Page 51 of Their Witch Bride

When I slip out of their sight, I feel my shoulders sag, and the rhythm of my heart sounds too loud. Okay, so I’ll be spending the night with Princess Tara, the beautiful witch. I can handle that. Can’t I?

Except, she’s going to expect me to be ready and willing. Prepared to fuck her all night long, probably. If I don’t make a move, will she? The idea makes my cock harden. I imagine her begging me on her knees for just a little taste of my dick, and me insisting that she can’t have it.

Although… a little dick tasting should be okay, right? As long as my mighty python stays out of her pussy, I’ve fulfilled my part of the agreement. Maybe?

Or maybe I could touch her a little. Maybe after days on the road of us not touching her, she’ll be wet and ready for me. I can trail a hand under her dress and touch her slowly. Gently. At first. And then, maybe, I can make her orgasm. Make her come screaming my name.

I reach her door and realize that I’m fully standing at attention. Reaching down, I shift my cock, then think of Drogo. The fucker’s ugly mug is what I use any time I have to calm Little Rinan down, and like usual, it works. The last thing I want to do when going to a woman’s room to not fuck her is to come in all sprung and horny.

Even if I’m still a little horny.

Reaching up, I knock softly on the door.

After a minute, I hear her say, “Come in.”

Hesitating, I take another deep breath, then open the door, not sure what to expect.

Tara’s standing by the edge of her bed, her cheeks flushed as her gaze meets mine. She’s wearing a silky white nightgown that comes to her creamy thighs. The nightgown appears to be sheer, but fortunately, or unfortunately for me, she wears an open robe over it, concealing most of her flesh.

I’m hard again. She looks so damn pure and innocent in white, like I imagine a bride on her wedding night. I never knew that idea would turn me on, but it does.

But that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to offer protection, to make our people believe that I’m doing my duties as a husband, and to sleep. That’s the directive.

“Hello.”

I take a step closer, and her scent hits me… lilies, sweet and sensual. My wolf perks up inside of me, and I feel a strange sensation move through me. My fucking wolf loves the way this woman smells, he responds to her like a cat purring. It’s almost embarrassing.

Get control of yourself, I command my wolf, but he doesn’t. He paces inside of me as I breathe her scent in and try not to picture those creamy legs of hers wrapped around me while I thrust deeply inside of her.

Tonight is the perfect opportunity to give in to what my wolf and I both want: her. She’s expecting it as any bride would when faced with her new husband. Maybe even wanting it. But I can't. I gave my word to the two men I consider my brothers, so I fucking can't.

“Did you, uh, need something?” she asks, and her scent comes again: lilies, but also fear, and arousal.

I bite down on the groan that builds in the back of my throat and focus on the hint of fear. I don’t want her to be afraid. I need to shift the blood from my dick to my brain and actually speak.

“I’m sleeping in here tonight, if you’re okay with that,” I say, taking another slow breath in, taking in her scent again as my dick continues to suffocate in my pants, yearning to spring free and have some fun.

Damn horny bastard.

“Um,” she begins with a shaky voice as she closes her robe and tightens the belt. “If that’s what you want to do.”

I clear my throat. “Yeah, the job of the husband and all that.”

“Job, right.”

She awkwardly takes off her robe, and my mouth goes dry as I stare at the incredible curves of her body. The nightgown isn’t perfectly see-through, but enough to see the sharp points of her nipples and the dark space between her thighs.

My eyes are glued to her as she walks to the side of the bed furthest from the door, climbs in, and pulls the covers up all the way to her chin. It’s like she thinks the covers will keep me away from her, which is cute. A laugh catches at the back of my throat, but I swallow it down. Instead, I take off my shoes, then all my clothes save for my boxers, and climb into the bed next to her.

We lay in silence for a few moments before she turns to me and just stares at me. Those big brown eyes of hers are even bigger than usual. Her full lips are parted like she has something she wants to say, but she doesn’t say anything. I don't know what to do. She's only making this whole thing harder.

Finally, she says, “I've never done this before.” Her eyes are wide and the scent of fear grows more intense. During our travels, we all slept separately from her, just close enough to keep an eye on her. Is that what she means? She doesn’t want to sleep near me?

I feel like my brain isn’t working while lying beside this intoxicating woman, breathing in her sensual scent, mixed with the scent of fear, which doesn’t seem to make sense. Why is she afraid? How the hell am I supposed to lay beside someone this beautiful and not touch them?

“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice coming out husky.

Fucking hell.

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