Lust Potion For the Alpha

by Alice Coldbreath

  “It’s …Geoffrey’s mother isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

  She bobbed a curtsey.

  “Yes my lord. Matilda your lordship.”

  “Matilda.”

  “Her ladyship has made me housekeeper here,” she said proudly. “I’m to have my own quarters and everything.”

  “I’m sure you deserve it,” he answered gravely.

  “Thank you my lord.”

  He hesitated.

  “Is Geoffrey in the sitting room with you?” he asked nodding to the room she had emerged from.

  She nodded.

  “Yes my lord.”

  “That’s a good lad you’ve got there,” he said. “It must have been very difficult for you.”

  Her mouth twisted.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” she said lifting her chin bravely. “Now we can be together. And he understands. He forgives me.”

  “It isn’t you that needs forgiveness Matilda,” he said solemnly. “I hope you know that.”

  She trembled a moment before dropping him another curtsey.

  “Thank you my lord,” she whispered.

  Baris and Ran came through the door cursing the rain and struggling out of their wet things.

  “You can get your own suppers,” Jorah told them loudly. “Matilda is otherwise occupied taking tea with Geoffrey. Her son.”

  He didn’t wait for their reactions but started up the stairs to his own bedchamber.

  “Her ladyship retired early with a headache my Lord,” Matilda called up the stairs after him.

  I bet she did, he thought grimly and was half expecting to find the door bolted against him when he reached their temporary room. Instead he found his wife bundled under the blankets so far over to her side that she was practically balanced on the edge of the mattress. She had drawn the sheets right up over her head. She was so rigidly still he knew she was wide awake. He could feel her shallow jerky breathing. Gods, had she been crying? He crossed the room cautiously to the night stand and gave himself a wash and dried his wet hair, glancing over at her every so often and clearing his throat. No reaction. He stripped down and made his way to the bed, yanking back the sheet and climbing in beside her. If anything she pulled even further away from him, he shot out his arm and grabbed her concerned she might tumble down onto the floor at any minute. She gave a muffled protest at that,

  “I’ve got a headache,” she flung back over her shoulder. “Let me alone!”

  “I don’t think so,” he rumbled back at her, dragging her against him. She was deliciously warm even though she was struggling and resisting and making noises like an annoyed kitten.

  “You’re cold!” she complained crossly.

  “Mmm, I’m chilled to the bone,” he shivered. “Why don’t you warm me up?”

  “Because I don’t want to!” she spat back. “You’re a pig!”

  He gave a surprised burst of laughter feeling overwhelming relief. He’d been scared she’d been sobbing all afternoon feeling lonely and miserable in a strange land thanks to his churlishness. Instead she’d been mad. Gods, she was full of surprises. He felt a burst of gratitude that he’d hit on her in the marriage stakes. She was a revelation.

  “But you like pigs Issy,” he reminded her huskily. “I remember you particularly sat on the edge of a pig sty discussing your engagement with one.”

  She glared back at him over her shoulder.

  “What?” she gasped sounding outraged. “I most certainly did not-“

  “Yes you did,” he argued firmly. “I remember it distinctly. The sun was shining off your hair and I thought I would like to eat that female and I wasn’t thinking about the pig.”

  She squinted at him suspiciously.

  “It was raining,” she said witheringly. “It was drizzling on my hair getting it damp. And you weren’t there!”

  “Oh yes I was,” he pointed out smugly. “I was in the shed, remember?”

  She stilled at that for a moment as she reconciled her memory of the beast she’d called Prince in the shed with her husband.

  “Oh,” she said lamely before rallying. “So you were eavesdropping on me and Bess.”

  He ran his hands down her sides.

  “Yes,” he admitted, pressing a kiss under her ear. She squirmed.

  “What a very ungentlemanlike thing to do!”

  “But you were saying such very interesting things,” he teased. “Like how amazingly handsome I was and how madly you had fallen in love with me…”

  “I most certainly was not!” she huffed.

  “Yes, you were,” he answered smartly, rolling her onto her back so he could look into her eyes. Problem was when he did that, he could see the hurt lurking in their depths. He turned serious rapidly. “Don’t be angry with me anymore Iss. I was an ass and I’m sorry.”

  She expelled a puff of air, lowering her eyes. He tipped up her chin.

  “I took all the boys home, every one.” He added softly. “You were right. Their families were overjoyed to have them back.” He swallowed. “Our way was wrong. We won’t do it anymore.”

  Her gaze flickered to his briefly.

  “You have my word,” he added. He felt a pain in the region of his chest when a big fat tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, nodding at him.

  “Very well,” she sniffed and then rolled back on her side away from him. He inched closer again until her back was flush against him and rubbed her hip.

  “Do you forgive me?” he added in a low voice.

  She nodded again, tucking the blanket up to her neck. He dropped his face to her neck cuddling up to her. It was strangely pleasant. He wrapped his arms around her soft cushiony body. He’d been hard since he’d climbed in the bed, but she was pretending not to notice it bumping against her plump buttocks, demanding attention.

  “Geoffrey’s with his mother too,” he added conversationally. “Did you know he was a foundling?”

  Her head turned sharply at that.

  “He – he did mention not having any parents,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “Yes, it turns out his mother is Matilda the new housekeeper,” he carried on hearing her soft gasp.

  She rolled onto her back to stare up at him.

  “No! Really?” Her eyes got a distracted look. “So that’s it. That’s why she was cast out by her family… because she had Geoffrey.”

  He nodded.

  “Then she applied for a position here at the Keep to be near him by all accounts.”

  “Poor Matilda!” she breathed.

  Unable to help himself he slid a palm over her soft round belly, stroking her in what he hoped she would think was a comforting manner.

  “How did Geoffrey take it?” she asked swivelling her gaze to him anxiously.

  He pursed his lips.

  “Turns out he always knew. He could tell by her scent that she was his mother.”

  She went still at that before sighing.

  “I suppose that’s quite comforting really.”

  He crooked an eyebrow at her.

  “I mean, if we have a child… Even though I won’t be a pack member. It’ll still know that we belong together…” she looked up at Jorah and he lowered his face to hers, touching their foreheads.

  “All our children will know that they belong to you,” he promised her, sliding his hand down to firmly cup her mound.

  “That’s good,” she breathed.

  “I can make it better,” he promised wilfully misunderstanding her. “Let me make it up to you Issy.”

  She frowned.

  “This afternoon,” he expanded meaningfully. “When I was selfish.”

  Her breathing hitched.

  “I don’t-“

  “Please Iss,” he begged huskily. “I need to. Let me. My wolf won’t give me any peace until you’ve come all over me.”

  She blushed.

  “Well, when you put it that way,” she murmured.

  And then he proceeded to devour her with h
is mouth over and over again, her breasts, her cunt, telling her in filthy detail how delicious she tasted, how he couldn’t get enough of her scent, her taste, how she was his and only his. He used his clever fingers, even the slope of his nose to stimulate her clitoris until she was nothing but a melted puddle of satiated lust, her voice hoarse from crying out his name. His wolf howled triumphantly as she tipped once more over the edge into bliss beneath him, bucking like a wild thing.

  “Please I can’t take anymore,” she begged as soon as she surfaced from the tidal wave of pleasure that had submerged her. “Please, just come inside me now.”

  He hesitated, torn at her invitation. He hadn’t meant to penetrate her with his cock at all, this was about penance, not slaking his own lust. He shook his head even though he was sure his balls had turned blue by now.

  “This is about you not me,” he reminded her.

  She stared.

  “What? But -?”

  “I came this afternoon remember?” he pointed out grimly. “And I didn’t extend you the same courtesy.”

  Her jaw snapped shut.

  “Jorah…”

  “One more, you can manage one more orgasm,” he told her disappearing between her thighs again.

  “No,” she protested weakly, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back up so it rested on her belly. “Please have mercy. I just… I like it best when you’re deep inside me,” she told him dreamily. “You feel so good.” She hesitated. “Your cock, please I want it,” she whispered turning the tables on him. Her gaze flickered as she sought for inspiration. “You’re so long and thick… and hard.”

  He groaned. Now she decided to talk dirty to him? Of all times!

  “Gods, Issy… My self-control is hanging on by a thread…”

  “So let it go,” she told him simply.

  He threw back his head and closed his eyes before inspiration struck. He clambered up and collapsed on his back beside her.

  “Okay, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” he told her his voice raspy with need. “Come here.”

  She rose up onto her knees approaching him gingerly.

  “What are you…?” she frowned watching him place his hands behind his head.

  “Come and sit on me,” he said glancing down at his neglected cock which was angry and swollen and standing straight up from his muscular belly.

  “Sit on you?” She fell back on her haunches, biting her lip. “How…?”

  He tightened his abdominals and sat up in a fluid motion, seizing her by her upper arms and hauling her onto him until she sat firmly astride. His hands stroked over her smooth round buttocks.

  “I won’t last long,” he warned thickly. “I’m too damn close. You’re so .. sexy Issy. My Issy,” he told her his almost shaking with desire. “This way you can take me nice and deep. You’ll be in control.”

  “Your eyes… are so turquoise,” she told him hesitantly touching his face. “Did you know they change colour? When you’re … well, in bed.”

  Slowly, he shook his head, looking up at her.

  “Issy?” he asked huskily.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to ride my dick. It’s about to explode.”

  “Oh…” she cast a look down and wrapped her fingers firmly around it making it jump in her grasp.

  “Put him inside you.” He groaned as her hands took his shaft and angled it towards her pussy. She inched forward until she was poised directly over him.

  “Take me deep,” he growled.

  She rose up, then sank down on him with a whimper. He moaned loudly.

  “So wet,” he groaned thrusting up into her heat. “Gods, you feel good Issy. Take what you want,” he urged her, his hips writing underneath her, bucking her up and down his length easily. “Take me.”

  She picked up his cue, rising and falling in an undulating rhythm that made him bite his lip, cry out, letting loose a series of strangled howls.

  “It’s okay, Jorah,” she breathed. “You can let go. You can come.”

  “Not-until- you -do,” he vowed punctuating each word with a deep groan. “Fuck!” He reached up behind him and seized the headboard.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Keep doing me like that.” He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to take the visual stimulating of her bouncing on his dick in front of him any longer. Fuck he was gonna shoot if she didn’t come soon! Then he felt it, thank fuck, her sheath starting to clench and pulsate around him.

  “Uhhhhh Jorah,” she keened as she came powerfully contracting around his dick until his hands shot down from the headboard and clasped her hips in a vice-like grip forcing her to ride him hard as he thrust and thrust into her tight, squeezing pussy. He roared, bellowed like a bull, shot like a geyser until she had drained him of every drop of his come. Then they both collapsed back onto the mattress, utterly spent. When she stirred minutes later, he pressed his hand flat against her lower back keeping her where she was, unable to bear separating from her yet, wanting to remain intimately joined to her for as long as possible. This was when he felt most at peace, like all was right with his world. What the hells is wrong with me? he wondered faintly. And even worse, why don’t I care anymore?

  Issy was making her third batch of dough when Matilda’s quick step was heard outside the kitchen.

  “Sir Cedric’s here,” she announced. “He’s asking for you my lady. His niece.”

  “Is he now?” she asked archly as she removed her apron. “Dilys, I leave this in your capable hands.” She hesitated before turning back and picking up a plate of cooling biscuits off the side. She winked at Dilys, “We’ll get a taste test while he’s here.”

  When she entered the sitting room Uncle Cedric’s tall thin frame was stooped peering at the flower arrangement over the mantel.

  “Most curious selection of flora and fauna,” he commented turning to face her with a small bow. “Your work?”

  “Actually no, our new maid’s. She’s from the village.”

  He turned with a look of surprise.

  “From the village?” he repeated, adjusting his glasses that sat perched on his rather hooked nose. “You astonish me dear Isolde.”

  “Yes, Moira is human,” admitted Isolde placing the biscuits on the table. “The youngest daughter of the landlord from the tavern. Please take a seat Uncle.”

  She sat herself down as Matilda entered with a pitcher of juice and two goblets.

  “And her family is agreeable? Or has she been .. er compromised by one of ours so to speak…?”

  “No, no,” replied Isolde hastily as Mathilda withdrew. “She’s quite uninvolved with the pack. Her father has four daughters and Moira shows no aptitude for bar work. She’s very quiet and would much rather work behind the scenes so to speak. She’s quite unmoved by the whole werewolf situation.”

  “Well that’s something at any rate. You could certainly do with some more hands around here. Though I can see you’ve already worked wonders with the place,” he said gazing around. “Are those new curtains?”

  Isolde beamed.

  “Indeed they are. And you’re the first man in the family who’s noticed without me pointing them out.”

  He smiled, shaking his head.

  “The Mallon-Garth male does not have much of an eye for detail. I however am a Greyson. We notice such things.”

  She poured the juice and handed him a glass.

  “Well this is very pleasant Uncle.”

  He coughed delicately.

  “And most definitely overdue my dear niece. It has been most remiss of me. You must forgive me,” said Uncle Cedric apologetically. “But I really had no expectation that you would prove so interesting.”

  Issy shot him a narrow-eyed look lowering her drink.

  “Because I’m a human?” she asked with a slight edge to her voice.

  He hesitated.

  “Because Jorah’s always made it perfectly clear to me that he intended to marry some dull little female who would do his every bidding withou
t question.” He peered at her over his spectacles. “I’m happy to see you have disappointed his expectations.”

  Issy beheld him speechlessly.

  “Is that really…?” She swallowed. “Really what he always wanted?” she asked slowly.

  Uncle Cedric inclined his head in acquiescence.

  “Yes my dear. But you mustn’t blame him altogether. I’m afraid it’s a result of his upbringing.” He sighed.

  Issy chewed on her lip, struggling against the impulse to pry.

  “I’m sorry,” she exhaled finally. “But you can’t just let slip a tit-bit like that and then clam up! Jorah’s never mentioned his parents to me.”

  “No he won’t my dear,” he concurred. “It’s something of a closed book as far as Jorah’s concerned. He was the oldest you see, so it hit him the hardest.”

  Issy folded her lips as he helped himself to a biscuit.

  “These are really very good,” he commented maddeningly. “Nutmeg?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wherever did you…?”

  “I sent Geoffrey and Ran on a spice run to Haldorne.” She answered swiftly naming the nearest city.

  “That must have taken them two days!” he exclaimed with shock.

  “Yes, I thought it would be a good bonding trip for them.”

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  “They’re of an age but apparently have never been close,” she explained.

  Cedric regarded her with a fascinated eye.

  “And did it work?” he asked resting his chin on an upturned palm.

  “Seems to have,” Izzy answered breezily wondering how she could bring the conversation back to Jorah’s childhood. She pushed the plate of biscuits towards him. “Have another biscuit.”

  Uncle Cedric chuckled.

  “You’re a very resourceful woman, my dear Isolde.”

  “And that’s a good thing, right?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Well, I think so,” frowned Cedric pursing his lips.

  “… And Jorah?” she asked tentatively, tapping her teeth. “Not so much?”

  “Perhaps… I should tell you about my sister…” suggested Cedric.

  Issy’s eyes flew to his.

  “Your sister?”