tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Lady and the Wolf

The Lady and the Wolf


They brought him to her straight from the arena. His chest was streaked with blood, sweat, and the gritty dust of the arena floor. The wolf pelt that gave him his name was draped about his shoulders, and his amber eyes darted warily around the room, noting every detail. Four men held him, controlling him by means of the heavy iron chain fastened to the iron collar around his throat.

She rose, and reached her hand out for the chain. "Leave us," she commanded.

The lead handler paled. "But, but my lady!" He gasped. "This man has..."

The look she gave him would have frozen lava. "I said, leave us. I know what he has done." Her lips curved as she examined the Wolf. "That's why I want him." She held her hand out again, and the handler trembled as he placed the links into her delicate palm. "The key, too." He dropped the heavy key into her hand, bowed, and backed out of the room, the others scrambling to follow.

As the door closed behind them, she heard a rumble from the Wolf. It may have been a laugh, but his face was still set and wary. The lady smiled as she turned to him again. "Hundreds of victories. Scores of opponents killed and—what is it? Oh yes, at least three handlers." She reached up to cares his cheek, heedless of the grime that streaked the tanned skin. "I do not fear you, my Wolf." Her hand fell to the iron collar, and she frowned. "But I think we can do better than these crude restraints."

She felt his eyes on her as she led him to the table, felt the tension in his body as he allowed himself to be led. Uncertainty—and likely some curiosity—kept him from trying to bolt, or from attacking. A different sort of tension rippled through the lady—pleasurable anticipation. The hot scent of him, the chiseled muscles that rippled beneath his scarred hide, the brutal strength that she sensed waiting barely in check—a dramatic contrast to the dissipated nobles who thought themselves her equal. Already her skin tingled as she considered her plans for the night.

Waiting on the table was another collar, made of elegant wrought silver. A matching chain lay coiled next to it. His amber eyes were still wary as she turned and held up the iron key. "You've worn that collar since you were first dragged to the arena," she told him. "Now, I am going to remove it. You will wear my token instead." Deliberately, she put the key in the lock, turned it. He jerked but did not try to bolt. The lady smiled, and stood on her toes to plant a brief kiss at the corner of his mouth as she let the crude iron drop to the floor. "Good Wolf." The silver was cool against his skin, lighter than the iron, as she locked it in place.

"What must I do?" The words were abrupt, the tone harsh, but the lady only smiled as she ran her hands over his chest.

"Whatever I ask." Her eyes went dark, and her pink tongue darted out to lick her lips. "Whenever I ask it." Her fingers unclasped the wolf pelt around his shoulders, flung it aside. It landed on the couch, staining the silk pillows with blood and sweat, and she dragged her nails lightly across his chest. He shuddered and his hands clutched her arms. His fingers would leave bruises, but she only laughed and laid her hand over the center. Heat spread from her palm, wrapping around his heart. "Are you already so eager?" She pressed her lithe body close against him, pulling his head down to hers for a passionate kiss.

Wolf shuddered again as the violence of his nature was directed to carnal matters. Her taste was subtle, earthy. Irresistible. His hands fell from her arms to her hips, pulling her against him so that he could feel the heat that collected there, in her belly and between her legs. His own response was immediate and unmistakable.

She pulled away from him, panting. Her eyes were dark and her hair disheveled as she wrapped the silver chain around her hand. Pulled him with her as she moved toward the couch. Spun, pushed him back against the red velvet cushions, and straddled him in one smooth move.

"My Wolf..." She hooked the chain to the wall, leaving both hands free to slide down his body. He hissed as she pressed her lips to fresh wounds, skimmed over still-healing slashes. The pain fed the lust, and he reached for her again, growling as the collar pulled him up short. Then she was above him, her hair a dark curtain as she bent to take his mouth again. He tasted the salt tang of blood on her lips, and his growl this time was deeper. Not a threat, but an invitation.

"Touch me, my Wolf." The command thrummed in his head, and his fists knotted around the thin silk of her gown. Her delighted gasp echoed the rip of cloth, and then his hands were on her breasts. Small, firm, incredibly soft. She leaned into his touch, feeling his hardness nestle against her heat, letting that heat build higher as he closed his mouth around the peak of her breast. Pleasure rose, eliciting a moan from her throat, an answering groan from his.

All of his senses focused on her, and he reveled in the rich scent and taste of her. In the feel of soft skin and subtle curves beneath his hands, the weight of her against him. He twisted, trying to slide inside her, but found himself trapped between her thighs.

"Not yet," she panted, and slid up, bracing her hands against the wall as she knelt on the pillows. The scent of her arousal smote him, and his eyes were drawn to the mystery she presented. "Taste me." Her voice was thick, and he pulled her close enough to lap at the wetness that already ran down the tender flesh of her inner thigh. She gasped, trembled, and he pulled her closer, burying his face between thighs. The same sweet flavor as her lips, but stronger, headier. Like wine, and like wine the more he tasted the more he craved.

Her slender body was taut, trembling beneath his hands as he slid his tongue inside her. She made a sound, almost a scream, as his lips found the swollen nub hiding there and worried it. The depth and strength of her reaction amazed him; her small hands clutched his shoulders as she writhed and cried out in some barbarian tongue. Then she tensed, bent like a bow, and seemed to shatter beneath his hands. Again, he drove her up, and then a third time, and each time her release seemed even sweeter.

Her skin was dewed with sweat as she finally slid back down his body. She kissed him again, hungrily, sucking her own juices off of his tongue before lightly biting his lip. He was hard, ready, desperate—his hips arched, seeking that soft wet center, and this time she obliged, impaling herself on his shaft. Then it was his turn to shudder with bliss. He reached for her; she laced her fingers in his, pinning his hands to the pillows as she rode him. Her eyes locked with his, holding him as surely as the collar and chain, promising him even more. His breath rasped in his chest—hers grew ragged as the heat built, peaked—and exploded. Release was brutal. His back arched and the howl that burst from him was joined by the lady's scream as he poured himself into her, hips still pumping, until he had nothing more to give.

She was a soft, warm weight on his chest. He became conscious of this slowly, as her words made it past the rushing sound in his ears. Soft words of praise, accompanied by small licks and nibbles, a caress of her hand. Wolf blinked the haze from his vision, focused on the lady who curled on top of him like a contented cat, still draped in the tatters of her gown.

"My Wolf," she purred. Her fingers danced over his belly. "You see how much more pleasant life is with me?"

He shifted, strained against the collar. Suddenly conscious of the shallow wounds still stinging, of the sweat and grime staining his body. "My lady—I am not—I kill men."

"And you will again, I am sure. I do not intend to make a lapdog of you, or a dickless noble. Your efforts in the arena have made you what you are. But I will be your sole owner and patron, and when you are not in the arena or on the practice ground, you will be here with me." Her teeth scraped over his jaw, and even now he felt himself react. "And I will use you however I desire."

He sighed and relaxed against the pillows. "Then, how may I serve the sister of the Emperor?"

She smiled, and showed him.

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