Page 67 of Wolf Heir
Coinneach hurried off with Aisling, neither wanting to alert the whole castle as to what they were up to. The pack members would know soon enough.
“The herb garden?” Some of the tall shrubs and herbs would provide sufficient shelter from prying eyes. The problem with wolves was that they could see in the dark, so they needed some privacy.
Coinneach led her to the castle doors. “What about the spicery pantry? I have no’ been there, but you must have.”
“Aye, perfect. No one will be in the kitchen or storage areas at this time of night.” She led him inside and took him straight to the pantry. In the kitchen, a lantern was still burning, and she grabbed it.
No one was about, like she suspected, and they slipped into the pantry unnoticed. She pulled the door shut, wishing they could lock it from the inside. She put the lantern down, far enough away from where they set the blankets that they wouldn’t knock it over in the throes of passionate lovemaking.
The faint light cast a majestic glow on the vaulted ceiling and shelves of spices—including ginger, cloves, peppercorns, dill,mustard, caraway, ginger, and even a large amount of saffron. All were in boxes to preserve them, scenting the air with a mixture of spicy aroma. Containers of cooking oils sat on the bottom shelves.
He laid the blankets on the floor, spreading them out to make a comfortable pallet for them. The notion of making love here was both arousing and daring.
Then he removed his sword and laid it down next to the makeshift bed, ready to protect them if someone came after them again. She knelt, nestling her bow and quiver of arrows at her side of the blankets—just as ready to protect them—and then turned to him.
The lantern’s flame behind them flickered in the updraft, and the rising heat drew sweet, sharp scents from the air.
“Hmm, it smells heavenly in here,” she whispered, her hands on his shoulders, her tongue licking his neck.
“The spices in here and the fragrance of heather collected on our clothes and hair, aye.” He took hold of her shoulders and ran his hands over them in a loving caress and kissed her forehead.
“And us,” she corrected, her voice growing huskier as she pressed her palm to the center of his chest, where his heart fluttered like a snared bird.
She took hold of his face and pulled him down, their mouths colliding, biting, joining as the need to speak was overtaken by the need to taste. He kissed her again, with the force of someone making a declaration that could not be unsaid or misunderstood.
They wanted this; they needed this—a mating, a joining of two wolves in love. She broke free first, breathless, laughing softly as she removed her kirtle, baring skin already dappled by the chill in the air.
He caught her hand, splaying her fingers wide, and bent to kiss each knuckle, the gesture oddly reverent. “You arethe bravest person I have ever known,” he murmured, words muffled as his lips traveled the length of her arm.
“You are too.” She unfastened his belt and dropped it on the floor with a soft clatter.
He ran his hands over her breasts under the translucent shift. Her nipples tingled with intense pleasure, and she moaned with delight. He kissed her breasts while she pulled off his plaid, wanting to mate before something else stopped them.
Once his plaid was on the floor in a puddle of fabric, she pulled up his shirt, the lower part tenting his desire for her.
Before she could lift his shirt all the way, he was pulling her shift over her head and tossing it on his plaid. She quickly pulled off his long shirt before he thwarted her again.
“Hmm.” She nuzzled his chest with her mouth. “You smell of pine forest and the river.”
“You smell of the same, the wilderness, and the tall meadow grasses filled with heather.”
She ran her finger from his throat to the thatch of dark hair around his fully aroused manhood. He trembled, collected her hair in his hands, gently stroked it, and pressed his lips to hers. She licked his lips and plunged her tongue into his mouth. He quickly stroked her tongue with his as she ran her hands over his naked, muscled back.
Her body responded completely to his measured touches, her nipples hyperaware, the area between her thighs wet and eager for his penetration.
He swept her up in his arms and laid her reverently on the blanket, then joined her, his body pressed against hers. She opened her legs for him, allowing him to fall between them, warming them with their close contact.
He rubbed his erection between her legs, the friction of his manhood against her womanhood sending delicious chills up her body, the sensation both amazing and delightful.
She arched against him, wanting him inside of her now, but he wrapped her legs around his hips and continued to rub against her in such an unbelievable way, she felt she was going to burst into flames.
Their hearts were beating like crazy, their musky sex adding to the earthy tones they were already enveloped in. Their breaths came quickly as they relished the intimacy between them.
Then he was surging into her and filling her with his love. Suddenly, he pulled most of the way out and began to stroke her, where she nearly shattered at his touch. Goddess, she’d never experienced such a wonderment. She cried out and clapped her hand over her mouth. He chuckled, kissed her mouth, and thrust into her again.
He didn’t stop this time until he came and she felt his seed in her, drenching her, making her wonder if he had produced a bairn in her.
“I love you, sweeting.” He dragged the extra blanket over them. They merged then, limbs and intentions tangled, the world beyond the door unimportant. All that mattered was that they were mated wolves and she wanted desperately to share the news with the pack, but not here, not like this!
