Page 50 of The Wolf in My Tavern

His purr dips to a rattling growl, one that makes my pussy slick. The world around me is moving fast and slow. There is not enough air in my lungs… I feel like I am drowning on land. I feel claws shredding my panties, exposing me.

I court madness under the passage of rough wolf tongue. Clothing is torn or ripped away. My boots are lying on the tavern floor. His ruined clothing is long gone, revealing a hot, bright pink cock that thrusts from within a furred sheath. Pinning me securely against the wall, he feasts upon my slick folds, getting right up inside me. Goddess, it feels like he is fucking me with his tongue, taking me near as deeply as Callum did with his cock…

Callum. Somehow, thinking of him seeing me like his, ravished by Gray’s beast, sends me spiraling perilously close to a climax. I clamp my hand over my mouth to keep my pleasure sounds inside. Almost like he senses my resistance, his tongue lavishes my swollen clit.

Gods! It sends me tumbling into bliss, my body twitching and spasming as I come for Gray.

My fingers sink into the fur at the side of his wolf’s head, holding him closer as I moan out in bliss, claiming his gift.

His rumbles soften, and he takes one final lick before slowly easing away, lapping my juices from around his mouth as he rises until his head is once more level with mine.

“What a delicious little treat,” he rumbles.

My hand cups his furry cheek, and a smile finds my lips even as I blush to the roots of my hair. “Can I touch you?” My eyes lower to where his cock, hard and angry-looking, weeps clear pre-cum.

“No.” He steps back, leaving me cold and bereft.

My smile falters. Like waking from a dream, the reality of my actions hits me like a douse of cold water.

My pussy still throbs, but now it is with guilty pleasure as I reach out a hand, almost touching him, before I pull back.

“Go to your room, Ada.” He turns his back on me.

I stare after him, wounded by his sharp tone.

He has a mate. I already have a lover, one I shall wed in two days. What have I done?

A sob tears from my throat as I snatch up my boots and the puddle of stockings I have no recollection of having removed. I bolt up the stairs to my room, slam the door, and fall upon the bed and sob.

My last image is of him crouching, a beast still, with his back to me.

Chapter Nineteen

Gray

After the events that unfolded last evening, it is little wonder I do not sleep a wink. I should be worrying about the ship coming in. Instead, I’m thinking about a pretty wench who works in the tavern and who will soon be wedded to another man.

Not a man, I amend, but a shifter who carries royal blood.

Won’t that be a fucking surprise?

That is not my problem. I have made it not my problem, and now I will walk away. My life was already complex, yet I feel a little dead inside today.

I have a task to do. It is the reason I am in this godforsaken city at all. Today will see the culmination of our long travels, many fruitless searches, and dashed hopes.

Maybe it will be another empty promise.

I do not think so. Some gut instinct tells me that they are really on this ship.

I hope that they are. I hope we can liberate them and, by doing so, lift this great burden from my shoulders that I have carried around for far too long.

My mind circles, as it has many times before, into wondering how Lizbeth and my brother might be. Hoping for the best, I also fear the worst. Anyone who has known incarceration for so long will surely carry scars.

I will do the right thing by Lizbeth, the woman who promised to be my mate. Although my heart does not belong to her, maybe a love of a different kind can grow, with time. One that is more about friendship. However much it pains me, I will bury my feelings, for her sake.

My wolf turns his back on me, bemoaning that she is a shifter and that her wolf will know.

But Ada is already taken—she was quick to point out that she loved the blacksmith bastard.

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