Castle of the Wolf (26 page)

His fingers brushed over the springy hair at the apex of her thighs, while she stared at the card, at the woman who stood so proudly—and at the man who orally pleasured her.

One of Fenris’s fingers found the little nub between her legs and flicked. Cissy moaned loudly. Her eyes fell closed. Her back arched, and she pressed herself against his fingers.

“Do you feel the heat, my sweet? Do you?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. “
Yes
.”

His finger slid deeper, sinking into her. “Ahh, and how wet it makes you.” Sultry satisfaction rang in his voice. “So wet you’re overflowing.”

She could feel his finger moving inside her, in and out, sliding easily through her moist heat. She panted. Surely this was too much. Nobody could feel so much and still live.

“Look at the queen, Cissy. Do you think she is as wet as you?” His deep, dark voice flowed over her, added to her delight, and she whimpered again.

Abruptly, his fingers disappeared, leaving her empty and aching. So empty, she could have wept. She blinked and looked at him as he loomed above her. “Don’t…don’t stop,” she begged.

He raised her hand holding the card. “Look at the queen, Cissy.
Look
at her.”

Almost sobbing, she complied.

“Beautiful, is she not?” With tender hands he stroked the damp strands of hair out of her face. “Can you imagine what she feels?”

“Fenris,
please
!” Her whole body ached for his touch.

The flame of the candle flickered, making the woman on the card shudder wildly.

Cissy shivered. “Please, Fenris, please…”

He stared down at her, his eyes darker than she had ever seen them. Frantically, she reached up to stroke his cheek, his chin. “Fenris, please. Please, I beg you. I…”

A dark, dangerous smile lifted his lips. “Shall I show you?”

“I— What?”

His gaze flickered to the card. “Will you let me…?” His voice trailed delicately away.

He would…?

Cissy gasped. She felt as if she were burning up from inside.

“Yes or no, my sweet?” His lips roamed her face, raining kisses on her brows, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. But it was not enough. Not nearly enough.

Shuddering, she let her head fall back and closed her eyes. “Oh, yes,” she breathed. “Yes.”

He took her mouth with his, branded her with his tongue. “As you wish,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. And a heartbeat later, the cover was ripped aside, her scattered cards rustling like the wings of little birds.

Cool air washed over Cissy’s hot body, but only for a moment, then his mouth was there, nibbling on her collarbone, tracing the outline of her breasts and then—
yes!
—kissing his way down her stomach. She moaned as his tongue dipped into her belly button, whirled around. Her thighs fell open.

Against the black of her closed lids she saw the queen of spades, proudly displaying her nakedness. The man sitting at her feet, licking her, licking… Fenris!

Cissy screamed.

His tongue flicked over her again and again, ran teasingly up and down her folds and dipped into her wetness. And as he sucked on her, he catapulted her right into the sky and made her fly.

She felt his hands clamp around her waist as she thrashed helplessly on the bed, moaning his name.

And he licked and licked, like the man on the picture. He licked until the sky exploded into a thousand stars, raining down on her.

Cissy’s scream echoed in the room, but still Fenris did not cease, and she could not evade his tongue, even though she whimpered and begged. He licked and teased and a second wave washed over her…and another…and another…until she lay in his arms, damp and limp, and thought she had surely died with so much pleasure.

His hands stroked her in gentle circles, soothing the tremors which still wracked her body. “The most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” she heard him whisper. He nuzzled her ear, traced its outline with his tongue.

Then, when she was still lying boneless against the pillows, he gently turned her around so she was facing away from him. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her back against his chest, slick with sweat. She could feel his erection against the small of her back, so hot he must surely burn her skin. And then he lifted her leg a little and in one smooth thrust slipped inside her.

It was enough to rouse her from her languidness and make shafts of fire pierce her body once more. “Ahh,” she groaned. Her head fell back against his shoulder.

“Do you like that?” he murmured, his breath a warm caress against her ear, while he flexed his hips and slowly moved inside her.

“Mmmm.” Her sigh ended in a moan, as his hand found her breast. She wriggled her bottom against him.

A soft laugh drifted over her cheek. “I gather that means you like it.”

This time, their loving was slow and dreamy. He moved without haste, his hands tender on her body. His warmth surrounded her, flowed into her, until the barriers between their bodies blurred and the pleasure swept over their heads like a dark wave. They floated in it, and it gently carried them over into sleep while they were still joined: she wrapped in his arms, he embedded deep inside her.

So deep he must surely touch her heart.

Interlude

The happiness soaked through them until they fairly hummed with it. They remembered such happiness from ages past when they had been filled with joy.

Would the joy return to them now, brighter than sunshine?

Would there be enough happiness to chase away the shadows, to break the ice of desolation?

They hoped and waited.

Sometimes a tiny spark was enough to ignite a mighty fire.

Chapter 19

The second time Cissy woke, it was to sunshine and birdsong—and to a cold, empty space next to her in bed.

Fenris had opened one of the windows, and the fresh, crisp morning air had already chased away the scent of their lovemaking. A feeling of loss stabbed at her heart, as sharp as any knife. And fear. Was he embarrassed that her maid might come in and smell it, their passion, the joy they had found and shared?

All at once, tears pricked in her eyes.

She turned her face into the pillow where his head had rested. His scent still clung to the linen, and greedily she inhaled it.

Wolf, my wolf.

She sighed.

For a moment, she lay limp, then she rubbed her cheek over the pillow and remembered the moments she had hugged him to her, when she had buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder. She remembered the weight of him when he had moved inside her body, and the even more delicious heaviness of him after he had orgasmed that first time. He had lain so still she might have thought he had died had it not been for the thundering of his heart against hers. He had smelled so sharp and sweet, of joy and love. Love…

Cissy rubbed at her eyes.

How she would have loved to wake up with him to a new morning. How she would have loved to hug him to her once more, to feel his living warmth, his strength and gentleness. To feel how well their bodies fit together, so very well.

Frowning, she sat up. Why
wasn’t
he here with her?

Something pricked at her thigh, and when she reached down to remove whatever had caused the little sting, she found the knave of clubs smirking back at her. In fact, her cards lay scattered all around the bed, showing their shiny, innocent daytime faces. Cissy looked from them to the burnt-down candle beside her bed.

“It’s no use pretending last night hasn’t happened,” she told the knave of clubs grimly. “So you can just stop.” She scrambled up and retrieved her cards.

Yet one was missing. One was…

She found the queen of spades under her pillow, slightly crumpled but still smiling serenely. Cissy pressed the card against her heart. “You and I, we both know what happened last night,” she whispered to the queen. “And we will hold on to it. Yes, we will.”

~*~

Cissy did not bother to wait for Marie, but donned her wraparound stays over her chemise and chose a simple morning dress. She splashed some cold water into her face and quickly combed out her hair. After braiding it tightly, she pinned it up and deemed herself respectable enough to confront her husband.

She took a deep breath.

He would know, just like her, that her simple, respectable appearance was a daytime façade, too. In his arms she had become a wanton, had been naked, and had lost all decorum. And yet, she refused to be ashamed, for there had been so much joy and pleasure.

And love.

For a moment, she had to close her eyes. But yes, that too. Love.

She picked up the queen. “I will not feel shame for something so beautiful,” she told the card before she slipped it into her pocket. Determined, she walked out of her room and started to search for her husband.

She found him in his study, deeply engrossed in his account ledgers. Cissy’s heart softened as she stood unnoticed in the door and watched how he ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. Concentration tightened his features and had created a wrinkle between his brows.
So he just has work to do.
She felt an overwhelming urge to kiss the wrinkle away, to smooth her fingers over his face and chase away all that tension.

Smiling tenderly, she stepped fully into the room. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she said.

Clearly startled, he looked up. The line between his brows deepened even more. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I’ve got work to do,” he finally said curtly, and busied himself with his papers once more.

Cissy’s steps faltered. But hadn’t she thought it herself last night: that it would need much loving to fully redeem the beast?

“You were not there when I woke up,” she said. She heard how plaintive the words sounded, and her fingers curled into fists at her sides. Still, she continued, even though it cost her some pride. “I missed you,” she added softly.

“As I said, I’ve got work to do.” His voice was even more distant than before, and this time he wouldn’t even look at her.

Cissy licked her dry lips. She had to work hard at making her voice sound cheerful. “But surely you’ve got time for breakfast? It would be lovely if we could have breakfast together and—”

“I’ve already told you, I’ve got work to do,” he snarled. Cissy flinched, for he sounded nothing like the man who had lain in her arms the night before. “You aren’t deaf, are you?”

She gasped. Last night she had given all of herself to this man, who was now treating her like an inconvenient nuisance. Cissy’s nails dug into her palms, hoping the pain would distract her from the hot prickling of her eyes. “I thought after we shared something so beautiful last night, that—”

Fenris looked up, and she couldn’t go on. There was no sparkle in his eyes, no twinkle of heat. They were flat and dead.

“Last night was…”—something had happened to his voice, and he had to swallow hard before he continued, his tone frosty—“…a pleasant distraction.”

Pain blossomed in Cissy’s chest. Such terrible, terrible pain, as if he had shot a dart into her breast, and her heart’s blood was now running freely down her body to stain the carpet like her virgin’s blood had stained the linen sheets. She had given all of herself…and he did not care.

She lifted her chin a notch.
Courage.
“If you see it like this…” But then her voice wobbled. She could not go on. She whirled and fled the room so he would not see the tears on her cheeks.

~*~

Fenris leaned his head against the bookshelf and closed his eyes, his body aching with weariness. Last night had been… How to describe an experience where he had felt blessed and cherished for the first time in years? In Cissy’s arms he had become reborn. Her ardor and desire had almost led him to believe that he could become strong and whole again. A man instead of a cripple.

A bitter laugh escaped him.

No, that was why he’d been forced to be cruel just now. For, of course the King of Dwarves had no business courting the Fairy Princess in the first place. Her beauty was far too removed from his ugliness. All he would achieve was to drag her down into his darkness. And this he refused to do. He was filled with too much bitterness, was too twisted inside out. All these years of loneliness had eaten away at his soul until he was more beast than man.

It had been a mistake to let himself be overwhelmed by her sweetness. He had been charmed by her intelligence and humor. Foolishly, he had brought her a present because he had thought it would make her smile—and God knew, he craved her smiles. Foolishly, selfishly, he had not been able to resist stealing a few sweet kisses, had not been able to resist touching her until his damned lust had blown away all common sense. Until he had forgotten what he was.

A cripple…a freak…half a man.

His brother had been right: It would be a miserable marriage bed indeed for Celia. He would only taint her with his ugliness. And he was not beast enough to want that.

No, it was better to stay away from the Fairy Princess.

For the King of Dwarves, there were only dreams—impossible, foolish dreams—never to be reached in real life.

He would not forget again.

~*~

Days and weeks passed, and her husband evaded Cissy like sand running through her fingers. If, by chance, she happened to come across him on her wanderings through the silent castle, the soft whistle of the wind her only companion, he stopped and stared as if he were seeing a ghost. His features would shift, turn to stone, and he would hastily walk away, his uneven steps echoing in the hallway.

Yet even then she saw the man she loved. She watched the smooth flow of the muscles in his back and remembered the feeling of them under her hands when he had moved above her, inside her, when their bodies had melted to become one. Her skin prickled, yearning for his touch. Her whole body ached for him, for the delight he had brought her, and for the feeling of shelter and protection she had found in his arms.

But even sharper than this pain in her body was the pain in her heart. It cried out for him, cried and cried in vain.

So she wandered the hallways and roamed the ramparts, accompanied by the lonely song of the wind through the trees. Dark and impenetrable, the forest spread around the castle, and the village at the foot of the hill seemed far, far away and so small it could have been a child’s toy.