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

Chapter Forty-One

“Do you trust me, Rebekah?”

An image slid into Bek’s mind. Of them in a sweaty mess of tangled limbs, thrusting, panting and moaning as he buried his large canines in her neck. There had to be something wrong with her. Some faulty wiring in her brain. Some dodgy hormone or synapse that fired up her lust, making her throb with it, instead of kicking in her survival instinct and urging her to flee.

Did she trust him? Hell, yeah. She wasn’t running. She was all in.

“Bring it on, wolfman.”

He did that growling thing again, and she all but orgasmed as it rumbled through her. Then he dipped his head, his large hands cupping and plumping her breasts, as his mouth licked and sucked, his teeth scraping over her taut nipple. With the sting of a nip and the rasp of his tongue, he devoured her. First one breast, then the other. Never had a man worshiped her breasts as he did now. It undid her, had her writhing beneath him and clutching her fingers in his hair to hold him in place. She never wanted him to stop.

Ulrik untangled her hands from his hair and held them above her head. He pinned her with his gaze as much as he did with his hands, and she could not look away. She could not breathe.

He pressed her hands to the bed. “Do not move them.”

She nodded, trapped in his orbit, incapable and unwilling to break free. He slid down her body, a wicked smile curling up the corners of his mouth. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips as he slipped an arm beneath her thigh and lifted her leg over his shoulder.

With only his gaze holding her prisoner, he swiped his tongue along the length of her seam. Bek flung her head back, her mouth dropping open in a silent gasp, and she all but bowed off the bed. He took another swipe, swirling his tongue around her clit, and this time she did cry out.

She’d wondered, back in the forest, if he’d be as good with his tongue as he was with his fingers. Now she knew. He was better. He raised his head and grinned, his lips glistening with her juices. It took everything she had to keep her hands where he’d put them, wanting desperately to press his mouth back to her throbbing flesh.

He shifted her other leg over his shoulder, opening her up and baring her for his perusal. “So pretty,” he murmured. He teased her folds open with his fingers. “So pink and so wet. And all mine.”

He set about licking and sucking her pussy until she was a mindless mess, whimpering and begging, hovering on the very edge, but never quite tipping over.

“Do you want to come, baby?” The murmur of his words, his hot breath against her core, had her clenching on air.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. ”

Then his tongue replaced the emptiness, slipping inside her, and with a flick of his thumb across her clit, Bek exploded. Her hands flew to her sides, clutching at the blankets. Bek squeezed her thighs on his face, keeping him in place as his tongue stroked inside her, wringing every last shiver and moan until she collapsed on the bed, panting.

Through hooded lids, she watched him. He gave her one last lick, a self-satisfied smirk on his face, then slipped her limp legs from his shoulders and got to his knees. He wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a long stroke. Then another, rubbing his pre-cum down over the crown. He wasn’t finished with her yet.

He flipped her over, dragged her ass in the air and pressed her shoulders to the down-filled mattress. Gripping her hips with those long fingers of his, he rubbed himself through her slick and swollen folds.

“Are you ready, Rebekah?”

She had the presence of mind to moan a response, nothing more. He lined himself up at her entrance, and slowly, inexorably slid inside her, stretching and filling her as she quivered around him.

“ Merde. You feel like …” He moaned. “Bliss.”

He ground his hips against her ass in a circular press that pushed deep, touching places and stroking previously unknown nerve endings into life.

He groaned again. “Rebekah , you ruin me. I cannot hold back much longer.”

Bek moaned into the bedding. “Then don’t.”

He howled, and the sound reverberated around the room. With a thrust of his knees, he spread her legs further and impaled her on his cock with a savagery she had only ever dreamed of. With her face pressed into the bed, she had no option but to take all that he had to give. He pounded into her, laying waste to her desire and challenging her to new heights that threatened to break down her walls and leave her crumbling. She encouraged him, goaded him to push her higher, gasping and moaning her need. He did not leave her wanting.

Then he dropped his body over hers, bringing him into full body contact and his hand slipped around to pinch her nub. Pleasure streaked through her and her orgasm hit with blinding force. She screamed, and he pinched her clit again and again as her core spasmed around him. He stiffened and thrust deep once more. He roared out his release and struck, sinking his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder. Pain, sharp and deep, sparked her orgasm higher, rolling over her like a freight train on steroids until she thought she would pass out from the ecstasy. She collapsed beneath him, trembling. A trickle of blood dribbled down her shoulder.

He rolled his weight to the side and pulled her with him, spooning her from behind, the rasp of his tongue across the wound sending shivers through her body. She floated, her body tingling and her mind lost in a post-orgasmic bliss even the throbbing of her shoulder couldn’t deflate.

It started with a tingle, her skin beneath his lips becoming oversensitive and the slide of his tongue annoying. She pulled away. The tingle became a burn, like a scald from coffee too hot to drink. The burn spread. Down her arm and across her chest, its fiery trail sped. Fingers of fire had found her blood and raced through her arteries and veins. A spasm gripped her body, and she cried out, her back arching as pain ripped through her.

Ulrik’s comforting presence left her and she whimpered, curling herself into a ball. The pain, the fire, reached her stomach and her lungs seized at the strength of it. Giving birth would be less painful.

Ulrik appeared before her, the goblet in his hand. He cupped the back of her head and pressed the rim of the goblet to her lips. “Drink.”

She took a sip and nearly gagged. The burning continued to spread, reaching her thighs and calves. No wonder that priest had been out of his mind. She grabbed the goblet from Ulrik, steeled herself, and threw it back like a shot of alcohol. Just in time. Another spasm ripped through her.

Ulrik took the goblet from her shaking hands and tossed it aside, then climbed on the bed and pulled her into his embrace. He said nothing, holding her, and it wasn’t long before her eyelids drooped.

“Shhsrong sstuff,” she mumbled, her head flopping back against his shoulder.

“Sleep now, baby. I will watch over you. I will take good care of you.”

Her head swam, and she could no longer feel her limbs. A heaviness settled over her body and the fire in her veins lessened, mere sparks from embers as her vision clouded.

“When next you wake,” he murmured, a whisper of breath on her forehead, “you will be one of us.”

The love in his eyes was the last thing she saw before darkness claimed her and she slipped into a deep sleep.