WitchofArundaleHall (10 page)

Sarah scrambled down from the carriage and caught Perry’s
arm. “You’re hurt.”

His wild expression made her pulse pound and the inhuman
growl that purred from his throat had her swallowing nervously. His hairy paws
shot out and gripped her upper arms in a bruising hold. She had the mad thought
that there was no other like these wolves of Arundale, their dexterous limbs
more human than animal, but their transformed faces so completely alien. The
curse had taken the dark, primitive traits of a man’s nature and given it form.
Trapped somewhere between man and monster, Perry in this manifestation was like
nothing else.

For a moment she believed that the beast would win, that she
would be ripped apart. But Perry stood in the wolf’s place an instant later,
the change so quick Sarah hadn’t seen it happen. The beast was gone but the man
was no less rough or insistent. He yanked her into his arms, one hand climbing
up her thigh, tearing off her undergarments and wrapping her leg around his
waist.

Open to him, she struggled to remain still, gripping his
shoulders to keep her balance. With three strides he moved them both against a
large oak tree and pressed her against its harsh bark.

He threaded his hand through her hair and tilted her head
before he plundered her mouth. His kiss was wild, demanding, overwhelming. His
tongue swept inside her mouth and tangled with hers. She whimpered as his
fingers dug into her scalp and an erotic tingle spread through her body.

The wolf unleashed needed its mate and the man wanted his
wife. The two needs collided into one and Sarah knew it had to be sated. His
smell overpowered the scent of blood and she needed that too.

It should have appalled her that Perry had killed all those
men. It should have disgusted her that he wanted her body after so much death. Instead
it thrilled her that he had defended them and she needed to give him the
oblivion he wanted.

That she wanted too.

When he tore his mouth from hers, she gasped for air. His
teeth scraped the sensitive skin of her neck. One hand still buried in her
hair, he used the other to slide up her thigh, to cover the telltale mark with
bruising pressure. The contact sent her arousal higher and higher until she
cried out to him.

“Please take me!”

His voice was almost a growl when he answered her. “I want
you to come for me. You’ll do it. Won’t you, Sarah?”

“Yes! Yes!” She arched her back, the bark stinging her skin.
As she thrust her hips against him he growled, the predator intimidating its
prey. She burned and ached to be possessed, to be his.

His hand crept up her thigh and cupped her pussy in a rough
caress that only made her cry out for more. When he invaded her with two
fingers she tightened around them. She was wet and needy, her muscles tense. Her
release beat like a drum but she held back, waiting for him to order it from
her.

He held her gaze and rubbed his fingers inside her as he
told her what he wanted to do to her. “I want to tear that dress off you and
feast on every inch of you. I want to tangle your hair in my hands and shove my
cock in your mouth until I shoot my seed down your lovely throat. I want to
come on your sweet lips and watch it drip from your skin.”

His erotic words drove her off the cliff she’d clung to and
she screamed as she heaved against him. Her release felt like a storm swirling
and breaking over them. He gave her no respite but bit her neck and thrust his
fingers in and out and until she was near to climax again.

Though he didn’t tear her dress he thrust his hand down her
bodice until he could touch her rounded flesh. When his fingers reached her
nipples and rolled them, she jerked in his arms, unable to control her
reaction.

Her hands gripped his head and she placed fast, needy kisses
on his lips, his cheeks, his chin. “Please. I need you inside me. Perry.”

With a curse and a lingering touch of his hands on her
breasts, he stepped back from her and yanked open his breeches. With an
impressive show of strength, he gripped her arse and put her legs around his
waist. One twist of his hips and he plowed her.

Hard and fast he took her, his hands roaming over her body,
lighting fires wherever they touched. She reached up and yanked on his hair to
bring his head down. Need drove her to bite his lip, to demand. His cock
pounded into her, driving her against the tree. His lips demanded her surrender.
His hands possessed her body.

Her orgasm detonated, tensing every muscle, squeezing him,
pulling him in. She wanted him to come. She wanted to feel that warm desire
inside her.

He broke the kiss and stared into her face. His guttural cry
echoed through her body and she felt his release explode inside her, sending
her reeling into another orgasm.

She floated. Perry murmured words over and over that she
didn’t understand for many minutes. “My love. My mate. You are so beautiful. So
soft.”

He rained kisses on her face and his hands soothed her skin
where he had minutes previously been rough.

It seemed like an eternity before her heart rate slowed and
she could breathe normally. She shifted, wanting to get away from him, needing
the distance to put her walls back up. He couldn’t know she was doing it for
him.

“No.” He stopped her movements. “Stay. You will not run from
me.”

“The horses—”

“Are fine,” he said, and leaned back so she could see that
the team had stopped off to the side of the track and were feasting on fresh
grass.

“The danger—”

“I will smell him instantly.” He gripped her chin and made
her meet his gaze. “Why do you continue to try to put distance between us? We
make love and then I feel you withdraw. Am I so terrible then?”

The uncertainty in his face broke her heart. “No. You are
not.” She couldn’t control the trembling of her lower lip. “I do not want you
to—” She struggled to find the words. Finally she decided to say them directly.
“I do not want you to become too attached to me. I am not the first of my
family to try to break this curse.”

He frowned, clearly not understanding. “They tried and
failed?”

She glanced away. “No, they tried and died.”

Still buried in Sarah’s body, Perry wondered if he’d heard
her right. Her death? Never! “No. I will not allow it.”

“It is the only way and there is no guarantee of success.” She
shoved against him, which only made him tighten his grip. He would never let
her go.

“Is this what the scrolls say? How do you know this is
true?” He heard the sharp tone of his voice and tried to calm down. “If you
know all this, why are we going to see these scrolls, Sarah?”

Her lips trembled and she wouldn’t meet his stare. “Lady
North told me—”

“She’s a liar,” Perry snapped. He cupped Sarah’s face and
forced her to look at him. “You want to see if she was wrong.”

A single tear slid down Sarah’s cheek. “She told me if I was
ever Claimed by a wolf, it would cost me my life to stop the curse.” Her face
was drawn in misery and she jerked her head away from his hold. “I should have
left after that day. I should have run from you then. Now I will only hurt
you.” She ended with a whisper and Perry’s heart clenched.

“Sarah—”

Her head snapped up and she interrupted him. “You’ll be like
Marcus, alone, grief-stricken. I couldn’t do that. I have to do what I must to
end the curse. It’s my destiny.”

Perry bent down and kissed her gently. “Who says?” he
murmured against her mouth.

She arched away from him. “If I don’t it will be another two
hundred years before it can be broken.”

“I don’t care.” He nuzzled her neck and her scent went
straight to his cock, still buried in her sweet warmth.

“Your children—” she started.

“Our children.”

“What if the papers were right and our child dies? Can you
live with that?” She sounded exasperated then gasped when he bit her in the
spot where her shoulder met her neck.

Perry noted the despair in her voice and the fear in her
gaze. He released her hands and cupped her face. “Sarah, I do not believe it.
Whatever happens I will face it with you.” He touched his lips to hers.

Tears squeezed from her eyes and stained her cheeks. “I am
nothing, Perry. Worthless. There is no future with me. I was born for one thing
and one thing only—to stop this curse.” She leaned in to his hand. “I could
never give you children but I can give you freedom from this thing that has
hurt you.”

“If the price is your life, my love, then I do not want it.”
He eased his cock out and then slid back in, a slow, seductive move that made
her gasp. “If we have no children then so be it. If we only have our children
for a short time, we will deal with it.”

“Perry—” Her voice broke. “It’s not that simple.”

He held her gaze. “It is that simple.” He decided it was
time for the talking to stop. Urgently he thrust inside her, trying to drive
away all thought and grief, giving her only pleasure.

“My love, my sweet. You feel so good, so tight.” He lifted
her legs and she wrapped them around his waist. “I want to feel you come now,
Sarah. Do it now.”

On his last word she arched back, her feet tight against his
arse, and she clutched his shoulders. “Master,” she whispered, then screamed as
her pussy flooded his cock with warmth.

Barely able to think, he increased his thrusts, wild, needy.
Her release stroked his cock, squeezed him in its velvet grip and he exploded
inside her. Perhaps there would be no children but he would bury his seed
inside her forever if he could.

She jerked and twitched in his arms, which gave him
animalistic satisfaction. With care he slid away from her and picked her up to
carry her to their carriage. She was relaxed in his arms, her head tucked against
his shoulder, her hands clasped around his neck. When she nuzzled him he was
stunned to find his body reacted as if he hadn’t just had her twice against a
tree.

He placed her on the seat of the carriage and when he joined
her, he turned her to face him. “I love you. I won’t let you stop me from
saying it. Tomorrow we will view the scrolls but I don’t care what they say,
Sarah. You belong to me.”

Ignoring her wide eyes and open mouth, he gathered the reins
and yanked the horses back onto the road. Sarah, for once, was silent.

He loved her. Sarah’s heart soared and yet she was
conflicted too. The parts of the scrolls that Sarah had read were clear. Anyone
born with the ability to end the curse was doomed to face death and heartbreak.

Her ancestors had been witches.

In her youth Sarah had believed she was invincible. When
Lady North had told her the stories of her ancestors, of their heartbreak and
struggle against the DeFalk legacy, Sarah had had no inkling that it would
touch her.

Was that why Lady North had made such a point of telling
Sarah those stories? Witches and trials and crossed love were fairy tales, relegated
to a distant past that had nothing to do with the young, pretty Lady Sarah
Ayers.

But the stories seemed real now, more real than the rattling
of the carriage and the jolt of the road. Lady North had claimed she’d seen
these stories as if they were histories in the monastic scrolls at Bayeux. Sarah
had to go and see if they were true.

Lady North had stated that female descendants like Sarah who
were Claimed by a DeFalk wolf would lose their children before the age of five,
unnatural results of magic. The stories were filled with brave women fighting
to end the curse, becoming slaves to the evil wolves of the DeFalk curse and
dying rather than be chained to the beast. And if they didn’t die but were
forced to live with the curse, their children were cursed to die and misery the
only result.

So, yes, once Perry had marked Sarah she had, from that
moment, been determined to end the curse to save her unborn children. She’d
resisted Perry’s Claim since Lady North had said that a Claimed woman could not
fully reverse the DeFalk legacy. It would take Sarah’s death to do it now. She
had seen Perry’s child in her vision. It couldn’t be hers, unless what she knew
was a lie.

Everything hinged on the scrolls.

They arrived at the inn and Sarah realized how disheveled
she must look. Blood spattered her dress, which was torn and dirty. Her hair
had been yanked from its prim bun and spilled wildly over her shoulders. Not
only had she survived being accosted by murderers, but she’d been ravished by
her mate in the most primitive fashion, which had left her a bit rattled.

The footman stared in shock. “Madam,” he exclaimed. “There
is blood on your dress.”

It sounded better in French. “Yes, and there is blood on my
face. I wish hot water for a bath. Can you provide that, please?”

Perry’s lips twitched as he helped her from the carriage. “We
will both want a bath. Is there any change in our friend?”

“He has been resting comfortably, monsieur.” The footman
showed disapproval and Sarah’s face was hot with shame.

“What are you standing there for?” Perry snapped at the man.
“Get our baths ready.”

When the footman scurried away Sarah shook her head. “You
cannot be angry when someone makes me uncomfortable.”

“I can and I will.” Perry tipped her chin and stared into
her face. “You are the most courageous woman I know. No one will show
disrespect to you. I will not allow it.”

He took her arm and led her to the stairs. They checked on
Jaimison and found him sleeping.

The maid appeared in the hallway. “Your hot water is ready.”

When they reached their room the maid began to assist Sarah
but Perry interrupted. “I’ll assist my wife. Please inform the innkeeper that
we will come down for supper.”

The maid curtsied and fled the room.

Sarah kept her gaze lowered. In all her girlish imaginings
she had never known that a man could be so insatiable, so overwhelming. She’d
also had no idea that her own needs would increase with every touch.

His hands were firm but gentle as he undid the buttons and
stays of her clothing. He was efficient and quick as he divested her of the
layers that hid the body he knew so well. The last time she had been entirely
naked with him he had Claimed her. Now he was slow and methodical as he touched
every inch of her skin.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His hands were magic,
lighting a fire wherever they passed. He brooked no argument but led her to the
large tub that had been placed in the middle of the room.

As he took off his clothes she let herself stare. Though
Perry had spent many years lost in drink, he had also balanced it with
exercise. She had often seen him wield a rapier, fencing until sweat dripped
from his brow. He had taken long, solitary walks. His body had not deteriorated
at all. His broad shoulders remained taut and muscular despite his self-abuse. His
dark hair was mussed and his eye color flickered between cloudy gray and
intense blue. His features were sharp and angled, a change from the puffy,
unhealthy pallor he’d had before he’d quit drinking.

He allowed her to look her fill, not moving, unashamedly
aroused as evidenced by his engorged cock. She licked her lips and he groaned. “You
would test a saint,” he muttered.

The water slopped over the sides of the tub as he stepped in
with her. He sat down and pulled her to sit between his legs.

She expected him to drive them both to completion. Instead
he picked up the soap the maid had left for them and lathered it up in his
hands. It smelled sweet, like lavender. “I’ll have to wash your hair too,” he
said calmly as he slid his hands over her body.

“Oh no!” she protested. “I can have the maid—”

“I want to.”

She twisted around to look at him. “Why?”

He smiled. “I watched a maid wash a woman’s hair once. She
thought I was passed out, but I wasn’t. It seemed like a soothing, sensual
experience.”

As if he had all the time in the world, he cleaned them
both, taking special care to wash between her legs until she struggled to
remain still. Even as hard as she tried, water spilled onto the floor.

He finished, helped her out of the tub and used one of the
blankets left for them to keep her warm by the fire. He sprinkled soap flakes
into the bath water and beckoned her toward the edge of the tub. Then he said,
“Lean forward.”

She bent over and he began to slowly undo her hair. When her
tresses were freed he slid the blanket away. He used the pitcher to pour the
rest of the warm water over her hair. Gently, carefully, he washed the dirt and
blood from her wet strands. He dipped his hands in the water to rub the soap in
her hair. He slid his fingers through the curls that inevitably sprang up as he
rinsed her hair. The water flowed over her as his mouth had on that fateful
night he had Claimed her.

He was right. It was a sensual feeling, having his hands
stroking her hair, the warm water, the sensation of being cared for. His hands
were gentle, mesmerizing. He squeezed the excess water out and she reached for
the blanket to cover herself but he stayed her hand. His gaze locked with hers
and he made her stand naked in front of the fire.

With his heated perusal her arousal rose to an unbearable
pitch and she longed to drop to her knees, to take his cock in her mouth, to
touch him. Wordlessly he forbade her, staying out of reach. He retrieved her
hairbrush and began to slide it through her damp hair.

Time seemed to stand still. The strokes of the brush through
her hair soothed her and yet increased her need to touch. He took his time, as
if he enjoyed the quiet moments between them.

“Did your mother brush your hair, Sarah?” His voice was low.

“No.” It wasn’t easy to talk about her family. “I was always
different,” she said. She remembered how her mother had doted on her brothers,
their every need her desire. With Sarah she had been distant, almost cold. Compared
to that treatment, Lady North had seemed kind. “My father brushed my hair until
I was old enough to do for myself.”

“You were lonely, weren’t you?”

Tears stung her eyes. Why would this bother her now? She
understood things more now than she had then. Her mother, forced to bear
children by a man she did not love, probably told that the girl child the
family sought wouldn’t live to give her grandchildren. Of course her mother hadn’t
wanted to love her. “My father taught me to shoot and he gave me Dr. Vanguard. I
was spoiled as a child and allowed to roam freely with little interference.”

She had tensed unconsciously and realized it when Perry
stopped brushing her hair to touch her forehead. He held her still for a moment
before resuming his comforting brushstrokes. “I am sorry, Sarah.”

“For what?” She shook her head. “I was comfortable and,
until my parents died, well cared for.”

“And after they died?” he asked gently.

His kindness was killing her. She didn’t grieve for those
days. Some of the incidents had been her fault, not used to having her will
thwarted. Her mother had always been unavailable and her father and Dr.
Vanguard had doted on her. Her brothers had ignored her, so when she’d been
faced with the prospect of being a dependent in a household filled with strong-minded
people, she’d been unprepared. “I lived with Jasper for over a year. His wife
disliked me.”

“Why?”

She turned her head and met his gaze. “I wasn’t very
likeable.”

His expression was soft and sympathetic. “You were very
young and frightened.”

Her throat closed. She barely managed to speak. “I was
devastated,” she whispered, and Perry enfolded her in his arms. There was
nothing sexual in his embrace, only comfort and warmth. The tears that had
threatened slipped from her eyes.

“I am sure that I made things worse between Mariah and
myself but I was so lost. Jasper continued to ignore me, leaving my instruction
to his wife.” She pressed her lips together and Perry kissed away the stray
tears that remained. “They had a frequent guest, a Mr. Taylor. He began
to…admire me. Mariah was furious. I didn’t know then… I didn’t realize that…” Even
now she couldn’t voice what she had come to believe.