Wolf’s Redemption (The Wolves of Langeais #3)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

He had his cock in her. Finally. Ulrik dropped his gaze to where they joined. Had he ever seen a more beautiful sight? His body flush against the rounded white globes of her ass. Her head tossed back, green-streaked hair teasing her shoulders. Water rivulets dripping down her arched spine, over the strap of the contraption that caged her breasts. Her heated channel gripped him tight, and it took all his control and considerable experience to not rush toward his release.

He held her still, his hands clasped firm on her hips, resisting the tingling of his testicles and the need crawling up his spine.

“Ulrik.”

The word came out as a gasp, her chest heaving, the movement doing little to enhance the calm he was so desperately fighting for. He wanted to fuck her, savage her, like the animal he was, but he did not want to hurt her. Nor did he wish to frighten her, so he fought it. Never had a woman he had lain with made him want to let loose the beast inside as much as Rebekah did. Not even a she-wolf.

She thrust her hips back. “What are you waiting for?”

He sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the heady scent of her cum, her lust and the fragrance that was quintessentially Rebekah. Then he moved, sliding out and back into her with infinite slowness. She wiggled and he clasped her hips tighter, controlling everything—the motion, her and himself.

She growled, growled, at him. “Fuck me, Ulrik. Fuck me so hard and fast that I can’t remember my own name. That’s what I want. Give it to me. Or do I have to find another—”

He roared, the sound bouncing off the rock face and drowning out the waterfall. No other. Just him.

“Mine,” he rasped.

Then he gave her what she wanted, thrusting into her with a mindless, ferocious need, the sounds of her pleasure echoing within their cocooned space. Senseless, broken words spilled from her lips every time he bottomed out, spurring him on. She took it all and begged for more. For harder, faster, and fuck if he did not give her everything she asked for. The slap of his thighs on hers and her breathy moans unspooled the last remnants of his control. This woman…

She convulsed around him, screamed out his name and squeezed his cock so tight he thought his heart might stop. Pleasure ripped up his spine and he spilled his seed inside her, plastering her clenching channel with his essence. Were he not a werewolf, he would have thought the violent clenching of her pussy had forever sucked him dry.

Her legs gave out and he caught her, sliding them both to the rocky ledge in a tangle of limbs. He cradled her against him, her chest heaving as much as his. Bloody hell. She still wore that blasted contraption covering her breasts.

“This,” he said, in between panting breaths, his voice raspier than usual. “This needs to go.”

She chuckled, even as she clung to him.

“From the moment I first saw you”—he slipped one strap off her shoulder and trailed his hand across her breast, swirling a finger around her peaked nipple—“I have wanted to touch these, cup them in my hands.”

She sucked in a breath.

He slid the other strap down her shoulder and pulled the lace down, exposing her breast. “And take them in my mouth.”

He groaned at the sight he had laid bare. Merde, she is beautiful. He leaned in and sucked one large, turgid nipple into his mouth.

She shuddered and languidly pushed at him. “Ulrik, I don’t think I can—”

He released her nipple with a pop. “Just a little taste . ”

He dipped his head again and took the other nipple in his mouth, lathing it with his tongue and giving it a gentle nip with his teeth. It got impossibly hard beneath his ministrations.

She moaned, but then pushed at him harder. He released her nipple with a slow, reluctant slide of his mouth and a lingering glide of his tongue.

He eyed the frown that had settled across her brow and the wariness in her eyes. “Rebekah?”

She rubbed her face with her hands. “We didn’t use a condom.”

“Con-dom ?”

He rolled the unfamiliar word across his tongue, trying to guess its meaning. Con dom? Was it some sort of device to enhance her experience of sex? He had pleasured her well. Fucked her till she had screamed out his name. He needed no device to aid him in bringing her to release. He pulled away from her, offended by her suggestion he did.

“Yeah, protection.” She waved her hand at his cock, erect and instantly willing for another bout of sensational sex. “Like armor for your dick.”

Armor for his dick?

She laughed at him. “You should see your expression. It’s not real armor made of steel. God forbid. Wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?”

She laughed again and the bouncing of her breasts drew his eye.

“Condoms are latex—a stretchy, waterproof material and it’s shaped…well… It fits over your cock when we have sex and protects us both.”

Ulrik stared down at his cock. It shriveled a little at the thought of covering it with anything, at the idea of a barrier between his cock and her warm, wet heat.

“I know this might seem like a foreign concept to you, but in the future we have things to protect against unwanted pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases.” She glanced down, the evidence of their union glistening on her thighs. “I have a contraceptive implant—something to stop me having babies—and it’s good for another two months—but a condom helps stops any nasty diseases that can infect you through body fluids.”

He grasped her by the hips, ignoring her squeal of protest, and lifted her onto his lap. “Do not fear, Rebekah. You are safe with me. Regardless of this implant , or our lack of co n- doms, there is no risk of either pregnancy or disease.”

“Is that a shifter thing?”

Shifter? He thought for a moment . Ah, yes. Someone who could shift forms.

“It is a werewolf thing, yes. Werewolves can only procreate with other werewolves. As for disease, our werewolf blood destroys anything detrimental to our health and survival.”

“That’s handy.”

Ulrik slid a hand up from her hip to her breast, certain the literal translation did not apply, but determined his hands would not be idle. Not when he had this beautiful woman in his lap. He slipped his other hand down to her inner thigh, but she pushed it away.

“I’m all sticky.”

The evidence of their union, of his scent on her, pleased him, but he would forgo that delight to have her again. “Then before I feast myself on those wondrous breasts of yours, I shall wash you off.”

He grinned, lifted her off his lap and tossed her through the waterfall and into the pond. She shrieked, hitting the water with a splash and sinking below the surface. Ulrik jumped in after her, landing beside her as she came up spluttering.

“You bastard.”

She laughed, wiping water from her eyes and smoothing her hair back off her face.

From the tone of her words, and the splash of water she shot in his direction, she was not questioning the legitimacy of his birth, rather cursing him. She splashed him again, laughing, and dove away as he reached for her. She was not fast enough, and he scooped her up in his arms and pulled her into his embrace. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and her arms around his neck.

His gaze dipped to the black material still partially covering her breasts. He reached up and fingered it. “This thing has to go.”

“My bra?”

She laughed again and he rejoiced at the sound. His life of late had held little laughter.

“You’re such a boob man.” She reached behind her, fiddling with the clasp and the garment fell away and she slipped the shoulder straps off her arms. “Happy now?”

Oh, yes. He snatched the offending garment from her and tossed out into the pond. It sank below the surface.

“Shit. I need that.”

He slid his hand across her wet and slippery breast and thumbed her nipple. “No, sweetness. All you need is me.” He walked her to the edge of the pond and laid her down in the shallows, water lapping at her sides as he nestled between her thighs. With a throaty moan, he buried his face in her lush bosom.