" Roland echoed, drawing a blank. She wanted to know why?
"Why would you offer to claim me?" Natasha asked.
"I..." Roland found himself stumbling over his answer. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Natasha snorted. "I'd hate to think what you consider a bad idea."
Roland stiffened. "You can't stay here, not as a lone wolf and Nafarius isn't willing to risk a confrontation between you and Sam by making you pack."
"I never thought he would," Natasha said, quietly. But maybe she had hoped...everyone was happy here. Life was about living, loving and sharing. Once upon a time, her pack had been like that. Lately, her life had become about survival.
"You need protection," Roland said. He wanted her to see what he had to offer, even if it wasn't much. "You can't stay here without it."
Natasha wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing warmth into them at the stark reality of her situation. She was here on Nafarius' charity and eventually it would run out.
"You have nowhere else to go," Roland said softly.
Natasha dropped her arms, her fists clenching at her sides. Roland was watching her, his eyes soft. "I don't want or need your pity."
Roland watched as Natasha spun on her heels and walked out. It took him a moment to realize his misstep and go after her. "Natasha! Wait!"
Catching up to her, he grabbed her wrist.
"Don't touch me," Natasha growled, spinning around and twisting her wrist from his grasp.
"I'm sorry," Roland said, holding up his hands and backing up a step.
"I'm sorry," he said again when her eyes flashed from green to gold, not sure if he was apologizing for grabbing her or for his comment. Probably both. "Come back so we can finish talking, please."
"There's nothing left to talk about," Natasha said. "Tell Nafarius I would appreciate it if he would check with the other packs. I'll head into Roslyn in the morning, and get a hotel room."
"You can't go," Roland said when she once again turned to leave.
"My pack..." Natasha stumbled over her words. Not my pack anymore. "My father has resources," she amended. "I'll be fine." Her father had accounts set up in town. Nothing extensive and she wasn't sure if she would be able to access them on her own but she was willing to try.
"I already made the claim," Roland announced. God, had he ever fumbled this bad with a female?
Natasha pulled up short. Turning slowly, she found Roland watching her warily. "You what?"
"I made the claim," he repeated, resisting the urge to duck his head. "I already talked with Nafarius and Sam."
"How very noble of you," Natasha said. She could see it, the three of them sitting around talking about her and Roland offering to make the ultimate sacrifice.
"There wasn't anything noble about it," Roland snarled. Damn, but the female was stubborn.
"Whose idea was it?" she asked. "If Nafarius ordered - "
"It was my idea," Roland snapped. "Nafarius knows better than to order me to do anything relating to a female."
Natasha blinked but let that statement slide for another day. "Why would you claim me?"
Roland looked at her and realized that she wouldn't let this one go. If he wanted her to stay, he was going to have to tell her why.
"I did it because I wanted to," Roland said. "Because I want you," he added quietly, his voice warming considerably.
Natasha dropped her arms. "You don't need a claiming for that," she said, s
oftly. Nothing in her situation had changed her desire for the male. If anything, the uncertainty of her future leaving her more inclined to seize the opportunity. She had nothing left to lose.
"It was the only way I could think of for you to stay." Roland said.
Natasha nodded in understanding. Sleeping together wasn't enough, she would need his protection if she wanted to stay.
Roland could see thoughts floating across Natasha's face, each one moving too fast for him to guess at. She appeared to be considering his offer, which gave him hope.
"Stay," he urged, "at least until Nafarius has time to check with the other packs, then you can decide what you want to do."
Natasha understood Roland's offer was a temporary fix, a chance for them to enjoy each other while she waited to decide what to do.
"Stay with me," Roland said, once again offering her his hand.
Heart pounding, Natasha slipped her fingers into Roland's, anticipation tightening in her belly as he led her back into his burrow.
****
Roland didn't let himself think about what was to come, his desire temporarily diminished with dread. Turning, he put some distance between them.
"There's something you should know," he said, carefully watching her face. He'd carried his scars for years, a physical reminder never to let anyone get too close. "This isn't all there is," he said, gesturing to the ruined side of his face. "There's more, a lot more."
"I don't care," Natasha said, her honesty heartfelt. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I want you, just the way you are?"
Roland's response was to pull his t-shirt over his head. Tossing it aside, he stood bare from the waist up, revealing a broad chest bisected by a furrow so deep it made the scar on his face seem but a scratch.
"And it doesn't end there," Roland said, his voice barely audible.
Natasha kept her face carefully blank, her eyes following the river of scars from left shoulder to right hip. His neck was surprisingly unmarred, giving the impression that the damage was restricted to his face.
His face...his face was closed off, his body already turning from her as if he expected her rejection. Natasha wondered how many females had rejected him, or worse, turned him into some sort of freak show to be experienced, a thrill ride to tell their friends about.
"What..." Roland had to clear his throat. "What are you thinking?"
"I was wondering..." Natasha moved closer, resting one hand on his chest as she reached for him, not surprised when he caught her wrist. "I was wondering what you would look like with your hair down."
Roland grunted. "It's not long enough to hide this."
Natasha pulled a face. "That's not what I was going for," she said, tugging gently at her hand until he willingly released her.
Reaching behind his neck, Natasha pulled the tie from his hair, sighing in appreciation as a cascade of black silk rushed forward to frame Roland's face. All one length, his hair hung in a curtain of thick curls, brushing the sharp line of his jaw.
"So beautiful," she whispered, unable to stop herself from running her fingers along the ends.
Roland jerked back. Grabbing her wrist, he spun her around, pulling her back against his bare chest. "It's not nice to lie," he growled in her ear.
Natasha struggled. "I'm not - "
"I know what I look like." Roland captured her other wrist, wrapping their arms around her, stilling her struggles.
"Not everyone sees your scars first when they look at you," Natasha said. Her heart was beating hard, Roland large and demanding behind her. She could feel the heat of him pressed up against her, his chest spanning the width of her shoulders.
Pressing the unmarred side of his face to her neck, Roland nipped at the skin behind her ear, his body tightening when she tipped her head to the side, giving him the tender skin at her throat.
Natasha shivered at the feel of Roland's teeth, her nipples hardening when he licked at the heartbeat in her throat. She liked him like this, slightly angry and demanding. Arching her back, she pressed herself against him, feeling the pulsing of his cock between the cleft of her ass.
Roland growled, his cock surging in the tight confines of his jeans. She felt right in his arms, her body curving into his embrace. But he wanted to get closer, wanted to see and touch all of her. Tightening his grip, he bent his legs, easing her down as he knelt on the rug.
Natasha found herself sitting on Roland's lap, her body open and exposed as she reclined against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She could feel him looking at her.
Roland gazed hungrily down the length of Natasha's body, his eyes brushing over taut nipples to the slight curve of her belly. Shifting her slightly, he settled her more securely on his lap and tried to decide where to start.
Natasha couldn't take her eyes off Roland's hands as they slowly lifted. He still held her wrists, spreading her arms wide and pressing her hands to the floor.
"Don't move," he growled against her ear.
The urge to ignore the quietly-issued order tingled in Natasha's fingertips, causing them to curl into her palms.
Roland could feel Natasha's tension rising, her body stiffening slightly as he held her hands immobile. Brushing his lips along her earlobe, he bit down sharply, at the same time pressing her fists more firmly against the ground. "Stay."
Natasha whimpered as the small bite of pain shot down to her core, but pressed her palms flat to the rug beneath them.
Satisfied with her response, Roland released her wrists. Sliding his hands down the outside of her thighs, he hooked his fingers under the hem of her dress, drawing it up to her hips slowly, revealing the creamy skin of her thighs and the bright curls covering her core.
Natasha felt the cool air brush across her heated flesh and sighed.
"You're wet for me," Roland growled as the intoxicating scent of her desire blossomed on the air. Already, her coppery curls were damp with desire, moisture glistening in the low light.
Needing to touch her, Roland slowly slipped his fingers into her curls, swirling the tips and sliding them over slick skin.
Natasha groaned, her body bucking against Roland's hand.
"I was wrong," Roland said, delving deeper, his fingers searching out and finding her clitoris. The small bud was swollen, the tip peaking out from its hood to throb against his fingers. "You're soaking."
Natasha quivered at the truth of his words, the sensation rippling down the backs of her legs where she still sat pressed against Roland's thighs. Giving in to the driving need to touch him, she reached up behind her.
Roland caught Natasha by the wrist, drawing her hand back down and pressing it firmly between her legs. "I want to watch," he whispered.
Natasha groaned, her body twisting towards him as she replaced Roland's hand with her own, her fingers circling her clitoris in a familiar rhythm that never failed to finish her off.
Roland watched Natasha's hand moving between her legs, her thighs falling open as she worked herself towards climax. He had no intention of letting her finish, at least not yet. He was enjoying the feel of her in his arms too much, her body moving restlessly against his.
Never taking his eyes from her, Roland grabbed Natasha's dress and pulled it over her head.
"Roland," Natasha moaned as he resettled her on top of his thighs, the stiff denim of his jeans a tantalizing abrasion against the curve of her ass. He remained steady behind her, his body stiff with control. She would have thought him unaffected except for the throbbing pulse his cock maintained where it lay pressed between them.
Roland wasn't nearly as controlled as he led Natasha to believe, his cock so hard he hurt, each throb pushing him closer to the edge. Inside, his wolf was pacing furiously, for once unwilling to remain in the background when a female was near.
Natasha was stretched out gloriously naked, Roland feasting his eyes on yards of creamy skin, full breasts and pale, pink nipples that hardened under his heated gaze. He decided right then that he was going to mak
e it his mission in life to lick every inch of her. Twice.
Experimentally, he ran his hands down between her breasts, sweeping across smooth skin, fascinated by the contrast between her pale flesh and the caramel color of his skin.
"Roland, please," Natasha pleaded, arching her back and offering him her breasts.
"What is it, love?" Roland asked, his voice low and gravelly.
"Touch me, please." Natasha still worked her fingers between her thighs, desperately seeking the climax that hovered just out of reach.
"Like this?" Roland teased, running his hands over the flat of her stomach, watching her muscles tighten and quiver.
Natasha gave a grunt of frustration, reaching for his hand and drawing it to her breast. Roland chuckled and obediently wrapped his fingers around her breast, squeezing the plump flesh before plucking at her nipple.
When Natasha moaned it was low and long, the sound coming from her core as her nipples hardened and her clit pulsed. "More," she demanded, her fingers rubbing harder at her clit, working the tender nub as her hips rocked against her hand.
Roland growled as she worked herself with wild abandon. She didn't hold anything back, giving herself over as she sought her release. Wrapping both hands around her breasts, he plucked at her nipples, twisting and pinching them as she withered against him.
"Yes!" Natasha cried as her body tightened and arched, muscles clenching and contracting in a rippling release.
Roland felt Natasha shudder against him, the scent from her climax snapping his control. Reaching between them, he ripped open his jeans, groaning as his cock sprung free and brushed up against the small of her back.
Natasha felt the steel length of Roland's shaft and instinctively pushed back against him, trapping him between them. Roland grabbed her hips, his fingers leaving bruises as he held her tight and thrust his hips, his cock sliding along skin slick with sweat. He thrust once, twice before lifting her from his lap, his cock slipping between her thighs and finding her entrance.
Natasha moaned as the wide head of Roland's cock pressed between her swollen folds with short, shallow thrusts. He was teasing them both, flexing his hips as he edged in and out of her body.
Untamed (Wolf Lake) Page 8