Enchanted By The Wolf. Michele Hauf
tugged off his vest and shirt and tossed it to the floor, his back to her. Bea could see that the wolf was raring to go. And would you look at those muscles? They bulged and rippled and formed a vast, solid surface. She felt sure she’d not seen the like, ever, in Faery. And she had dated more than her share of sidhe in all shapes, sizes and even colors. This wolf? He was, by the blessed Norns, beautiful.
She dashed her tongue along her lower lip. If she had to do this, she may as well try to enjoy it. Take one for the team, right? Let the big, handsome wolf put his hands all over her naked body? She’d force herself if she had to.
As his fingers drew down the zipper of his leather pants, he turned. “So how do you want to do this?”
“Down and dirty.” Bea shed a thin strap from her shoulder. “Get ’er done.” Because if not now, she’d lose her bravery and fly for safety.
“I agree. Quicker is easier.”
Flicking off a strap from her shoulder, her wedding dress dropped to a puddle at her feet. And the wolf’s eyes dropped to her breasts. They were small but high and perky. She was well made for aerodynamic flight.
Kir exhaled and averted his gaze to the side. Was he getting all shy on her? Or perhaps a gentleman hid behind the steely muscles and bite-worthy abs? Aw. Sweet.
But Bea couldn’t get behind forced niceties after that wince she had seen him make during the ceremony. It was her eyes. They freaked him. The dude did not like her. And if the werewolf knew what her other half was? He’d go running with his tail between his legs.
Now all she had to do tonight was keep her dark half subdued. Fingers crossed.
“Pants off,” she said, turning toward the bed and patting the mattress. “We’ll get into the swing of things, then you can shift, and we’ll seal the deal.”
Kir chuckled. “Is your definition of foreplay the swing of things?”
“Yep. You got a problem with that, big boy?”
He narrowed his gaze on her. “Are you always so cold?”
“Nope. But how many times have you been required to have sex with someone you’ve known only minutes? And with a witness not a leap away whose heavy breathing I can hear!” she said loudly.
The heavy breaths were instantly muffled. Bea rolled her eyes.
Kir smirked at the obvious disaster that had become their lives. “Right. Sorry. This is tough for us both. I just want you to know...”
He hooked his hands at the waistband of his leather pants and stared off toward the ceiling. Above, tiny sprites hovered, but Bea didn’t mind. They were always around in Faery. She was quite sure she’d never had sex with a man completely alone. But sprites didn’t tell tales. Unless you pissed them off.
“What I want you to know,” he started, “is that despite the surprise of only learning about this two days ago, I’m going to give this my all. This marriage. I never do anything half-cocked.”
Bea laughed and averted her eyes to the opened fly on his leather pants. “Half-cocked?”
“It’s an expression. And even though I don’t know you, any woman deserves my best.”
“Honorable words. Have you been practicing that speech all day?”
“No, it’s— Hey, take me or leave me. I drew the short stick. Now I intend to do the best with the situation.”
“The short stick?” Bea crossed her arms over her breasts, feeling not at all embarrassed by her nudity, but oh, so curious at the wolf’s comment. “What in mossy misery does that mean?”
“The short stick? You know. When there’s a less-than-desirable task to be done, someone breaks a bunch of sticks and holds them in his hand, with their length concealed in his fist. Whoever draws the shortest stick is the loser.”
“I see. So I’m your short stick?”
He shrugged and offered a wincing nod.
“Peachy.” She swallowed back the scream that vied for release. She’d only hoped he would be nice. Not cruel like her father. Foolish of her to wish for so much.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have explained that to you,” he said, rubbing a palm against the side of his head. “Do you want a drink? I brought in a bottle of wine.”
“No, I’m cool. And I think you have imbibed far too much already.”
“Mead,” he said with a drunken grin.
“Yeah, from the little I’ve seen at the reception, you mortal realmers can’t handle your mead. Let’s get this done with so the witness can go to bed, and I’m really tired, so...”
“Yeah, me, too. So it’s just business between us? Doing this for the home teams?”
Bea smirked. Some home team she was on. “I’m not even on the team. When teams pick sides, I’m always the one left standing.”
He cast her a curious raise of brow. “I‘ve had that same thought. Huh.”
“Right. For the team,” she agreed with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, which was zero.
The werewolf strode closer, and Bea climbed up onto the bed but didn’t take her eyes from his, which swept over her body appreciatively. Was the wolf actually hungry for her? Good. That would make this go quicker. She could do this. She didn’t have to feel anything for him; she just had to go through the motions. Seal the deal. Worry about the whole happily-ever-after crap in the morning.
He slid a hand below her breast and leaned down to lick her nipple. Bea sucked in a breath as that contact flamed over her skin and tickled her into an appreciative wiggle. Wow. Most men would have started with a kiss and worked lower, but she had no arguments about this mode of attack. Business, and all that. The wolf was already at the getting in the getting-’er-done part.
Stones, but he really knew how to stir her system to alert, all nerves fired and ready to receive. He moved to her other breast and laved her tight nipple, then he chuckled.
Chuckled?
“What the heck?” Bea asked. “Why am I so funny to you?”
“You’re not.” He shook his head, then nipped her skin quickly before giving her another deep chuckle. “I’m just...nervous. This is—”
“Weird?” She raked her fingers through his soft hair but enjoyed the sensation so much she abruptly pulled back. “Uncomfortable? So wrong it’s almost right?”
“Yeah. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m hot for your body, Beatrice. It’s just, we’re doing this backward. Normally a couple gets to know one another before really getting to know one another like this.”
“Like we have a choice?”
He followed her gaze to the alcove by the door. The feet were now crossed at the ankle. “I guess not.”
“I’m nervous, too.” She stroked his cheek. His beard was soft, and she tickled her fingers along it. He nuzzled his face into her palm like a cat seeking strokes. Except he wasn’t a cat. And she was as cool with this moment as she could get. She’d love to take the time to run her fingers over his skin and map out his muscles, but... “The longer we put on a show for you-know-who, the freakier it gets.”
“I agree. I’m hard as a rock. Ready to go. But I want you to be ready.”
“That’s thoughtful. But don’t worry about me. You are some kind of sexy. Just looking at you gets me hot. I’ve been ready for a while now. So come inside me, husband. Let’s seal this deal.”
She lay back against the pillows, sitting half-upright, and beckoned him closer. Kir slipped off the leather pants and his erection slapped up against his stomach. Bea sucked in her lower