Page 69 of The Wolf in My Tavern

He glances over his shoulder. “Unless you want me to lock you in the hold, whelp, you will shut the fuck up.”

The sudden silence is broken only by ragged breathing.

Callum is not hurt; he is here, and somehow, although he is bound, his presence soothes me.

But I am also aware of Gray’s intentions, and my stomach takes a slow dip as familiar heat pools low in my belly. I lift my chin to stare up into Gray’s eyes. They flash with a brilliant blue light, reminding me, once again, of the otherworldly power that lives within him.

The air crackles, and Gray flashes between forms. His clothes fall into a heap on the floor, and he’s naked.

I gasp.

A rumble emanates from his chest. He picks me up and drops me face down on the mattress in the bedding nook. My heart rate takes off at a gallop, and my traitorous pussy clenches with unmistakable interest, reveling in the ease with which he masters me.

He is behind me now, looming, yet in my mind’s eye, I see the line of his serious face and the savage, animalistic beauty of his body as it was in beast form in the tavern. The compulsion I have felt since first meeting him is still front and center. My core throbs with need, like it has been primed for him by his closeness throughout the night.

Despite Gray’s orders for Callum to be quiet, a growl is issued from the other side of the room.

Gray holds me a prisoner in ways more than my current state of captivity. Yet, it is not fear that grips me; it is more outrage at what he has done and what he plans to do.

I am at his mercy.

But he is not a real monster, not like the one I lived with all my life, and I want to believe he can be reasoned with, despite my being naked on a bed. Before I can coach myself to focus on the important task of reasoning with the big shifter, his words of yesterday slam into my mind. “…even though your cunt is juicing with need. Rest assured; my wolf can scent your arousal. Let there be no pretense between us.”

His big hands are on me, enclosing the tops of my thighs. Slowly, he pushes them apart, opening me up. His low purr is steeped with approval for what he can scent and see. Fresh arousal, sharp and insistent, hits me anew.

“Please, Gray,” I push through gritted teeth, as my pussy weeps with interest that my mind seeks to deny. “Let Callum go. You don’t want to do this.”

“Don’t mention that whelp’s name.” His fingers tighten on my thighs, squeezing with enough bite to bring a whimper to my lips. “I was set to walk away. Even though it fucking killed me to do so. But you followed, didn’t you, Ada? The Goddess herself thrust you into my path. Now, you are mine. Pretty wenches who follow shifters get rutted in ways their whelp lovers can’t begin to imagine.”

Ice floods my veins… then heat sweeps through in its wake as something passes underneath me. A rope? I struggle in earnest.

It doesn’t help me.

It didn’t help me last night when he brought me here like a war prize tossed over his shoulder.

“Please!”

“Sweet Ada.” He pauses to draw gentle fingers through my hair, and how my body craves that touch even as my mind tries to keep hold of the importance of what is at stake. “You think I don’t know what you need? I could smell your arousal every time you came to the table. You think I didn’t know it was for me?” His laugh has a low, husky quality, and, Goddess help me, my body sparks in anticipation of his deviant plans.

He pulls my hands behind my back. My attempts to fight don’t trouble him—the man is built like a warrior.

Only he isn’t a man—he is a wolf and a beast.

“It was neither stew nor Tim’s company that drove me to take lodgings at The Green Man. If my wolf hadn’t been obsessed with claiming you, I’d have taken a room elsewhere.” The rope loops around me, opening my thighs, binding my ankles to my wrists—opening and spreading me for whatever he might want to do. And all the while, my chest heaves with the strain of fighting him, impossible as that is.

“I must be honest in this moment, for everything is about to change.” He pauses his rope work and leans down to growl low, for my ears only. “It is not only my wolf that was obsessed. The man and beast are very much aligned.”

When he was at the tavern, he barely spoke to me other than to place an order. Except for that last night, when he saved me, and then ravished me, and set my mind adrift.

“We are not in The Green Man anymore, wench,” he says, reminding me of my present situation and that this isn’t gentle banter in a civilized setting surrounded by others.

I’m on a ship, far from safety and help.

Why did I follow him?

Why would I do something so stupid?

“Who is she?” I demand.

---