The wildness she sensed in him called to a part of her she had not even known existedanimalistic desires and untamed cravings beyond her ability to comprehend.
Blanketing her, his big body pressed hers into the soft furs. Their skin touched intimately, and yet it was not enough. She hungered for more . More of his touch, more of the sensations swirling through her. She needed a deeper connection. She wanted what he had promised her on the morning of their wedding.
To join their bodies so perfectly that she would feel him inside her soul .
She did not know what to do to encourage him toward that pinnacle, but he had taught her one thing thus far. He enjoyed her touch with unabashed pleasure.
So, she touched him. Everywhere she could reach. Over bulging shoulders and biceps, along a back corded with muscles that felt like rock under his satin-smooth skin. Her hands glided down over his buttocks, cupping the hard, round globes. Yet rather than satisfying her, the movement of her hands over his body only increased her need.
She wanted to urge his hips forward with her hold on his backside, but when she tried, he did not move. His stubborn strength spoke a silent message of control that both frustrated and delighted her.
His possession of her mouth did not abate and his body moved over hers while she writhed under his weight.
But none of it was enough.
And yet, it was almost too much. She wanted more. She wanted to stop. Her mind warred with her body while her heart sang a song she tried to tune out. One thing they all agreed on: she craved deeper connection. And yet the connection she felt already scared her stupid.
She tried not to think as she moved her hands up his body and then traced the lines of his face with her fingertips. It was an intimacy as profound as the feel of his hardened male flesh pressing like a stone against her thigh.
At the first soft brush of her fingertips along his jaw, Talorcs body went rigid with the need to claim Abigail fully. He did not understand why that simple touch acted as such a sirens call to his feral nature when a similar caress along his flank had only fed the fire of his sexual need. It had not turned his desire into an inferno he was in danger of not controlling.
However, control it he must.
He would not hurt his sweet wife. Despite his wolfs nature, he was no beast to take what he wanted without thought or consideration. The Chrechte were not animals, but humans with the enhancement of animal natures. Nevertheless, it was easier to mate in kind. Humans were often too weak to face a Chrechtes full passion.
Abigail was more gentle than most, definitely too gentle for his wolf, but she responded to him blithely oblivious to her peril. She touched him with wanton carnality he would never have believed a gently bred Englishwoman capable of. While he could not read her thoughts, she broadcast her need with every move of her small, silky body.
And she kissed with the hunger of a Chrechte woman claiming her mate.
As soon as the thought formed, he banished it with an angry growl. For all that she looked like an angel right out of Heaven, she was human. She had been born and raised English. She was not his mate, but she was his wife.
This night their bodies would consummate that truth.
He grabbed both her wrists and placed them by her head. Keep them there.
Her soft brown gaze was dark with desire, and she dared shake her head at him.
Obey me.
This time it was her eyes that spoke denial, though her lips remained immobile.
I mean it. He caressed her wrists with his thumbs. Your hands are to remain in this exact position.
Her sensuous, bow-shaped lips twisted in mutiny. I would touch.
Your touch incites my lust, angel.
Is that wrong? She paused, looking at him with an unfathomable expression. Between a husband and wife?
If it is the wifes first time to hold him within her body, it is dangerous. I would not hurt you.
I know you will not. Again a pause as if she searched for words. At least not more than necessary. Some pain is inevitable.
He wished he could deny it, but she spoke truth. Nevertheless, there was a difference between carefully breaking her maidenhead and rutting on her like a beast. Which he was in danger of doing if he did not maintain control. Obey me, he repeated.
What will you do if I do not?
He could not believe his shy wife had the temerity to ask that question. He glared down at her, his passion making him more ferocious. I will assure compliance.
She licked her lips, her eyes dilating with increased arousal, but she did not reply.
There was no need. Her reaction was as clear as his favorite loch. His angel liked the idea!
Without thought, he stretched her hands above her head and grasped both small wrists together with his left hand. His wolf howled in approval while Abigail gasped and then moaned, her eyelids dropping to half-mast.
He spent no time wondering why they should both enjoy him mastering her in this way so much. He was a warrior, not a philosopher. He knew only that the delicate bones of her wrists felt all too right in the grasp of his hand.