Tall, Dark and Wolfish (28 page)

bit, but not the lust that crowded his mind.

His hands moved to her bodice and began to quickly untie her laces.

"Now, Ben?" she laughed. "I'm barely in the door!"

"You're in far enough," he growled.

The red around the corners of his vision should have warned him that he was too far gone. It should have told him that he wasn't himself. It should have

told him that he was out of control. But he was too far gone to pay it any heed.

He met a stubborn knot in the laces that held her dress closed and lowered his teeth to it. He bit cleanly through the material with one bite.

"Oh, Ben!" Elspeth cried. "Doona ruin my dress!" Her fingers rose to finish the job he'd started. He batted them away before he simply tore the gown in

two. The sound of rendered material hung in the air.

Ben stopped and closed his eyes tightly.

"Are ye al right, Ben?" Her soft hand touched his face. He turned his head and nipped her palm. He closed his eyes tightly.

"I'm al right," he said slowly. Was he?

Ben cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers. He took her mouth with much more force than he'd ever taken another. But she merely met his tongue

without complaint. Inside, the beast in him rejoiced.

He drew her bottom lip between his teeth and nipped it.

"Ow!" she cried, raising a hand to her mouth.

"I'm sorry," he immediately confessed, a twinge of guilt making him wince. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Slow down a bit, wil ye?" she smiled. "I think I need ta catch up."

Slow down? He would sooner chop off a limb. If he didn't have her soon, he would explode. Her dress lay in a heap at her feet while she stood before

him in her chemise and drawers. He removed them quickly and efficiently before he lifted her in his arms and walked to the bedroom.

He tossed her into the middle of the bed and climbed atop her. With a quick flip of his thumb, he released himself from his trousers and pressed against

her.

"Ben?" She stopped him.

Did she say something? He'd ask her to repeat it later. He was very close to completion. He was close to taking her. He was close to being inside her.

He growled as he bent his head and pul ed her nipple into his mouth.

"Easy, Ben!" she gasped. "That's a bit rough."

He eased his grasp on her and took her hips in his palms, tipping them so he could slide his ful length into her at once.

"Ouch!" she cried from beneath him. She wiggled her body until she slid from beneath him, where she could rest against the headboard, her legs drawn

up to her chest, clutching them tightly.

"I want you," he growled as he reached for her.

"Oh, ye remember I'm in the room now, do ye?" she spit at him before she scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up. Light suffused the room. "Look

at me," she commanded, her biting tone pul ing him from his single-minded objective.

He ran his gaze from her disheveled fiery hair to her breasts, which wore red marks from his rough kisses. He clearly saw the outline of his hands on her

hips. Thank God she didn't have bruises.

"What have I done?" he asked as he stood up and raked a frantic hand through his hair.

"It's al right, Ben," she said, her finger trailing down his forearm. "I want ye ta make love ta me. Ye just need ta slow down a bit."

"It's too close to the moon," he snapped. "I can't be in control this close to the moon."

"Ye can, Ben," she encouraged him.

He'd come close to bruising her beautiful flesh, and she stil wanted him.

He wasn't nearly good enough for her. Ben buttoned his trousers and turned from her. His voice quavered as he said, "I have to go."

"No!" She walked toward him. He backed up until he tripped over the settee. He crashed to the floor in a disoriented lump. She approached. He couldn't

let her touch him. He wasn't deserving.

He scrambled to his feet and rushed toward the door. "Ben," she said. "Doona go."

"I have to," he said as he opened the door and ran out into the night. He ran until he could run no longer, until the air burned his lungs. Until his muscles

pleaded for him to cease. Yet he couldn't get far enough away from her. If he could do one thing, he could protect Elspeth from what might hurt her. And

today that danger was him.

Thirty-four

Elspeth stared at her tattered dress and underclothes lying on the floor. What had come over him? She'd never seen him behave in such a way.
We also

become more carnal.
Ben's words from days ago echoed in her ears. How could a man such as him become
more carnal
? She hadn't quite believed

him until now.

But he was right. He'd not frightened her, but it was almost as though he couldn't hear her words, as though he wasn't in control of himself. She wasn't

sure what to make of it, as the memory of the encounter flashed again in her mind. She didn't even recognize this Ben. He reminded her of a wild animal

…

Which, of course, he was.

Elspeth's gaze shot to the door he'd flown through. Ben had looked so devastated when he escaped her. That look of pain was just as disconcerting as

her own panic. Perhaps if she'd had some notice, been prepared for what he wanted—no, what he
needed
—things would have ended differently.

Her husband had needed something from her, and she hadn't been able to give it to him. Guilt mixed with fear and encompassed her, Caitrin's warning

stil fresh in her mind. Ben would hurt her, she'd said, but she hadn't mentioned that Elspeth would hurt him in return.

She had to find him, make sure he was al right. With a frown she retrieved a serviceable dress from her armoire and threw it over her head. Why did he

have to run off like that? Why couldn't he explain to her what had happened, what he needed from her?

She wrapped the Campbel plaid tightly around her and ran out of the cottage just as the sun was setting and casting a deep crimson across the

horizon. "Ben!" she cal ed, not certain at al which direction he'd gone. How would she ever find him?

Elspeth wandered deep into the woods, cal ing for him until she couldn't yel any longer. Her throat hurt, and she col apsed beside a boulder, exhausted,

with tears streaming down her face.

Where was he? Couldn't he hear her? The man had better hearing than anyone else on earth. Then a horrible thought entered her mind. What if he could

hear her, but he stil wouldn't come? Her heart constricted and ached.

"Ben!" she cal ed again, straining her voice beyond reason. She looked at her wrist. He could ignore her voice, but could he ignore her touch? With a

shaking finger she touched her mark, hoping he could feel how much she loved him.

Ben winced when he felt her stroke across him. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? Couldn't she tel he wasn't fit company? He wasn't fit for her?

He pressed deeper into the darkened forest. He would walk al the way to Glasgow if he had to. How far would he have to get from her before he

wouldn't feel her touch anymore?

One after another of Simon's old lectures echoed in his mind.
It's too dangerous to be with a woman from the time the moon is nearly full until it starts

to wane. You're reckless, Benjamin. You take too many chances. One of these days you'll go too far.

He'd been reckless, al right, with the one person he was supposed to protect, the one person he'd never wanted to hurt in any way.

He spied a shaft of moonlight in a clearing and looked up into the sky. Hating who he was and what he'd become, he cursed the moon, now nearly ful ,

for the power it had over him.

Ben growled fiercely, until the growl became a scream. He screamed at the moonlit sky until his voice ceased to work. Then he turned and walked back

slowly toward Edinburgh. He had no idea how far he'd traveled. But it was far enough that it might take him days to return if he simply walked.

He couldn't go back to her, even though he stil felt her tender strokes against his skin. Even though he stil felt her touch as she obviously touched her

mark, cal ing to him. He wasn't good for her. It wasn't safe.

The anger and lust no longer raged in his blood. It no longer cal ed to him, and he felt much as he did before he'd sought out Elspeth. He felt empty. He

felt less than whole.

Instead of returning to her cottage, he went to the property outside Edinburgh that he'd just bought. There was an old crofter's cabin that seemed

reasonably sound. He would go there and wait for the moon to pass him by. Then he'd go back to her and fulfil his obligation.

He passed the rest of the night and day in solitude. When the moon hung high in the sky, he went to a nearby clearing. There, he removed his clothes

and stepped from the shadows into the moonlight. He lifted his arms to the sky and felt… nothing. He felt nothing at al . No madness. No shifting. Nothing.

He'd lost his ability to be a Lycan. Feeling nearly dead inside, he walked slowly toward the crofter's cottage, where he remained for six ful days.

As the days passed, he hoped the pining for her would gradual y decrease. Yet she stil cal ed to him, and he imagined her stroking slowly across her

mark. It was time to go to her. When he crossed over to her land, he walked casual y, knowing he was no longer the person he'd once been. And he just

hoped she would accept him as he was.

He knocked softly on her door. Her tiny feet padded across the floor and the heavy wooden door swung inward. There she was. His wife. She held her

arms out to him, and he could do nothing more than clutch her to him.

He was shocked that she went to him so easily, but she did. She melted against him and fit into him like she'd been made to be there. Perhaps she

was.

She stepped back, took his hand in hers, and pul ed him into the cottage as tears pooled in her eyes.

"I—" he started.

She placed a finger to his lips and whispered, "Shhhh…"

"I need to—" he began again. She stopped his words by standing on tiptoe and pressing her lips to his.

He gathered her tenderly in his arms and carried her to the wil ow bed, where he slowly removed her clothes. She smiled softly as he pul ed her nightrail

over her head and the wolf combs clattered to the floor.

He bent and picked them up, but she tossed them to a nearby table as though they were nothing. "My wolf," she sighed. "So lost." Her hand stroked the

beard stubble on his face.

"Please, help me," he whispered softly, his eyes meeting hers.

"I promise." She kissed him tenderly and unbuttoned his shirt, pul ing it from his shoulders. She moved to his trousers and asked quietly, "Did ye miss

me?"

"Like a piece of myself was missing," he said as he kissed a slow trail across her bare shoulder.

When she'd ful y undressed him, he laid her back on the bed and rose above her. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He proceeded to kiss her softly al over. He

kissed her until the scent of her desire reached his nose, and then he settled between her thighs.

"I ken that ye werena yerself, Ben."

"Then who was I?" he asked, looking down into her green eyes.

Who was he? He was her love. He was her life. He was her mate. She had no doubt in her mind that he was the other half to her whole.

"Ye're my wolf," she said as she reached up and brushed the hair from his forehead.

"I'm not," he protested, shaking his head.

"Ye
are
," she repeated, catching his head in her hands. He kept his eyes tightly shut. "Ben," she prodded. "Look at me."

He opened his eyes, but didn't meet her gaze.

"I love ye," she admitted. His eyes immediately caught hers. The intensity in his gaze nearly scared her.

"How could you?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged and laughed. "I doona ken. I just do."

"I am not worthy of your love," he said quietly as his hardness prodded her flesh. She arched to meet him. As he slid into her he said, "But I need you so