A wolf and a thimble
*Julia*
As I watch Nick pack up our picnic, I can no longer deny the strength of my feelings for him. I almost laugh aloud watching him strive for a look of innocence that barely passes muster while he removes his jacket. I’m fairly certain the neck cloth and waistcoat are going to join it in the pile quickly enough. A few loosened buttons, the rolling up of his shirtsleeves to expose those corded forearms, and he would have my mouth watering.
I’m not averse to being taken on a blanket in a field by a pond on another day. On this one, I need something different.
He offers his arm, and I wind mine around it. Strange how he makes me feel small and delicate. He’s regained the weight he lost during his illness. He is out riding every day, assisting tenants where he can. He thrives in the outdoors. I wonder if he will ever be truly content serving as Alpha of the pack, or if a time will come when wanderlust takes hold again.
“Do you have any plans to travel?” I ask as the wide front steps of the manor come into view.
“Not presently. Is there somewhere you would like to go? I will book passage wherever you want, whenever you want.”
“I’ve always found the idea of being on the sea rather daunting. To look out and see nothing stretching into forever.” I’ve seen it from the shore. I can’t imagine being in the center of it.
“Ah, but then you sight land after days or weeks of travel, and the joy of it can almost make a man weep.”
“I shall take your word for it.”
“You have no desire to travel?” He asks.
I shake my head, “Not while Noa is so small.”
“We could take her with us.”
I laugh. How like a man. “Have you no idea what all is required to travel with an infant? Even our journey to Blackrock city will require extra planning and room for her things.”
“We can purchase whatever she needs when we get to Blackrock city.” He says.
“She will require things along the way. And you like to go to remote, unpopulated places. How will you provide for her there?” I ask.
He grins. “I can be most resourceful.”
I don’t doubt it. To be honest, I would like to be with him somewhere far away beneath the stars where we would not be subjected to pack Society’s censures. No matter what choice I make, it comes with a cost. The gossips are not prone to listening to reason, to making allowances, to understanding circumstances that warrant unprecedented actions.
Inside the residence, we walk the familiar hallways until we reach what had once been my favorite room. Now I’m torn between the nursery, his library, and the billiards room. I enjoy each one with equal measure.
Still, this room and what I do within it brings me peace. I lead him to a table where an assortment of drawings are scattered. The one I want is on the bottom, hidden away. Bringing it out, I set it on top. “A new character for the stories.”
“A wolf in a linen shirt, knee britches, and boots. And you’ve given him a rapier. That’ll please Johnny.” He grins.
Mrs. Lark and her children have settled in at Evermore. From time to time Nick takes the lad for a ride. I suspect he weaves his tales for him then.
“I suppose it will. What do you think of the new addition to our menagerie?” I ask.
He looks thoughtful, “People don’t generally like wolves. They’re wily. I take it he’s another villain.”
“No, he’s on par with the steed. He’s noble, protective. Strong. The others look up to him.” I says.
“I’ll work him into the next story.”
I smile. “You don’t recognize who he is?”
He shakes his head, clearly baffled, and I don’t know why his reaction causes me to love him all the more. “Yet you saw yourself so easily in the weasel.”
“That’s supposed to represent me?” He asks.
“Not supposed to. It does.” I tell him.
He brings his gaze to bear on me, and I see the torment and doubt woven there. “Julia, I am not noble.”
“Yes, you are.” I place my hand against his jaw. “Protective.” I slide my fingers up until they can toy with the hair at his temple. “Strong. I was wrong. You’re not the weasel. You were never the weasel. That was just a facade. You are a good and honorable man.” I step forward until my breasts flatten against his chest, taking delight in his sharp intake of breath, the darkening of his eyes. “If the only way that I can have you is to live a lie, then I choose to live a lie.”
“Julia.” He tugs me in closer, locks his arms around me, and presses a kiss to my neck, my cheek, my temple.
I hold him tightly. I’ve struggled with this decision, but I know it’s the right one, the only one. I want him in my bed, want to give him children, want to be his wife.
Leaning back, he takes my face between his hands, burns his gaze into mine. “I, Nick Alpha of Greyfur, promise to love, honor, and cherish you as long as we both shall live. I shall be as good a mate as a man can be.”
“I, Julia, Luna of Greyfur, promise to love, honor, and cherish you as long as we both shall live. I shall be as good a mate as a she-wolf can be.”
Reaching down, he takes my left hand and places his fingers on the ring. “May I?”
Swallowing hard, I nod. He gently pulls off my ring and sets it in the palm of his hand. “I could purchase you a new ring, but I know how much love this one represents. I don’t want to take that away from you. I want to add to it. So if you have no objections…” He slides the ring back onto my finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
Tears burn my eyes at his unselfishness, his willingness to let me honor what I had once had. “I love you, Nick.”
His mouth comes down on mine with such passion, such power, such urgency, that I might have stumbled backward if his arms hadn’t clamped around me at the same time. His tongue slides like velvet over mine, stirring everything I feel in my heart for him until it whirls through my body. My limbs go weak, I go weak. Yet I don’t know if I’ve ever felt stronger.
We have been teasing each other for weeks now. It’s only natural that my awareness would be heightened, and yet I feel as though he has struck a match to the kindling of my desires.
Quite suddenly, he sweeps me into his arms and begins striding from the room. “I want you on a bed,” he growls low, as though he’s providing a message to himself as well as me.
With a laugh, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, bury my face in the curve of his neck, and begin to press kisses there, tasting the saltiness of his skin. I want him with an unyielding fierceness that terrifies and excites me. He makes me feel alive, no longer numb.
When we arrive at my bedchamber, it’s much as it had been before… with clothes being removed in a mad rush, abandoned to the floor. Only it’s different. He’s a different man, a man I’ve never been with completely, and yet I feel none of the awkwardness, none of the doubt that had characterized my wedding night. Perhaps because I’m no longer an innocent. Perhaps because I’ve been with him as intimately as one could be without being joined.
When he shucks his trousers, I reach out and touch the scar at his hip. He freezes. “You didn’t get this in the dark lands, did you?”
“No. The eastern isles. Some years back.”
There’s still so much to learn about him, but so much that I already know. Stepping forward, I press my body to his, stroking my hands over his broad shoulders down his sinewy arms. How is it that I believed only four months in the dark lands would sculpt a man into such perfection? This has taken years of trekking through rugged terrain, climbing mountains, hoisting gear. He’s a man who will spend as little time sitting behind a desk as he can. He will take me rowing on the river, riding in the Park, galloping over the hills. He will help tenants manage their livestock, their fields. He will nurse a widow and her son back to health.
He will brave cold weather to bring me strawberry tarts.
“I love you, Nick,” I repeat, knowing I will never tire of saying it, could never say it enough.
His eyes slam closed, his head drops back. When he opens them, I see enough love to humble me. He marches me backward until my knees hit the bed. With his mouth latched onto mine, his arms holding me close, he tumbles us back onto the mattress. His roughened hands journey over me, eliciting sensations wherever they touch.
He shifts, nestled between my legs. Raised up on his arms, he hovers, looking deeply into my eyes. “Say something naughty.”
The scalding heat of embarrassment rushes through my entire body. “You were never supposed to hear those things.”
“And yet I did and they inflamed me.” He leans down, takes my mouth, releases it. “I told you that you never have to pretend with me.”
Christmas Eve. By then he knew my tawdry secret. I turn my head to the side.
“Look at me when you say it. See how much I love it.”
I run my fingers into his hair, hold his head in place, lick my lips. “I want your cock inside me.”
Growling low, feral, he thrusts his hips forward, plunging deep, stretching me, filling me. He never takes his eyes from mine. “I love how hot and wet you are, the way you close around me.”
Laughing, I pull him down, open my mouth to him until our tongues follow the same ancient ritual as our bodies. Being with him is liberating. I feel no need to hold anything back, to keep any secrets. He accepts me wholly. I scrape my fingers up his back. He groans low, increases the rhythm of his thrusts.
“Look at me when you say it. See how much I love it.”
I run my fingers into his hair, hold his head in place, lick my lips. “I want your cock inside me.”
Growling low, feral, he thrusts his hips forward, plunging deep, stretching me, filling me. He never takes his eyes from mine. “I love how hot and wet you are, the way you close around me.”
Laughing, I pull him down, open my mouth to him until our tongues follow the same ancient ritual as our bodies. Being with him is liberating. I feel no need to hold anything back, to keep any secrets. He accepts me wholly. I scrape my fingers up his back. He groans low, increases the rhythm of his thrusts.
Sensations swirl through me, leaving no part of me untouched, unloved. He’s giving me everything of himself, allowing me to do the same. I’ve experienced our connection during our kiss in the garden, and it had terrified me. Now it only emboldens me.
I can touch him however I want, say whatever I want. No holding back for fear of censure. No withdrawing for fear of judgment.
With him, I can be myself completely and absolutely.
I am myself completely and absolutely. I am more than myself as the world falls away. I am myself with him, with this man who accepts me openly, naughtiness and all. Who makes me his own.
Crying out his name, I tumble through the void where pleasure dominates. I fall fast and hard, my body arching, clutching him close as he bucks against me, my name a growl forced through his clenched teeth.
We land together, a tangle of glistening, sweating bodies, our breaths coming in short gasps.
Rolling off me, he brings me in against his side, holding me close with one arm, while his hand trails up and down my arm. We lie in silence for long moments, simply catching our breath, basking in the glow of lingering pleasure.
“Did you think of him?” he asks quietly.
I trail my fingers across his chest. “No.”
“Not even a little?”
Rising up on my elbow, I look down on him. “What are you really asking?”
“When you look at me, do you see him?” He asks.
“I see only you, Nick. I have for weeks now. I know the two of you looked alike, but I can see little mannerisms in you that I never noticed before, that he didn’t have. I love him.”
He squeezes his eyes shut. “I know that. I shouldn’t have even brought him up.”
I place a finger over his lips. “Open those lovely blue eyes of yours.” When he does, I say, “I love him and I love you. The love I felt for Noah is different than the love I feel for you. It’s not more or less. It’s not better or worse. It’s simply different. I can’t put it to words. You said if I loved you a thimbleful as much as I loved him, it would be enough. I love you so much more than a thimbleful. I can’t compare or contrast what I feel for either of you. Now and then of course I think of him, but not during moments like this. You’ve been with other women. Did you think of them?”
“Of course not.”
“Then there you are.”
The corners of his mouth hitched up. “None of them said naughty things.”
“I bet you know a whole host of words and phrases to teach me.”
“I’ll teach you anything you like.”
“I was afraid he wouldn’t enjoy it, that he would dislike me for it, that’s why I only whispered it in his bad ear. You know me better than he did, and I fear that wasn’t fair to him.”
“He loved you, Julia. He loved what he had with you. Don’t second… guess any of it now. That you and I have something different doesn’t make it better or worse. As you said, it just makes it different.”
I’m glad I have something with him that I haven’t had before. “I think I love you three thimbleful.”
He laughs. “Let’s see if I can get it up to four.”
Rolling me over, he enthusiastically throws himself into the challenge.