Читать книгу Animal Lust - Lacy Danes - Страница 9

The warmth of smooth silk surrounded her, and a pleasant aroma tickled her nose. Mmmm. She inhaled again.

Cinnamon.

Her mother’s baking. She loved her pastries. Jane’s stomach rumbled, and she lazily stretched, scooting her bum to roll on her side.

Firm pressure compressed her into the mattress, not allowing her further motions. What? She strained again as her eyes fluttered open to darkness. She was not home. This was not her bed.

She pulled, and her muscles strained as her gaze shot around the darkness. Her eyes gaped as she sighted the vague outline of the door. The white painted wood stood, unlatched and open into the room. Her heart rapidly sped. Jerking her body, she frantically strained. She couldn’t move. Her muscles shook. Yet nothing restrained her. Another dream; this was just another dream. She squeezed her lids shut.

Sniff, sniff, sniff. Warm air tickled her stomach.

Sweet mother, that was real. Her eyes shot open. Still, she saw nothing. The bedclothes lay flat, but beneath the covers her shift slid up her torso to her breasts. What…“Stop! Don’t touch me!”

She squirmed. Warm silk touched the peak of her nipple, and her lungs locked.

“Please!” Panic gripped her, and her body turned clammy. This is what happens when you willingly participate in the act outside of marriage. You go mad with nightmares and dreams of carnal desire. She squeezed her lids shut, and warm, moist air puffed up her neck to her ear.

“I said there would be no denying me.”

The smell of cinnamon grew stronger, and her whole body trembled.

“What do you want from me?” She strained and pulled to move but couldn’t.

Silence met her.

“Why can’t I see you? Is this a dream?”

Still nothing. Chills raced her skin; she squirmed and strained her muscles. Warm smoothness dragged down her stomach, and her body trembled in the touch’s wake. Heat flooded her core.

“I will not harm you,” the male voice cooed softly, reassuring her. “To whom did you give your gift?” The warm cloth dragged up to her breasts and circled her nipples.

“Oh, God….” Her breasts grew heavy, and she groaned. Why…how…Oh, why did her body respond to this bizarre touch? “That is no concern of yours.” This had to be a dream—a pleasant yet strange dream.

“Ah, but if this is a dream, what does it matter?”

“I—I guess that is true,” she said tentatively. “But if this is a dream, why would you say such?”

A low rumble of a laugh shook her body as smooth wetness pressed to her neck, kissing her racing heartbeat. “You are beautiful. Your eyes…I have never seen such a shade.”

Her body grew warm at the comment. “Thank you. They are my mother’s.”

He grunted as his lip reconnected with the skin at the base of her throat. Shivers of pleasure pulsed across her skin. What did it matter if she told him of her folly? This surely was a dream.

“I gave my innocence to the tavern owner in Sudhamly.”

The pressure holding her tightened, and the air grew thick. A low gruntal growl pressed to her throat, and a tongue licked her neck from base to ear.

A burst of warm air caressed her earlobe. “You are very brave.” His tongue swirled into the curve. “What did he give you in return?”

Her body shook, and she pulled her head away from the invasion. “I—I don’t understand. The only thing he gave me was his seed and an aching heart.”

A deep, angry hiss slid down her spine, and her body quaked.

“You love each other?” His voice sounded strangled.

“I—I thought so…but he did not.” Her chest tightened as she said the words aloud. A true statement, and she needed to face that fact.

“He should have returned your gift. It is required to give something in return, especially when one gives her innocence.”

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t understand. What do you speak of? Who are you?”

The warm cloth circling her nipples vanished, and his mouth sealed upon her breast in a vise. Pain shot through the tissue into her breast, and her body arched off the mattress. He nibbled, and the ache swirled to intense pleasure, tingling down her belly to the flesh between her legs.

“Oh, God, what…what are you doing?” Her lips trembled as his tongue swirled the nipple.

He growled.

“I will give you the gift your mate stole from you.”

“The gift?”

His warm breath slid down her belly, and a puff of steam touched the curls at that apex of her thighs.

Oh, my stars! This dream was exactly what she had envisioned would happen on this bed when she first glimpsed the monstrosity. The warmth of velvet brushed her thighs, and she bit the inside of her lip. After parting her legs farther, the spongy slickness of muscled tongue slid along the slit of her sex, and her womb clenched.

Virgin’s blood, echoed in her mind. Seed that does not belong. The warmth pressed into her womb, and her body arched once more off the mattress.

Yes, enjoy the gift he denied you.

The tongue swirled the crevice, licking and sucking, as if he tried to remove every last ounce of the evidence from her folly. Oh, if she could only remove the memory from her mind!

Her heart pounded in her chest, and teeth grazed the flesh of the opening to her womb. Intense pleasure spiraled through the muscles of her legs, tightening them. Her toes curled, and her womb contracted, spending juice from her core. “Oh…oh!”

His tongue traveled across her scored flesh and lapped the honey that now flowed freely from her. Fierce sensation shot, arching her hips off the mattress. She rubbed her curls against the large head and wide shoulders she now felt pressed between her legs and bore down on his tongue. Oh, there truly resided a man between her legs!

Blissful tingling grasped every nerve of her body. Her fist clenched tight; blinding light flashed as every muscle in her body thrashed in wave upon wave. She screamed and then shook, her legs bucking to the touch of his tongue. He licked her clean from anus to curls as her muscles jumped and pulled away from the too intense caress.

“What…what was that?” Her gaze focused on the figure of an extremely large man who, without a doubt, knelt between her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, she’d gone daft!

“Your pleasure. For allowing a boar to mount you.”

“Pardon? The gift,” she whispered and squeezed her legs together about his thighs. Indeed, he was there.

“Yes.” His large hands gripped her thighs and gently squeezed.

A howl pierced the air from down the hall. She started, and a swirl of air washed across her. The warmth of silk and body heat gradually faded, and the faint smell of cinnamon clung in the air.

She trembled and pulled the covers up close to her body. Was this a dream? She reached down and slid her finger into the slick flesh of her sex. It surely was.

Raising her hand to her nose, the smell of cinnamon clung stronger than her scent. How strange and too odd to think about. Her gaze shot to the closed door to the hall. In the faint light she counted eight thrown bolts. Exhaustion fluttered her eyelids shut, and she drifted into a strange and blissful sleep.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

“Ma’am. Ma’am.”

Jane woke with a start. Scrambling her body to the upright position, she stared at the door. She scrutinized the line of eight securely latched locks and then pinched the bridge of her nose. It had all been a dream.

“Ma’am, I have your laundered garments.”

“One moment.” She pushed off the bed and headed for the door. Sliding each latch open, she turned the knob. Surely a dream.

“Pardon, ma’am.” A hand thrust through the opening; it was holding her dark gray wool dress, stockings, petticoat, and corset. She clutched them. “Thank you.” Then she peeked her head through the crack in the door.

“Lord Tremarctos has been informed of your stay with us and wishes you to take breakfast with the family.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I will send Jerome up in a quarter of an hour to escort you to the hall.”

“Very well.” She shut the door and bolted the locks. All she wanted to do was depart and straighten out this whole day with Jonathan, but she would like to see the house in daylight. Leaving an hour later would not change the situation one whit. She frowned.

Turning back toward the bed, she gasped. Across the chair she had sat in the night before, a stunning pale green muslin dress lay. The color exactly matched her eyes. “Where did that come from?”

She raised her hand to touch the smooth, expensive fabric and noticed her hand wavering. She clenched her fingers into a fist. He had said he loved her eyes. It had been a dream, right? She turned away from the temptation and studied the room. No one could have gotten in. There was one door, and the window…

She rushed to the drapes and pulled them back. Rain came down steadily beyond the panes of clear glass, but the bolt remained latched. Certainly the dress had been there last night. How strange she had not noticed the garment. Then again, her mind had swum in other issues last night.

She glanced at the bed; the color of the linens shone a deep crimson in the daylight. The carvings entwining the posts depicted beautifully detailed bears.

Her fingers glided along the carved figure of one bear. Smooth and cool, the bear stood on its hind legs and fought with paws and mouth the next bear carved into the richly hued wood.

She bit her lip as her fingers stilled on the interlocking paws and mouth. Her stomach fluttered, and her other hand spread across the taut surface. How odd! Surely her stomach rumbled because of hunger. She needed to dress and feed her rumbling middle.

She gazed at the gray wool draped over her arm and then glanced longingly at the fine muslin stretched across the back of the chair. How silly to long for a piece of clothing. She had never owned such a fine-looking garment. Yet that dress pulled at her.

She wanted to put on the garment, to feel the slip of the fine fabric down her body. Would it be as smooth and as warm as the touch of her lover? She gasped and turned away from the dress. Nonsense, just nonsense.

“Bruno, are you sure she remained bolted in when you asked her to come to me this morning?” Lord Tremarctos shifted, agitated in his seat behind his desk.

“Yes, your grace. I heard the bolts slide. There is no way she could have faked it.”

Very interesting. His brows lowered, and the corner of his lip curved up in concentration. His boars were all on edge this sunrise. The disquiet surely came from the smell of a woman inside the walls of Tremarctos.

“Still, none of this sits well. Does it, Bruno?”

“No, your grace.”

With the torrential rain, she would not leave until the ill weather ceased. “Make sure all my boars are at breakfast. I don’t want one of them coming across her without the knowledge that she is our guest. Or for her to be caught off guard by one of us.” If we are all in the same room, the situation will arise without much prodding. Then he could decide what needed to be done.

“Yes, your grace. I will rouse them.”

Lord Tremarctos stared after Bruno as he shut the door to his study. His fist clenched, breaking his quill in half. Please let the knife in his gut be for sane reasons, not for the dread that came to him in his sleep last night. Oscar. His teeth clenched. No…they all would surely want to fuck her. Even if she was not a mate, the smell of innocence shed pulled at even him. Let his unease be only that. His fist hit the desk with a loud thud.

Ursus…please stay dormant—he squeezed his eyes shut—and let his sons choose a mate without the turmoil that had stayed with him for a lifetime.