Page 23 of Wolf's Redemption

Godfrey.

Seated on his horse and fully armed, the chevalier rode through the village, his yellow surcoat bright in the morning sun.

The stench of the tanning solutions had worked against him and had concealed Godfrey’s approach. Ulrik ducked back behind the hut, dragging Rebekah with him. He held her against the wall with his body, his hand over her mouth, lest she scream or make a fuss. She squirmed, pulling at his hand. Her sumptuous curves rubbed against him, and turned his cock hard in an instant.

Lord, she would test the vows of a saint.

He groaned. She struggled harder, and the friction stole away his breath, his concentration and his control. His hold on her mouth loosened, and she ripped her face from his grasp, drew in a deep breath and opened her mouth wide.

Ulrik was no saint.

He took her mouth in his and swallowed her scream. With the wall at her back, she had no room to retreat as he tasted her, taking what he had wanted from the moment she hadfirst appeared before him in Lothair’s wretched underground chamber.

She fought him, and his blood soared. She pounded her fists on his chest. Ineffective against his strength, they were a powerful blow to his conscience.

What the fuck am I doing?

He released his hold on her and stepped back, her chest heaving and fury blazing in her eyes. And yet, her back arched, pushing those beautiful breasts toward him. She wanted him. He smirked and cocked an eyebrow. She drew back her arm and slapped him across his face.

Ulrik gaped at her. She had slapped him. Hard. He held his hand to his stinging cheek.L’enfer.He did not like it. Not at all. But he had deserved it. His gut roiled and his cheek burned. He had promised her he would not touch her unless she asked, and he had forsaken his vow so quickly and so easily.Merde.His parents had raised him to be a better man. He would not sully their memory, no matter how much Rebekah tempted him.

He took another step back, reining in his prowling wolf, ignoring its demands to pounce, to take and to mate. Her dilated pupils tracked him. Oh, she wanted him. Her scent did not lie. She did notwantto want him, but she did.

A strangled moan escaped her throat and she reached for him. She grasped the edges of his torn tunic, dragged his face down to hers and planted her lips on his. Ulrik’s eyes widened, but he needed no second invitation. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in tight and ground against her. She quivered, a slight softening of her body, and he knew he had her. He licked the seam of her lips. She opened for him and he plunged his tongue into her mouth. She greeted him with a swipe of her own.

Yes.

Ulrik slipped his hand beneath his surcoat, settling it on her ribcage, a bare hair’s breadth from her lush breast.Mon Dieu,helonged to cup her in his hand. He deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue with his.

Burning pain shot through his tongue, and he ripped his mouth from hers.

“Merde!What did you—”

She hauled her arm back and slapped him. He gaped at her. She had burned his tongue then she had hit him. Again.

“L’enfer,woman. Why did you—?”

“The first slap was for kissing me without my permission.”

He glared at her, then gave her a reluctant nod. “I will accept that. I deserved it. But why did you hit me again?”

“The second one was for making mewantto kiss you.”

Triumph surged through him, and despite his stinging cheek and burning tongue, he smiled. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him. He rubbed his cheek, his tongue tingling as it healed. A blister on his tongue he could withstand. Other parts of his anatomy… He winced, and his cock shriveled. Was it possible she had jewelry in her ears, noseandtongue? He grimaced at the idea. Whatever had burned him like the silver shackles had his wrists and throat, he would need to identify and remove. But hewouldkiss her again, were she to ask, no matter how painful.

Her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving and her lips moist and plump from his kiss, she was a delight. All fire and passion ripe for the plucking. Rebekahwouldcome to him willingly, and it would be all the more sweet for the wait.

He raked his gaze over her. “You tempt me so, Rebekah. I make no apologies for that. But I am not in the habit of taking what is not given freely. When you are ready,petite cracheuse de feu.I can wait.”

Chapter Eleven

Bek glared at Ulrik. As apologies went, it wasn’t much of one. Nor was it an admission of guilt, but he had stepped back, and he wasn’t forcing himself on her despite the lust swirling in his dark whiskey eyes. And he hadn’t reciprocated in kind when she’d slapped him. At least that was something in his favor. That and,damn it, the man could kiss. She could still taste him on her tongue, feel the pressure of those lips on hers. Bek bit back a groan. She’d always been a sucker for a good kisser. It figured a Frenchman would know his way around a French kiss.

But what had made him stop? Had he caught himself on her tongue ring? Whatever it was, Bek was grateful for it. She closed her eyes, blocking out the vision of his drool-worthy chest and the evidence of his arousal straining in his trousers. Who knows how far she’d have let him go had he not pulled away.

All the damn way.Yep. That’s what she was afraid of.

Ulrik’s hand on her elbow had her eyes popping open.

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