Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

There was no reason for him to worry. Simon would never harm her. He'd sever his own arm first. "Damn you for giving him those books!"

Will shrugged. "There's a lot of information in them that he should know."

"But not about the claiming, you fool." Simon hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "That's what's wrong with him. He thinks I'll devour her on sight."

Just the thought of claiming Lily made his blood run hot. He watched her as she talked with his mother. She lifted a spoon to her mouth, and her full, pink lips slid off the end of it. He wished it was him. That her lips were on him at that moment.

"I'll talk to Oliver again," Will sighed.

"I'll never be able to claim Lily, so you can assure the boy she's safe."

Will's eyes narrowed. "

Never

claim her?"

"Oh, I'll have her. But never when the moon is full. Never when I might be out of control. Never when there's a chance I could hurt her." Simon fought a bit of melancholy at the thought of it. But then the spoon slid from between her lips again. She smiled at him.

Simon had to adjust his trousers. One more look from her, and he would cross the room, pick her up, and carry her upstairs. Then she pressed her fingertips against her lips, kissed them, and blew a soft kiss to him. He was immediately lost.

Twenty-Six

Lily had no idea what made her do that, what made her blow a kiss to him from across the table. But he looked so serious as he sat there with Will. His forehead was marred by lines of worry, and his body was tense, his movements terse and choppy.

She simply wanted to soothe him. But what she didn't expect was for him to slide his chair back with a scrape against the hardwood floors, the noise of which was loud enough to make every head turn. He strode quickly across the room and stopped at her side.

"Lily," he said softly, as though something pained him. He took her hand in his and pulled her to her feet. And before she knew it, he'd scooped her up and was striding out of the breakfast room.

"Simon, put me down," she squealed as he started up the steps, taking them two at a time. "This is highly improper."

"Then I get to be your improper husband, and you'll just have to be my improper wife, won't you?" He smiled wolfishly at her, his eyebrows wagging at his own joke.

He strode through the door of his bedchamber, and she expected him to place her on her feet. But he didn't. He unceremoniously tossed her into the middle of the bed, where she hit so hard that she bounced.

"Simon!" she shrieked a she reached out to steady herself. But he was lost in his chores. He closed the curtains, nearly drenching the room in total darkness. Then he turned and lit a candle, which cast soft shadows about the room.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat down and began to remove his boots.

"What are you doing, Simon?" she asked.

He finally turned toward her. "I have every intention of making love to my wife," he said slowly, his eyes dancing from the top of her head to the soles of her slippers. "Unless you have an objection?"

"None," she squeaked, cringing when she heard the sound of her own voice. "None," she repeated with more conviction. "But you'll have to show me what to do. Because I fear I may be really bad at it." She swallowed hard.

"Not possible," he breathed, before his lips claimed hers.

His touch didn't start out rough, but it certainly wasn't soft. His lips slid across hers, pressing hard enough to steal the air from her lungs. His hands stole into her hair, pulling the pins out one by one until her auburn locks fell freely about her shoulders.

His fingers threaded into the hair around her temples as he consumed her. She tried to pull back, but he growled against her lips and held her tighter. She whimpered when his teeth nipped her lip a bit too hard.

***

The sound of her whimper brought Simon back to his senses. For a moment, he'd allowed his basic instincts to take control. But Lily was an innocent. He pressed his forehead into hers and drew in great gulps of air.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

Her only answer was her hand sliding across his jaw to cup his face and bring his lips back to hers. Tentatively, she kissed him, testing his control. Her eyes were wide open, staring into his own.

He pressed softly back against her, his tongue sliding between her lips to caress hers. This time she moaned. He must be doing better.

Simon sat back and said, "I think you have entirely too many clothes on, Your Grace." He picked up her foot and slid her slipper off, the tips of his fingers dancing across the sensitive skin of the bottom of her foot. She giggled.

He couldn't help but smile. Laughter wasn't the sound he'd hoped for when he thought about bringing her to bed, but it beat the fear that had escaped her moments before. He repeated the motion with her other foot. She tried to tug her leg from his grasp. He held firm.

"No pulling away," he reminded her.

She simply nodded, a smile hovering around her lips.

Simon walked up the bed on his hands and knees until he was behind her. His hands moved to unlace her dress. As he exposed her shoulder, he replaced the fabric with his mouth. Her freckles were illuminated by the candlelight, and he planned to kiss each and every one before the day and night were over. He smiled against her skin, his fingers still working at her laces.

"What's funny?" she asked quietly, reaching back to touch his hair.

"Nothing," he murmured. "I'm just happy."

"Really?"

"You doubt it?" he asked as he moved in front of her. She clutched her sagging gown to her chest.

"I know you didn't

want

to marry me, but I'll try to make you happy."

"You already do," he said as he pushed her back to lie on the bed. She gasped as he pulled her hands from her bodice and tugged to expose her breasts. "So beautiful," he murmured, his gaze traveling over her flesh. To have her breasts exposed tested his control. But he reined the beast back, determined not to scare her, no matter how aroused he was.

His erection strained against his trousers, aching to be free. But not yet. Not until she was ready.

Simon tugged her gown down over her hips. Lily lifted to help him pull it from her body. The ribbon that tied her undergarments hissed as he tugged the knot free, allowing him to pull them from her in one swoop.

Lily moved to cover her breasts, her face coloring under his gaze. But he captured her hands, laced his fingers with hers, and pressed them to the bed beside her head as he leaned over her, sliding one knee between her thighs. She instinctually adjusted to make room for him.

"Mine," he growled as he took a hard peak into his mouth. Lily gasped beneath him, arching to meet his mouth. Her hands moved under his, her fingers opening and closing, as he toyed with her, his tongue flicking out to tease the turgid flesh of her nipple.

Her heart beat heavily beneath him, thumping faster and louder as he moved from breast to breast.

Her fingers opened and closed again. "Let me touch you, Simon," she said softly, her voice catching as his mouth lifted from her nipple with a pop.

His hands released hers, and she immediately brought them to his shirtfront to loosen his cravat and then to unbutton the tiny buttons at his throat. Her delicate little hands tugged frantically at his shirt, yanking it from his trousers. She wasn't happy until they were flesh to flesh, man to woman, beast to beauty. Only then did she sigh with contentment.

This was how he wanted her always. Her face flushed with heat. Her body warm and pliant beneath him. Simon adjusted his body so he could remove his pants and then settled himself, entirely naked, in the cradle of her thighs.

"Please," she whispered.