Page 41 of The Wolf in My Tavern

Seeing a cloud pass over his face, I frown. “What is it?”

“I don’t have much to give you,” he says. He goes to pull out, but I wrap around him tighter, holding him there, not bearing the thought of separation even as we talk.

I shake my head. Fresh tears prick the back of my eyes as fresh emotions swamp me with a sense of inadequacy.

“I am an apprentice,” he says. “I don’t even have my own home.”

“That doesn’t matter to me,” I say earnestly. “I have come from nothing. Your heart is a gift.” I smile lightly. “Your wicked tongue is a delightful bonus… I am already smitten with your cock… You are hard-working and a hero in my eyes. Besides, I have nothing to offer you in return save my love.”

The clouds hanging over him fade before a look of wonder takes their place. His lips lower, and we share a kiss, this one sweet, joyful and full of hope.

Hearing approaching footsteps and voices, I bury my nose against his throat, biting back a giggle that threatens to bubble up.

“Best we get you back to the tavern,” he says with a rueful grin, and then, despite my resistance, he pulls out… or tries to. Something is stuck.

“Oh?” It feels really nice, if a little alarming when he tries to move. Instinctively, I wrap my legs tighter around him.

He frowns and glances down between us. “My cock has a mind of his fucking own.”

I nip my lower lip. Now is not a laughing time. Also, my pussy is fluttering again, and I think I might come. “Don’t leave me yet.” I nip his throat.

He groans, and I feel another hot flood fill me.

He rocks his hips slowly, prolonging the pleasure, making my pussy spark and spasm until I feel like I might lose my mind.

Voices are once more closing in. This time, I am alert enough to feel the shame of our compromised position.

“Gods!” he mutters gruffly, and clamping his hands on my hips, he pulls. There is a stretched moment of resistance, and then his cock pops out, leaving a sticky trail and an empty feeling I don’t like one bit.

I huff and glare at him as I clamp my hand over my pussy, which is still tingling and missing his cock.

The voices and footsteps move on.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t want any bastard to come in. I don’t know what I was thinking, taking you like that… and on the floor. Are you alright, lass… Is your pussy sore… Do you need me to check?”

He captures my wrist and tries to pull my hand away like he really is intent on checking my condition there.

His face is flushed a deep red. I am sure mine looks the same.

“No, thank you,” I say. “The only matter of discomfort is the lack of cock filling me how I need.”

He swipes his hand down his face and groans. “Gods, lass, you are killing me here. I definitely think I should have a quick check. You might need my mouth there to ease any soreness.”

My pussy clenches savagely with interest, even as I ward him off lest I never get off this floor. At least my wits have returned… along with the arrival of pain in various parts of me that have been scraped against the filthy floor.

“I am fine and do not need to be checked!”

“Okay then.” He looks uncertain, but he gently sets my clothing to rights and helps me up. Then he sits me on the bench and reaches for his pants.

My eyes, despite my determination not to, land straight on his cock.

I swallow. Was that…?

His pants whisper over his hips, snatching it from my view.

I turn away, blinking, thinking about what Betsy said to me about alphas, about how they have glands on their cock, a knot…

If I’m not mistaken, Callum, who I always thought was a beta, has just knotted me.

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