WolfeBite (De Wolfe Pack Generations #10)

Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A ll of Ashendon seemed to be in an uproar, just like the servant had said.

After rousing Catherine and Gabriel, Christelle carried the sleeping little boy into Phillipa’s chamber and put him to bed with the queen. Catherine took Christelle’s bed in the small alcove. With Lady Maria on the loose, her whereabouts unknown, Christelle had made the decision to put the children to bed with Phillipa for their own safety.

Phillipa was more than happy to have them.

With the children secure behind a bolted door, Christelle proceeded to clear the keep of any servants, searching every crevice and every chamber, before putting a soldier inside and having him bolt the entry door and protect it with his life. She then went outside to see if she could help in the search, but it seemed to be systematically organized. Torches were lit and men were moving everywhere she looked. A group had even gone into Hull to search for the woman there, but with no results. Christelle was told that Lady Maria had killed the two women who had bought her a meal and stolen the clothing off one of them, which was why she had been able to slip out unnoticed.

All of the knights were wrapped up leading search parties, so Christelle made her way to the wall to watch the activity and help if she could. So far, everything seemed to be under control, so she simply watched and waited.

The night deepened.

At one point, Talan returned leading a search party. After what Catherine had told her and Phillipa, Christelle found herself looking at Talan through new eyes. He had the dark de Wolfe good looks and was certainly a sharp and accomplished knight, but the truth was that he was young as far as knights went. Because he was a de Wolfe, however, he had skill and breeding, so it was easy to overlook his age—but the reality was that he was still quite young.

Catherine, of course, didn’t realize that because she was even younger than he was. To her, he was a man, and men and women married when they loved one another. And he loved her. She could hardly see beyond her own wants, and that was evident. The truth was that Talan was older than Christelle was, but she had the maturity of somebody twice her age. There were times when she even felt twice her age. That was what a difficult life and a demanding father had done to her. But she was a young woman in her prime and now, with Leonidas’ interest, she felt as if his declaration had somehow given her existence more value. More importance.

A future to look forward to.

Oh, she knew exactly how her father was going to take the news that she no longer wished to spy on the queen. The more she thought about it, the more she knew there was going to be trouble. Bernard would not take the news lying down, and she was starting to regret telling him that the queen had been moved to Ashendon Castle. He knew where she was, so even if she told him she no longer wished to spy, he could very well come to Hull looking for her.

That meant she was going to have to throw the man off her scent.

The solution, of course, was to send her father another missive saying that they had been moved elsewhere. She’d pick a castle in Wales or even Scotland, somewhere far away that would send her father on a wild goose chase should he decide to pursue her. But the truth remained that, at some point, she was going to have to tell Leonidas her true purpose in coming to England. She didn’t want to tell him now because their interest in each other was so fresh and new that she didn’t want to damage it. If the truth of her purpose had come out at some point earlier in their association, all she risked was exile. But if it happened now, she risked something worse.

Heartache.

Perhaps when she and Leonidas built more trust between one another and their feelings deepened, the information wouldn’t be so bad. But for now, she wasn’t going to tell him.

She wasn’t going to tell anybody.

As the search for Lady Maria continued into the night, Christelle remained on the wall. She saw clearly when Dayne and his search party returned, and then when Zander and his party returned. Leonidas and Kenneth returned toward midnight, having taken an enormous contingent into the town of Hull to search every inch for the murderous nurse. But it was clear that they’d had no luck and the search was called off for the night.

Christelle went down to the bailey to greet him.

“I heard what happened,” she said as she approached. “From what we knew, Lady Mary was a power-hungry thief, but murder didn’t seem to be in her purview. No luck finding her?”

Leonidas had just dismounted, sending his horse off with a stable servant as Christelle came near. “Nay,” he said, removing his helm and scratching his dark head. “We searched businesses and homes, but no one has seen her. And they know her in town, so they would recognize her on sight. My suspicion is that she managed to buy or barter passage on one of the many ships coming in and out of the mouth of the river. She is probably halfway to London by now.”

Christelle listened intently. “And the entire castle was searched?”

“From top to bottom,” he said. “We did that first. There is no place she could have been hiding that we would not have found, so I am confident she is not here.”

Christelle trusted his word. “I put Catie and Gabriel to bed with Phillipa just to be safe,” she said. “I searched the keep myself and have a soldier stationed inside behind the locked entry door.”

“Good,” Leonidas said. Then he eyed her a moment, with appreciation. “Walk with me. I want to get out of my mail.”

Christelle did. As Zander and Dayne and Talan disbanded the search parties and Kenneth went to the gatehouse, Leonidas and Christelle headed toward the eastern side of the bailey where the troop house was. There were also a series of small, one-room cottages built, hardly big enough for a bed and some gear, but they were intended for the knights. Leonidas, even though he was the Earl of Hull and Ashendon was his castle, chose not to stay in the keep because the queen was in residence, instead residing in the largest cottage next to the troop house, and that was where they were heading.

“It seems that you’ve had two big searches today,” Christelle said to make conversation. “First Gabriel, then Lady Maria. You must be exhausted.”

He grunted. “That would be a fair assessment,” he said. “How is Gabriel faring, by the way?”

“Quite well,” Christelle said. “Once you moved Georgiana out of the chamber, he settled right in.”

“And Catie?”

“She feels guilty that we were all focused on her grief and not Gabriel’s.”

He glanced at her. “She will come to terms with it,” he said. “I hope. Though I’ve never had any luck deciphering females. You will have to help me.”

“I will if I can.”

He flashed her a grin and she responded in kind. It was a new day between them, a new moment, and the newness of it wasn’t lost on either of them. How many times had they walked together or served together, with nothing more than professional intentions? But this was different.

Very different.

With smiles on their faces, mostly looking giddy and foolish, Christelle and Leonidas ended up over at Leonidas’ cottage. Opening the door, he slung his weapon onto the bed and turned to Christelle, holding his arms up.

“Help me out of this, please.”

It was a surprising request, but she didn’t hesitate. The belts and scabbard came off, as did the tunic. He bent over and she deftly pulled off his mail coat, which weighed quite a bit. It also clung to him because he was sweaty, so she had to give it a few good pulls to get it off, grunting all the way, until it slipped off into her grip.

“Who usually helps you undress?” she asked, handing him the mail so he could put it on a frame. “Surely you do not do this all alone.”

He was down to his padded tunic and boots. “Not usually,” he said. “I’ve never had a squire, but there are plenty of soldiers to help. Will you do something for me?”

“Surely.”

“Send for hot water, please.”

Christelle did. She stepped outside the cottage, which had the door open the entire time, and summoned a nearby servant. As the man went running, Leonidas managed to strip off his padded tunic and the thin linen tunic underneath. Those went on the frame along with the mail, so by the time Christelle stepped back into the cottage, she was faced with a half-naked man who was pulling off his boots.

She froze in the doorway.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she stammered.

He had no idea what she meant. He paused and looked around, confused, before answering. “Removing my boots,” he said. “Why? What do you think I am doing?”

She pointed at him. “I turn my back for a moment and you are nearly nude.”

He looked down at himself and shrieked. “My God,” he gasped, pulling the nearest blanket over his bare chest. “I am! I’ll not be your feast for the eyes, you brazen woman.”

Christelle’s moment of shock was replaced by laughter. She laughed until she wept, until the servant returned with the hot water and Leonidas had his boots off. Unfortunately for him, his feet smelled horrible, and that made Christelle laugh harder. Leonidas stripped down to a pair of linen breeches and that was all, but she hardly noticed. She stayed in the open doorway as he washed his face and hands and feet and chest, everything that wasn’t covered with cloth. He had soap that smelled heavily of pine and even had bits of pine in it, so when he scrubbed, that scent filled the entire cottage.

But Christelle still stood back by the open door.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

He was washing his right foot. “Much,” he said. “Contrary to what you might think, I do not enjoy my own smell when I’ve been sweating. I confess that I do bathe when I’m able.”

She dared to come away from the door, wandering inside. “That’s a woman’s privilege.”

“Then I’m a woman.”

“You are definitely not a woman.”

He looked up from his foot, grinning. “You noticed, did you?” he said. “Good. If I want to court you, then there should be something about me you find attractive.”

“I do,” she assured him. “Why do you find that surprising?”

He lifted an eyebrow at her before returning to his foot. “ Le Morsure. ”

She’d heard that before, long ago. “The Bite,” she said, smiling. “I heard that about you when you first came to Woodstock. Then I saw you with your helm on, and how it frames your mouth, and I understood. Most helms are not designed like that.”

He shrugged. “Most men do not have teeth like I do,” he said. “When I realized I could make myself look like a wolf, which suits the name, I had the helm designed. Le Morsure was a moniker my trainers gave me as a squire. Even as a lad, they said a strike from my sword was as sharp as a bite. That was something that made my father very proud.”

“Edward?”

He nodded, finished with his foot and rinsing it off. “My father is the son of the greatest knight in the north,” he said. “He could fight well enough, but he had five brothers who lived and breathed battle. He was the diplomat of the group and I think he always felt different because of it. I am his fifth child, but firstborn son, so when I was born, you can imagine how thrilled he was. And when I became a knight to take my place among the best de Wolfe knights in the family, I think he felt somewhat vindicated. That he could father so great a knight.”

“So your teeth had nothing to do with Le Morsure?”

He grinned. “Of course they did,” he said. “My maternal grandfather had a smile similar to mine, only my canine teeth are a bit more prominent.”

“Like fangs.”

“Exactly.”

“I think you have a lovely smile.”

He laughed softly. “It has never been called that before, but I thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

“Close the door.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss you and I don’t want it to be a spectacle.”

Christelle fought off a grin, looking at the open door as if debating his request. “You do realize that people will talk if they realize I am in here with you and the door is shut.”

“Am I allowed to tell men that we are courting?”

“Why should you want to?”

He frowned. “So no one else will try to court you, foolish woman. Why else?”

She was terribly flattered. “No one has ever said that to me.”

He huffed. “Well and good,” he said. “I hope they never do. I hope I am the only one who ever says it.”

“I am certain you will be,” she said. “You are rare in my world, Leo.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you look beyond the warrior,” she said. “Every man I’ve ever met has only looked at my skill and training. I’m not sure anyone has ever looked at me.”

“As a woman.”

“Aye.”

Leonidas put both feet on the floor and stood up. He was more than a head taller than her, a very big man who now smelled of pine. He approached her, drawing close, and came to a halt when he was just a few inches from her. For a moment, they simply stared at one another in a deeply intimate moment. His bare chest was right in front of her face and Christelle’s cheeks were so hot that she was certain she was about to burst into flame. No man in her life had ever provoked such a reaction, and it was both wonderful and intimidating. She knew she wanted something from him but wasn’t sure what. That kiss he asked for? A simple touch? A kind word? Her body was yearning for something she couldn’t put her finger on.

All she knew was that she needed it.

“I see you,” he whispered, sending chills up her spine. “I see the woman and she is exquisite. Mayhap she could brush her hair once in a while or bathe with my pine soap. If she did that, she would be the most magnificent woman in all of England, but the truth is that it does not matter to me. I will take you as you are, Christelle de Lorrain, with your wild hair and dirty face. I will take you with your breeches and tunics, or borrowed dresses. I will take you with your stubborn nature and red crosses stitched into my forehead. Even if you do not want to take me right now, I will wait for you because I’ve been married once. I know what it is to feel for the woman you have married. You make me feel as I did for Juliette, only stronger somehow. There is a pull from you to me that I cannot deny. So, aye… If you do not want me now, I will still wait for you. I will always wait for you, as long as it takes and for as much as it is worth. Because you are worth everything.”

The last words out of his mouth were like an aphrodisiac to Christelle. She’d never felt anything like it. His words made her want to embrace his naked flesh and kiss it, and embrace and kiss it she did. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him right on the chest, on the flesh that was directly in front of her, and she heard Leonidas groan low in his throat. So she kissed him again and again, kissing his chest and the soft matting of hair across it, kissing it as her fingers dug into his back. She kissed his powerful breast, even kissing his left nipple, and suddenly, his hands were in her hair and he was pulling her head back. His mouth descended on hers and she was trapped.

Their kiss was powerful and passionate. His tongue licked at her lips, inviting them to open for him, and she did. It was her turn to gasp as his tongue licked her teeth and his lips suckled her own tongue. He kissed her so hard that he nearly drained the life right out of her, and probably would have had she not pulled away so she could take a breath. But he didn’t stop his onslaught.

He simply moved to other parts of her body.

Christelle was aware of his lips on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her, but she didn’t care. She was lightheaded, feeling each new sensation as if they were bolts of lightning. Every move caused her to tremble. When his big hands moved down her back and gently grasped her buttocks, both of them, she flinched.

Leonidas held her fast, his mouth coming up from her shoulder. “I am sorry,” he murmured. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head quickly. “You did not,” she said, meeting his lusty gaze. “But this… this is all new to me.”

“If you do not want me to touch you further, I will not.”

Her eyes glimmered. “I think you should,” she said. “No one else has. I think I’d like to know what I have been missing.”

He chuckled softly. “You are ever-fearless,” he said. “But I do not want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I will not know until you do it.”

“Then let me show you,” he said softly. “If you decide you do not like it, then I will never do it again.”

Christelle nodded. It sounded fair enough. On this night, she was wearing one of the garments loaned to her by Catherine, the simple broadcloth she’d been wearing since her arrival. The garment was laced between her breasts, which she filled out better than Catherine did, so there was some strain to the material. Leonidas began to carefully unlace the bindings. One by one, the holes were unlaced until the string was cast aside. The shift was now nearly open to her navel. As the noise from the bailey infiltrated the closed door and small, coverless windows high in the chamber for ventilation, Leonidas very gently pulled her shift off her shoulders, exposing her tender, pale skin. He watched the top of her breasts become more exposed until the edge of the fabric was just above her nipples. But he would go no further.

“May I?” he whispered.

Christelle was breathing so unsteadily that she was certain she was going to faint. It was an overwhelming experience but an extremely intimate one. She probably should have stopped him but it didn’t occur to her to do it. She was as curious as he was, and her body was on fire for reasons she did not understand. All she knew was that Leonidas had sparked the blaze. When he asked the question, she swallowed hard.

“May you… what?” she managed to ask.

He smiled. “I am asking permission to show you.”

“Show me what?”

Her na?ve question had him laughing softly. “Must I tell you?” he said. “Can it be a surprise? I promise it will not hurt. If you do not like it, I will stop.”

She considered his proposal. “You are aware that we should not be doing this at all,” she said. “The only time I have ever been kissed by a man was by you. And now, here we are, alone in your cottage as you unlace my bodice.”

“Do you not like what we are doing?”

She nodded, her cheeks growing hot as she lowered her head. “I do,” she said. “Leo, I have spent my entire life alone. Because of my father’s insistence that I train like the son he never had, I have always been misplaced wherever I’ve been. Phillipa was the first person who accepted me for who I am. She has never made me feel odd.”

“Have I?”

Christelle shrugged. “Not really,” she said. “But you have never treated me like a colleague, either.”

“You are not.”

Her brow furrowed. “I am a warrior, like you.”

He shook his head. “But you are not a knight,” he said. “You may have trained as much as a woman could train, but you are not a knight.”

“That does not make me inferior.”

“Have you ever fought in a battle?”

She sighed sharply. “Nay, I have not.”

“And you still think you are my equal?”

“Why on earth would you want to court a woman you consider inferior to you?”

“That was your word, not mine.”

Frustrated, she began pulling up her bodice. “My whole point in telling you all of this was to say that I have always felt misplaced,” she said with some anger. “I was going to tell you that you have made me feel accepted, and wanted, but now the truth comes out. I am not a comrade. I am not a knight. I am nothing.”

He watched her jerky movements. “You are not a colleague and you are not my equal,” he said. “I can out-fight you and outthink you. I am stronger than you are. I can easily overwhelm you. But you are, without a doubt, the bravest, strongest, and loveliest woman I have ever had the good fortune to meet. We are not equals, Christelle. But we are quite alike, you and I. I do not think there is another soul in all the world that I respect and admire more than you.”

That brought her pause. One side of her bodice was up, but the other was still hanging down around her arm.

“You have a strange way of complimenting me,” she said.

He shrugged. “It is not a compliment,” he said. “It is truth. I will never lie to you and I suspect you will never lie to me, either. I’ve always thought you to be a woman of honor. Am I wrong?”

Christelle felt as if she’d been kicked in the gut. Was he wrong? Of course he was wrong. She’d been lying to him since the day she met him. She’d been lying to all of them. But gazing into his blue eyes, she just couldn’t tell him that. She knew that if she admitted it, he’d never speak to her again. To a man like Leonidas, honor was everything.

And she had none of it.

Withholding her true self hadn’t been an issue before he declared his desire to court her. Certainly, she’d thought about it, but more in the context of keeping it from those around her and doing what she’d been sent to do. But that all changed the moment Leonidas declared his interests. Now, it was front and center. Perhaps she should throw caution to the wind and simply experience this moment with him. She hadn’t planned on letting it go any further than the kiss he requested, but here she was with her bodice down around her shoulders. He wanted more of her and she was letting him take it without a fight.

Truth be told, she wanted to experience the magic she never thought she’d know.

“Very well,” she said quietly, peeling down the side of her bodice that she’d just put back in place. “You wanted to show me something?”

He smiled faintly, realizing they were past whatever conflict might have popped up. He hadn’t really meant it to, so he was glad to see that she didn’t want it to either. Now, the tops of those lovely breasts were calling to him and he took her in his arms, lowering his head and tenderly kissing the swell of her bosoms.

They tasted as good as they looked.

But he could only take so much. Chaste kisses and tantalizing visions were going to be the death of him. He gave a little pull and the right side of the shift pulled away, exposing her right breast.

Christelle gasped and weakly tried to cover up again, but he put his hand up to stop her. She didn’t fight him on it in the least. He gently suckled the flesh surrounding the nipple but made no move to do more. At least, not at the moment. He continued to kiss, very tenderly, and brought a hand up to very gently cup her breast. Then Christelle felt something warm, wet, and firm against her nipple.

He suckled hard.

Christelle couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips. Leonidas pulled her against him once more, tightly, suckling her furiously. Christelle cried out at the pleasure of it, her arms going around his head as he feasted. The tighter she held his head, the harder he suckled. They were engulfing each other.

It was like a firestorm.

For as gentle as he had initially been, Leonidas quickly deteriorated into lusty oblivion. He’d never had anything so sweet. He pulled the shift off her and laid her upon his bed, his big hands and searing mouth doing things to her that made Christelle feel faint. She was gasping for every breath as his mouth moved between her breasts, licking and suckling furiously. His hands were on her thighs, moving to cup her silky-skinned bottom with both hands as his passion overwhelmed him. She was soft and warm, and he was out of control.

Leonidas forgot himself as his mouth moved down her torso. He kissed and suckled every inch of it, listening to her gasp with pleasure. He vaguely remembered removing his breeches, and suddenly, they were naked together on his bed. Christelle grunted when his weight came down on her, instinctively parting her legs so that his weight slipped onto the mattress below them. Leonidas felt her legs part for him and the world seemed to stop for a brief and powerful moment. He knew what he was about to do. Perhaps he should stop himself, but he couldn’t. All he could think of was Christelle and her beautiful body. But it was more than her body—it was her mind, her spirit, and that damned stubbornness. There wasn’t anything about her that he didn’t find perfect, and the strength of his feelings was never more evident than it was at this moment.

He was in love with her.

He’d known that for a while, but he’d been denying it. Somehow, it seemed disloyal to Juliette’s memory even though he knew that was foolish. He’d loved his wife. Now, he had the opportunity to love again, but in a different, more powerful way. Juliette had been all soft and tender moments, pleasing and kind.

Christelle was like the fire of lightning.

He wanted to get burned.

Pulling her against him, he fused his lips to hers, thrusting into her hot and yielding body gently, swallowing her gasps of surprise with his delicious kisses. He withdrew and thrust again, pushing further into her and feeling her tense beneath him. He kept his kisses warm and passionate, hoping to relax her as his hands caressed her back and buttocks. When he withdrew a third time and thrust once more, sliding into her wet folds with a great deal of ease. Seated to the hilt, he savored the moment.

The feel of her fed him like nothing he had ever experienced.

He withdrew fully and thrust again and could hear Christelle gasping, but she was no longer tense. She seemed to be relaxing against him, becoming acquainted with a man’s body for the first time and discovering that she liked it. His hands caressed her torso, her breast, as he thrust again and again, carefully at first but increasing in power and passion. More thrusts, more friction, and Christelle was moving with him, groaning softly with delight. Her legs wrapped around his hips and he held her buttocks tightly, his pelvis against her, as he powerfully thrust into her.

Leonidas was consumed with the feel and smell of Christelle. He could see her nude outline in the weak light, the flare of her hips and the rise of her breasts. He thrust into her, feeling himself approaching his climax but not wanting to see the moment end. It was an incredibly powerful and important moment for him, coupling with this woman who had quickly come to mean a great deal to him. He thrust one final time, hard and long, acutely aware when her slick walls began to tighten around him. He held her tightly as she experienced her first release, listening to her gasp with surprise and joy, before taking his own.

But their passion did not die completely. There were sparks long after the explosions had settled. Leonidas continued to move within her long after their powerful climax, still wanting to be a part of the woman. She’d been so surprising in so many ways and, truthfully, he still found it difficult to comprehend that they were together. That he had admitted his feelings and she had returned them.

He felt like the most fortunate man in the world.

When the gasping and groaning finally died away, Christelle fell into an exhausted asleep in his embrace and he succumbed shortly thereafter.

They slept like that all night, the best night’s sleep either one of them had ever had.