The Lady in the Mist (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) (12 page)

She sniffed rubbing a hand under her nose.  “Why because you’re a Rebel soldier or a half-breed?”

“Most places I go, the sentiment is the same.”  He shook his head.  “You deserve better.  You have to understand I’ve been alone for so long, the pain doesn’t concern me anymore.  But you have your whole life ahead of you.  You deserve better than the existence you’d have with me.”  He gathered her closer until he could feel her blood beneath her skin.  “You have no idea how badly I want you.  It’s as if a piece of me dies each time I look at you and know I can’t be the man for you.”

“Why do you say I have my whole life ahead of me?  You don’t know me, Ty.  I’m not the beautiful, pristine woman you take me for.”

His hands ached to reach out sinking his fingers into her long mane.  She’d used his given name for the first time.  His soul ached for her as he stood there in her bedroom with the air fairly burning around them.  He had found his mate.  All the years of loneliness ebbed away.  The pain of being an outcast dissolved in her hold.  The desire to know this woman intimately spiraled out of control.  Shoved at the confines of reality, he hacked out a small piece of bliss right there in her arms.

Burying his head in the curls at her neck, Ty gave in to the need to put his hunger into words.  “Christ, Sonja.  Never say you aren’t perfect, lovely and all the things a woman should be.  You’re wonderful.”  He leaned back to look in her tawny eyes.  The heat in them could melt all his troubles away, Ty mused.  Tapping a fist on his chest he furrowed his brow.  “I’m to blame, I can’t help myself.  I shouldn’t even be asking this, but I want you so bad.  Let me lie with you, if only for the night.”  Ty grazed her nape with his teeth, the sensation running through him. She tasted of honeysuckle.

Sonja reached up running her fingers into the length of his hair.  The soft moan pouring from her lips felt like bourbon’s heat sliding down his throat.  He wanted to taste her because she tasted sweeter than any confection he’d ever known.  He wanted desperately to hold her because she was the world, his world and he wanted to love because he couldn’t help himself.

Her voice went soft and throaty.  “Lie with me.”  Her tawny eyes had turned the color of warm liquor over rocks.  She traced the edge of his face with her fingertip.  Lie with me and leave the world with all its pain behind for just a little while.  Together we can make it go away.”  Letting her fingertips glide through the hair on his forehead, she waited.

Ty’s mouth opened to object out of sheer instinct, but the old hag’s words surfaced in his head once more and in cadence with his desire, the witch said, “Choose carefully, my boy.  Choose carefully.”

Thankful for quick reflexes, Ty’s reasoning shifted and he lowered his head, capturing her mouth to taste the sweetness only this woman processed.  The flavor of her was intoxicating and Ty forced the words of the old woman and the danger of his decision to the back of his mind as he ran his tongue along her teeth. A purely primal groan left his throat as Ty sank into the fire.

Sonja urgent response had him molding her body to his.  In a fevered rush, Ty worked at the intricate buttons of her dress.  She in turn showered his face with kisses all the while murmuring low inane words in his ear as she ran her hands under his shirt and up the hard expanse of his chest.  Her fingers ignited tiny flames of lust.  The need grew with each taste of her.  Her scent swam in his senses, all sultry, all woman.  He let go with the force of her passion letting her lead the way with her nails, her tongue, her teeth, which nipped at his shoulder, his neck, his lips.

When he ran his hands down her the length of her bare back, he was sure she was made of satin.  Ty closed his eyes on the feeling of her exquisite flesh under his hand.  “Are you a dream?” he murmured close to her ear.

“No, Lieutenant, no dream.  I’m flesh and blood born to love you and be loved by you.”

Moments passed.  In the fog of his own need, Ty missed the fact that she struggled with her clothing. “Help me, Ty.”

Caught off guard, Ty raised his head to note how she fought with the last of her buttons on the dress she wore.  She looked damned beautiful standing there in the dim light of the room fighting with something as small and intricate as buttons.  The feeling swamped him as he reached out stilling her hands.  Her breasts strained against the thin cotton of her slip.  Two perfectly damp circles appeared on her slip that matched the imprint of his mouth on her nipples.  His shaft flinched in response to the sight.  Needing to a taste, he went down again to the deep cleft between her breasts.  Sonja cried out in frustration.  Sure that she would become angry, maybe even lose the mood, he stilled her fingers. 

“Here,” he deftly undid the rest of her dress before undoing his pants to step free.  The scar along his thigh, still tender, stretched taught.  He had a moment’s hesitation wondering how his stamina would react to such a wound.  Maybe because of the fact there’d been so much time since he’d been with a woman, he doubted his control.  Ty swore low as his shaft jumped when she touched him.  Blood surged through his body like a fire through dry tender.  He dropped his head back and reveled in the sensation.  “Ah, Sonja.”  No woman had ever made him feel like she did.

Sonja’s hands awakened nerve endings with their soft caress.  Her tentative hands gliding down his abdominal muscles to the band of taught flesh above the crisp hair surrounding his shaft almost undid him.  Her expression filled with anticipation as she touched his heat and he throbbed in her fist.  With the warm glow of passion in her eyes, Sonja took his hand in her own before leading him to the bed.

Ty followed her silently to the edge of the bed before running his hands down the length of her back to where the dress hung precariously from her hips.  With one push, he sent the homespun dress falling to the floor in a pool of cotton and aged lace.  Taking his big hands, he molded her to him, skin against skin, and heat against heat.  She fit perfectly, the hard plains of his body sinking into the soft flesh of hers.  His fingers traced the lines of her delicate, womanly shape before seeking out her mound, where the soft curls covered her sensuous region.  Her pubic hair resembled cornflowers, all gold and gentled twisted by the wind.  She let out a moan that left her lips parted in a seductive circle.  She burned with the need for him.  He planned to fill that need very soon, but first he had a duty.  She whispered his name and the sound of it on her tongue undulated over him like a warm breath.  Hovering over her, he allowed his hand to explore the tender folds of her erotic flesh.  The woman in his arms moved in slow silky thrusts with his touch.  Her need built to a fevered pitch.  The wet and eager woman pressed his cock into her mound.  She called to him.

“Tyler, please…”  Taking his hands in hers, she laid them over her breasts.  He massaged the tender flesh, using his thumb to bring her nipple to an exquisite point of attention.  With her head limp on his shoulder, he sucked the precious mound until she gasped tightening her hold as her hips moved in time with his mouth.  Sonja leaned back on the bed.  With one slender hand she reached for him.  “Now!”

Ty scooped her up before depositing her under him in one smooth move.  Their eyes met as he ran his fingers down the length of her body from neck to thigh.  No woman had ever stirred him like Sonja.  The sound she made deep within told him she had embraced the primal side of her being.  Rich and ripe, her invitation begged him to follow.  With a low growl at the pulse in her neck, he fell atop her.  His shaft, hard and impatient to claim her as his own, jerked with the need roaring inside him.  She picked up his rhythm immediately dancing to the notes he played.  With his hips between her legs, Ty never took his eyes off her as he rubbed against her most sensitive spot.  He waited and her eyes came open searching for the reason he’d not penetrated her yet.  “Yes, love, I’m here and I want you to keep your eyes on me.  I want you to know you’re mine.  No one will ever separate us.  Understand?”  Her voice, hoarse with desire and impatient with craving peered into his face.  Her passion-filled eyes spoke louder than words as he drove himself into her, plunging deep and feeling her fist around him.  She bowed with the sensation.  “Yes, Ty, oh yes!”

Driven by some inner privation, Ty sank deeper into the heat as the nymph turned sorceress writhed under him.  Her moans gave way to growls as ancient as their mating.  The hunger for the pleasure grew in them both as wave after wave of the storm bombarded them.  Urged on by the craving, Sonja dug her nails into his back.  Ty tasted blood in his mouth as teeth bit and tongues searched for sucker.  His world spiraled upward, further and further to a fever pitch, the likes of which he’d never experienced.  Pain became sweet pleasure, while ache became longing as this woman matched his lusty thrusts with a furor of her own until their appetite brought them to the pinnacle of the storm.  His world exploded into thousands of tiny lights as she screamed his name to the four winds.  Then he spilled his seed into her.

***

When the quiet crept into their den, Sonja laid peacefully in Ty’s arms.  A kind of awe settled over them both.  Speaking only in low whispers mingled among soft sighs of contentment and bliss, the two shared their newfound love until they drifted on that sweetest of clouds into slumber.  Watching the satisfied pleasure stream across her features, Ty marveled at the satisfaction he experienced with her.  Sonja held him captive and he wouldn’t know peace without her.  He vowed he would do whatever he had to do to keep her by his side forever.  With the vow, he drifted downward to be cradled in this woman’s arms.

***

Sonja woke with a start.  Her gasp came out short.  The sheet clung to her clammy body but she didn’t acknowledge either.  Blinking back tears, she wiped at her cheeks.  It was the dream— that had brought her to the brink of despair.  Ty slept beside her, a man well sated.  A tender smile trembled across her mouth as she leaned over.  The dark strains of hair covering his eyes made her wish for a different time, a different place for this to happen to them. She brushed Ty’s hair from his eyes.  The chiseled planes of his face stood out in stark relief against the white of the pillow.  How perfect he was.  With her arms wrapped about herself, Sonja pondered this man the fates had sent her.  The pleasure of watching him sleep took some of the pain of the dream from her.  She didn’t want to think about him leaving, though he surely must go.  The pain would be too much to bear, she mused.  She wanted him like her next breath.  What would she do?  Surely, things wouldn’t turn out as bad as she’d envisioned.  With the potion, she would get him to sleep.  Hopefully, with some luck they’d both make it through her becoming a werewolf.

Still the day had turned dreary, cold and she huddled under the wedding quilt to warm herself.  Soon she must secure herself under chains and locks for the night of the fullest moon.  Sonja’s blood heated when the image of the full moon came to mind.  Shaking the feeling back as she slipped from the bed and made her way to the porch, she waited for the dregs of the dream to evaporate.  The horrid thing had been so real!  She tried to rationalize what she remembered.  In this dream, she’d been a pure white wolf with a thick silver collar of fur encircling her neck.  The enemy lurked in the shadows.  The creatures wouldn’t come out of the darkness provided by the thick undergrowth of the forest floor.  Snarling along with a terrific stench filled the air as she stood her ground.  Her clan stood at her back, their paws scratching the earth with howls of expectation from eager, seasoned warriors anxious for battle.  Had she been new to the game, she might have rushed the attack, which would have brought the enemy down upon their heads.  Being a vampire killer, experienced and skilled in battle, she understood patience would win the day.  The day’s assortment of tasks included killing the remainder of a pesky insurgent group of renegade vampires with a blood lust.  She’d hunted them down and destroyed their lair, so the poor devils were laid bare and unprotected from the sun of a warm summer day.

Sonja rubbed at the headache brewing behind her eyes as she strained to bring the dream more closely into focus.  Though practiced at defeating their enemy, this day seemed different.  The white wolf glanced from left to right, meeting the eye of her companions with a steely gaze.  Had she actually leaped into the air and told those animals at her back to leave none standing?  In her mind’s eye, Sonja could see the wolf as she crouched for attack, whispering something in Gallic to those nearest her position.  Instantly, fire erupted all around her.  She witnessed her friends go up in flames, agonizing and horrible.  Sonja brought her hand up and bit down hard on her knuckle.  What had happened?  The dream kept returning.  She shook her head for a moment hoping to dismiss the disturbing picture, because she could still hear the screams as well as the howls of members of her own pack dying before her eyes.

With a shiver, Sonja rubbed one bare foot over the other.  Blinking, she gazed at her front porch.  She stood barefoot on the cold planks in the frost of a spring morning, not alongside wolves in a glade ready to do battle with vampires.  The cold seeped in under her nightgown.  She turned to take the wood back in and ran head long into Ty.