Taming the Lone Wolff

Twelve



Larkin could barely process her words, so crippling was the haze of lust that engulfed him. Winnie was the kind of woman who needed to be courted…cherished. He was long past such niceties in this instant, and it took everything he had not to shove her down in the raw dirt and pound into her until the roaring in his head and the fire in his gut subsided.

“What did you say?” He was befuddled, torn by a knife-edged desire beyond anything he had ever known.

Winnie turned in his arms to face him, her bountiful breasts crushed up against him, her delicate fragrance driving him mad. She tilted her head backward. Even, white teeth gleamed as she smiled. “I said I want you, Larkin. I never really knew I could feel this way about anyone. My brain tells me this is a mistake, but I don’t care. Take me to your bed. And show me how good it can be.”

He was barely aware of the trip from the cliffs to the house. They moved rapidly, insanely perhaps, through the forest. He was terrified she would change her mind, and equally terrified that he was treading a path he would bitterly regret.

He was not only choosing to ignore his guidelines about mixing business and pleasure, he was rewriting the whole damn rule book. But the time for rational evaluation was long past. Even if this was a colossal mistake, he had to have her. Once inside the castle, he spirited Winnie up a remote staircase. In the dimly lit, seldom-used stairwell, he drew up short, his chest heaving. “Your room? Mine?”

Her tiny grin was adorably sheepish. “You gave me a suite for a princess. Let’s live the fantasy.”

He would have stood on his head and recited the Greek alphabet if she had asked him to. In fact, pretty much anything Winnie wanted was his new mission in life. At her door he glanced both ways to see if anyone was watching. The hallway remained empty, so he twisted the doorknob and ushered her inside.

He gulped hard. “Do you need anything?”

Winnie’s eyes were huge. Her blush reached from her hairline to her throat. “I’d like to freshen up. I bought some new…well, in case…” She stuttered to a halt.

Larkin ground his teeth and managed to smile. “Fifteen minutes? I’ll jump across the hall to my room and do the same.”

Relief and shy pleasure beamed at him from those exotic eyes. “That would be great. You don’t have to knock when you come back…just, well…you know…come on in.” Now her cheeks were beet-red.

He backed toward the door, at some level worrying that if he lost eye contact with her, this amazingly perfect turn of events would go up in smoke. “I’ll be back.” It was more a vow than simple information.

She nodded, reaching into her suitcase and giving him a view of her heart-shaped ass. “I’ll be waiting.”

* * *

Larkin took a three-minute shower, brushed his teeth, changed into clean boxers and at the last minute added a knee-length navy silk robe his uncle had given him for Christmas. He’d left it here in his room at the castle, sure he would never wear it.

But something told him that if he walked back into Winnie’s bedroom mostly naked, his lover-to-be might hyperventilate. The robe seemed a prudent choice. Not only that, but the pocket came in handy for a stash of condoms. He slipped across the hall and, as instructed, didn’t knock…even though, technically, only twelve-and-a-half minutes had elapsed.

Winnie was true to her word. She was waiting for him. The room had been plunged into shadows. A single lamp burned on a low table near the window. She had pulled the hangings on three sides of the massive bed, leaving open only the ones facing the light.

Larkin had to walk around the edge of the bed to see her. The covers on the bed were shoved to the bottom of the mattress. Winnie sat cross-legged right in the middle, her hands clasped in her lap. Her lingerie was the product of good taste and unlimited funds. Likely French in design and construction, the aquamarine teddy trimmed in cream marabou left little to the imagination.

Cut high on the legs and low in front, the décolletage barely contained Winnie’s lush assets. Her waist looked tiny, and the thin strip of fabric covering her secrets was not quite doing the job.

Her white skin glowed in the soft light, but her eyes were dark pools of uncertainty. He was glad of the robe now. Because it helped disguise the fact that his sex stood at attention, eager and ready.

He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful, Winnie. Kick-in-the-gut, drop-dead gorgeous.”

Her teeth worried her bottom lip. “So do you.” She gulped as her eyes slid from his mouth downward all the way to where his robe tented “Larkin…”

He shed his outer garment and boxers matter-of-factly and put a knee on the bed, prepared to climb into the princess’s hideaway.

She held up a hand. “Stop.”

Dear God in heaven. He steadied his voice. “What, Winnie? What’s wrong?”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her gaze locked on the erection he could no longer hide. He was certain she didn’t realize what alluring things her distress did to her barely tethered bosom. “I’m scared, Larkin, that I won’t know how to please you.”

Relief made his head swim. “You let me worry about that, Winnie, my sweet.” He scooted to where she sat and reclined on one hip, his head propped on his hand. Testing the waters, he used one finger to trace the curve where her naughty lingerie rode high on a firm, silky hip.

Winnie squirmed, her eyelids fluttering shut.

He laughed softly. “Don’t hide from me, sweetheart. I want you to see us together. Flesh to flesh.”

She opened one eye warily. “Aren’t you going to turn out the light?”

“Oh, no, my little prude. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He grinned at her. “Take down your hair, Winnie.”

“I don’t want to. It’s so messy when I do that.”

“Please? For me?”

Her expression telegraphed reluctance, but when she began removing pins, the simple beauty of the act was unbearably erotic. She tossed the accessories on the floor and fluffed her hair with both hands. “Happy now?”

“Getting there,” he muttered. He pulled her onto her back and laid his hand, open-palmed, on her stomach as he leaned over her. The slick, cool fabric was no barrier to his explorations. He stroked her everywhere, his heartbeat racing as she squirmed and panted.

When he touched her between the legs, she stiffened, and her lashes closed tightly. “Relax, Winnie,” he said. “I won’t do anything you don’t like.”

One eye opened. “It has snaps.” The soft, barely audible whisper communicated mortified interest in what he had planned next.

“I know.” A wave of tenderness swamped him, tempering the hungry beast that rode him hard. He pressed gently at the groove between the pair of fasteners. Winnie groaned and lifted her hips.

He was rapidly reaching the point of no return. But there was one thing he had to know.

“Winnie?”

“Hmm?” She licked her lips.

“How many times have you done this? I’m not prying,” he said hurriedly. “Your secrets are safe. But I need to know.”

Long lashes lifted. Confusion warred with petulance. “One. Are you satisfied?”

“How long ago?” He’d had his suspicions, but hearing her say it aloud sobered him.

She flipped to her stomach, face buried in her arms. “Nine or ten years…give or take.”

The litany of curses that trembled on his tongue clamored for release, but he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. Her innocence was a treasure to be unwrapped slowly. Though his impulse was to take and take and take, hearing the confirmation of her lack of experience told him that gentleness would be the order of the night.

Raw passion could wait. But at the very least, he owed her romance, courtship, tender seduction. He wanted to know why. Why him? Why now? But he had to be patient. Winnie would tell him eventually. He had to believe that. Or else he would go insane imagining the worst.

He tucked her hair behind her ear, exposing one pink cheek. “Thank you for telling me. I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

She rolled over, her chest heaving. Tears welled in her eyes but didn’t fall. “I’m sorry I’m not more experienced.”

“Good God, Winnie.” He stared at her, aghast. “Why would you think it matters?”

“I thought you might be disappointed in me.”

The way she said it made him think someone had told her such nonsense. And that she had carried it around all these years.

“You’re perfect. Just the way you are.” He shifted his body so that he was half on top of her. When he lowered his head for a kiss, he was happy to feel her arms come up trustingly to encircle his neck. She tasted like minty toothpaste and reckless temptation. Sliding his tongue between her teeth, he felt the moment when the tension in her body sagged and she responded to him.

She returned the caress with her tongue, but she was tentative, clearly shy. His pelvis rocked gently against her hip, letting her feel his need. The kiss lengthened, changed tempo. When he nipped her lower lip with sharp teeth, she cried out and curled a leg around his, moving urgently.

He changed positions, sliding down in the bed to spread her legs. Winnie’s hands clenched the sheet, but she didn’t protest. Putting his mouth over the two snaps, he wet the silk with his tongue. Winnie responded with a keening moan. He pushed harder, until the fabric nestled in her sex. Sliding a finger beneath the narrow strip of cloth, he found Winnie wet and ready, her body ripe with passion.

Concentrating on pleasing her, he ignored the demands of his sex. His erection was painful, throbbing eagerly. But nothing took precedence over Winnie. Not even his own body.

Slowly, teasing her with gentle touches, he released one snap at a time. Peeling back the lower part of the teddy, he blew softly on neatly trimmed blond curls. Winnie’s back arched, her face damp with exertion. Watching her carefully to gauge her reaction, he slipped two fingers into her moist, swollen passage. Broken whimpers urged him on as he played her with shallow strokes.

The fit was snug, even around his fingers, and just thinking about what it was going to feel like when he took her the first time made him shiver with agonized anticipation. He used his thumb to apply delicate pressure to her *oris. That was all it took. Winnie climaxed instantly, her body writhing as she sobbed out a choked version of his name.

After a moment, he returned to her side and gathered her into his arms, her face buried in his chest. He felt her thundering heartbeat, inhaled the warm fragrance of her damp skin. Her limbs were lax, her entire body limp and heavy.

Though he needed relief badly, he savored this interlude of peace. He had never felt such an undeniable urge to give and not receive. Pleasing Winnie might almost be enough to satisfy him, had it not been an eternity since he had lain with a woman.

He shook her gently. “How do you feel?”

She rolled to look at him, but he didn’t release her. Her expression was half dazed, half bashful. “I feel incredible. You are amazingly talented at finding a woman’s weaknesses.”

“You bring out the best in me. And besides, it’s not weakness—not at all. It’s power. The utmost power of a woman over a man.” He realized even as he said it that his words were true. Winnie possessed a certain level of control over him, and he hadn’t understood the extent of that until just now. He was pretty sure he didn’t like it.

She scrambled to sit up, scraping her wild hair from her face. “I want to make you feel good. Like you did me. But I’m worried you’ll think I’m clumsy or foolish.”

Again, those echoes of someone else’s voice. He frowned. “Whatever you enjoy doing will make me feel good. Anything.” He tucked his hands behind his head, hoping to convey that the next steps were hers.

She studied his face anxiously. “I want to do for you what you did for me,” she said. “But I’m embarrassed. Do you mind if I turn off the light?”

“I need to see you, Winnie.”

“Please.”

Reluctance gripped him, but he understood her reticence. Perhaps lack of visual cues would even the playing field. He had far more experience. But he had given her carte blanche. “Okay. But when you get up to turn off the lamp, I want you to undress for me.”

He kept his voice even, unemotional. But her face paled before flaming with color. Her lashes dropped to shield her expression. “I will.”

Though he tried his best not to let her see, his entire body was rigid with explosive lust. Tasting her, inhaling the scent of her arousal, had wound him to a fever pitch. And now his little Winnie wanted to play games. God help him. As she left the bed, he turned his head toward the light and saw her reach for the straps of her teddy. Since Larkin had already unfastened the garment between her legs, all Winnie had to do was lift it up and over her head.

She did so slowly, not looking at him. The innocent striptease beat anything he had ever seen advertised in Vegas. When she was completely nude, she froze, and he saw her inhale a deep gulp of air. Though she faced him bravely, she had yet to meet his eyes.

Her petite body was perfectly proportioned except for breasts that were on the curvaceous end of the spectrum. From his vantage point, he had not a single complaint. Raspberry nipples stood at attention. Her waist nipped in above hips that were the perfect anchor for a man’s hands.

In the soft light, Winnie’s skin was the color of cream. She reminded him of a famous nude he’d seen once in a museum. A vividly sensual, feminine beauty fixed for all time on canvas. Like her predecessor, Winnie’s hair rioted around her narrow face. As he watched, she retrieved a hair band from the floor and brought the mass together in a messy ponytail.

When she lifted her arms, the shape and movement of her breasts made him weak. He wasn’t at all sure he was prepared for what was to come. He’d had many occasions in his adult life to experience sexual arousal. What he felt at this moment and in this room was something else entirely.

At last Winnie looked at him, her arms hanging at her sides. He suspected that she wanted to cover the fluff of hair at the apex of her thighs, but she did not.

“Come to me, Winnie,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She nodded jerkily, reached for the lamp switch and plunged the room into darkness. Moments later he felt the mattress dip when she climbed into their nest. Then he heard the rasp of rings on a metal rod as she pulled the final set of drapes shut, enclosing them in complete intimacy.

His eyes strained against the darkness. But it was as if he were blind. Only his imagination worked overtime, painting images of Winnie in his brain.

Her whisper broke the tension that held him. “Don’t move your hands unless I say so. I can’t concentrate when you’re touching me.”

“I’ll try.” He wondered if she realized what she was saying. Apparently he wasn’t the only one subject to this madness.

When she first made contact, he wasn’t expecting it. He flinched so hard that Winnie laughed softly. “Relax, Larkin. You can trust me.”

The same words he’d said to her on more than one occasion. Had she phrased it that way with intent, or was she merely responding to his jumpiness? He inhaled sharply, unable to stifle a moan when her small hands gathered his balls and caressed them.

He worried that he might embarrass himself. She avoided his quivering shaft and ran her hands down his flanks, his calves. One at a time, she massaged his feet, pressing her fingers deeply into the arches, separating his toes and kissing them one by one.

Sweet Jesus. When had he become so damned susceptible to an innocent massage? He felt her test the tendon at the back of his heel, recognized the brush of her hair as it trailed across his ankle. He gripped his own wrists beneath his neck and held on, feeling like a prisoner drawn on a rack.

Finally, she abandoned his lower extremities and moved to the head of the bed. Leaning over him, she ran her hands from his shoulders to his waist. “You’re so strong,” she whispered. “I love that about you.”

He sensed that her breasts swayed above his face. When she leaned forward an extra inch, he captured a nipple with his lips and teeth and sucked violently, dragging a cry from his temptress.

“The other one,” he demanded, chivalry lost in guttural command.

Without protest she complied, her hands now braced on his pecs. Her flesh was firm and sweet, like the perfect summer peach. This time, he backed off, swirling his tongue around the areola with teasing, light touches. He wanted more, but he had made a promise, and he would keep it as long as he could.

Moments later she withdrew. The muscles in his shoulders ached. His erection had been tight and full for so long that the pain of arousal had muted to a burning fire that engulfed his entire lower body. He tried to regulate his breathing. Used an old relaxation technique from his college days when he’d been constantly horny and unable to sleep. Nothing worked.

The agony of his need for her surpassed his self-control. He was ready to cry uncle when, suddenly, he felt the brush of her lips on his sex and she took him in her mouth all the way to the root.

“Damn it, damn it…” He pumped wildly, his hands grabbing at her head, anchoring in her hair, as he exploded. His release went on and on for seconds, minutes, aeons. Winnie, instinctive in her innocence, sucked him gently, even as he came, turning him inside out and leaving him weak as a baby with her head lying on his chest.

“Turn on the light,” he croaked.

She traced a fingernail on his flat belly. “No.” She had yet to touch him with her hands. Not where he wanted it the most.

“This isn’t up for debate. I want the lights on. Now.”

Her fist closed around his limp shaft, shocking it to life with a million volts of power. He groaned, insanely out of control. “I’ll do it myself.” It was an empty threat.

The humor in her voice called his bluff. “No, you won’t.” Gently she learned the rhythm that hardened him, that made his aching flesh ready for more. He wanted to grab her and take what was his. But he had promised her the driver’s seat, and some last thread of honor kept him docile beneath her torture.

Nothing she had done so far was out of the ordinary. Only her shy enthusiasm and his growing hunger for intimacy with her transformed the night into a fantasy. He was resigned now to being blind. Lord help him when he made love to her with the lights on. The sensory overload might turn him into a slobbering maniac.

Gradually, his shaft returned to full attention. His recent release had only taken the edge off his hunger. When Winnie ran her finger across the drop of fluid that signaled his readiness, he sensed her leaning back on her haunches. “Okay,” she said, her voice breathless. “You can do it now.”

“Do what?” In his current state, he couldn’t decipher the riddle.

“You know…make love to me.” Even in the dark he could detect her embarrassment at having to say it out loud.

He chuckled hoarsely, winded and panting. “Oh, no, baby. You’ve done everything right so far. Climb on top of me and take what you want.”