The Wolf King (Wolf King, #1)

by Lauren Palphreyman

He groans into my ear, and the sound vibrates through me. “You don’t know how many ungentlemanly things I’ve thought about doing to you.” His voice is low, and his accent is even thicker than usual.

“What ungentlemanly things?” I ask. A slow grin spreads across his face. “Kissing you.” “Gentlemen kiss their ladies.” He raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Do they kiss like this?” he asks. He lowers his mouth to mine. This time, his kiss is deep. Rough. Claiming. I can’t breathe, I can’t think. There is only him, his mouth, his tongue moving in deep dominant strokes against mine, his groan that rumbles through my body and makes me quiver.

“Hm. Interesting. How about this?” He shifts, moving down my body so he hovers over my chest. Eyes on mine, he lowers his mouth to where my nipple is peaked, visible through the thin material of his shirt. He clamps his lips around it and he sucks hard. I cry out as my back arches from the mattress.

“I asked you a question, Princess,” he says. “And until we get to the bottom of it, I’m not going to be able to move on to my next lesson.”

“No. That’s not very gentlemanly at all!” I gasp. His grin widens. “No? Good. Because, there’s another place I’ve imagined kissing you for weeks now. You’ll have to let me know whether it’s gentlemanly or not.”

AHHHHHHHHHH

I watch, entranced, as he lowers himself further down the bed.

Slowly, he slides his hands up my hips, hitching up the shirt and exposing my midriff and my underwear. I feel all of his attention hone in on the place between my legs that throbs with need. A low, almost inaudible growl builds in his chest, before his gaze moves back to mine.

He cocks an eyebrow—and I know the question he is asking is not just part of his game. He is asking permission. If I play along, he will take this even further. How far, I do not know. All I can think of is more. “No,” I whimper. “Gentleman do not do that.”

“Fuck. You’re beautiful,” he mutters, as he looks at me where no man has ever looked at me before. His eyes lift to mine once more. “Do they do this?” He lowers his head and lightly kisses the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Before I can process what he has just done, his mouth is on me, fully, completely. Hot and wet and hungry. He devours me. My back arches. My hips buck, and he grabs them, growling like a wild animal being disturbed from his prey, as he plants them firmly against the mattress.

He slides his tongue along my center, and I moan. I have never felt anything like it. He flicks, and licks, and sucks as though he cannot get enough of me, and the storm inside me becomes frantic. ...

“Fuck,” he groans against me, and I shiver.

There is only this feeling, wild and raw, pumping through my veins. I feel like the wind that tears through the Northlands, and the animals that rage through the forests. He growls, his mouth clamping over the bundle of nerves, tasting me as I come undone beneath him. When I finally settle back into my body, I’m panting, splayed out on the bed.

Callum kisses me gently between my legs, his eyes on mine—the wolf is prominent behind them. When he pulls away, his lips are moist. He drags his teeth over them, a low growl scraping against his throat. He climbs back over me, and gently kisses my mouth.

He looks down at me, and smiles softly. “Well?” he asks, mischief in his expression. “Does a gentleman do that?”

I do not know much about men, but I know if I touched him. . . His eyes darken as if he knows the direction of my thoughts.

His sculpted frame rivals that of the marble statues of the gods that line the King’s Approach to the palace. Hard and powerful and commanding attention.

“One day,” he promises darkly. “One day, I will show you what happens when you touch a wolf.”

Yet it is a while before I fall asleep. I dream of wolf eyes, watching me through the trees.

He takes a sip, then goes back to his book. “Have you met the last person, other than you, who burst into my chambers unannounced?” he asks. “No?” “That’s because they’re dead.” “Am I supposed to be scared?” “Yes.” He flicks the page.

He surprises me by crouching onto one knee before me. He picks up the collar, then looks up. His body heat envelopes me, and I catch the scent of dark forests and peppermint tea. He moistens his lips, and for some reason, what Callum did to me last night crashes into my mind. Followed by one of the horrible things that Blake said. About having me ride his face. When Blake smirks, I realize that was exactly his intention.

As the mists of rage and confusion ebb away, I notice Blake is smiling. His cheek is bright red and his eyes dance. “The rabbit has grown some claws,” he says. “Don’t touch me again.” “Likewise.”

“No,” he says. “Never. In another life, in another situation, we’d have spent this morning in bed with me between your thighs.” The corner of his lip lifts as my cheeks flame.

Something warms inside my chest at the sincerity in his expression. “You don’t need to tell him.” “He’ll know.” “How?” “My scent is all over you.”

The sleeves are made of intricate lace that is shaped into leaves and thorns and branches. One of the servants helped me cinch in the corset at the waist, and the collar is high. I pinned back my hair to accentuate it, and pinched my cheeks to bring some color to them,

I hide my smile, though I’m sure it’s evident in my tone. “Thank you, Callum.” “It makes me think—” “What?” He sighs. “Nothing. A silly fantasy.” I throw him a curious look, but he merely smiles sheepishly and gestures ahead.

Huh

He looks at Blake, who is straightening his cuffs, and his expression darkens. “He may look like a wee weasel, but he’s more capable than he seems. He was in the King’s Guard for a time, if you believe his stories. He’s a deadly warrior when he chooses to fight rather than stab people in the back, or poison them. It’s hard to believe you could just walk into his chambers and hit him.”

Smash

Across the room, Blake smirks, and I’m sure he’s listening.

The Wolf King’s eyes land on mine, and he frowns. Slowly, he walks toward me. Callum tenses, and my insides clench. Be bold.

I swallow and raise my chin. “A real princess does not kneel to a false king,” I say. There’s a collective intake of breath within the Great Hall.

My insides twist. Goddess, what have I done? Across the platform, Blake’s lips curve into a wicked smile.

“You said be bold,” I hiss. “Yes, look him in the eye, answer his questions, don’t cower before him. I didn’t expect you to challenge his claim to the throne!” Blake laughs,

I chew my bottom lip. “Callum is the Wolf King’s brother?”

Blake is completely at ease beside me, his hands in the pockets of his breeches. It is as if he is looking out onto one of the Northlands lochs on a peaceful morning.

“You look exquisite, by the way,” says Blake, his voice smooth like honey.

“You should never pretend to be less than what you are.” My jaw tightens. That is rich, coming from him. Blake is a male whose entire persona seems contrived. He continually wears a mask of disinterest to hide his true intentions, whatever they may be. “And you don’t pretend?” Dimples puncture his cheeks. “I’m always pretending.”

Blake looks bored as he follows closely behind. “Calm yourself,” he whispers, his tone dark. “Wolves like to hunt little rabbits. Your pulse is pounding so hard that even I could be tempted to give chase.”

Tall, broad-shouldered, and well built, I can imagine both are a fearsome sight on a battlefield. They also have a similar stubbornness in the line of their jaw, and almond-shaped eyes—though James’s are hazel.

“We’re not trading her.” Callum’s body is unsettlingly still. “You forget your place, Brother. Don’t make me put you in the dungeons.” Callum laughs, but it is not his usual easy laugh; it is dark and unfamiliar. “I’d like to see you try.”

The first hint of a smile ghosts James’s lips as he looks at me. “And why should we trust you, daughter of my enemy?” “She chose to come here, you know?” says Blake as he studies his fingernails. “So strange for a rabbit to walk willingly into a den of Wolves.”

“Hello, little rabbit.” I catch a hint of whisky on his breath. “Enjoying the festivities?” “Are you drunk?” “Exceedingly.” He leans over me to reach for a decanter full of amber-colored liquid. I have to lean back to prevent getting his armpit in my face.

His eyes glint in the torchlight—curious and watchful. And certainly more intelligent than his current demeanor suggests. I wonder if he is even drunk, or whether this is just a game. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to drink all this and start behaving like that.”

My gaze snaps up to Blake’s, and something in his eyes makes me shiver. I recall the vial of poison he took from me in the kitchens; the one I was going to use on Isla. He said he had a use for it. Did he use it on them? The corner of his lip quirks in answer to my unasked question.

“Will they. . . will they survive?” I ask. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” He shrugs. “What do you think?”

A shadow stirs inside me—provoked by the darkness in Blake’s gaze. Everything else seems distant. He is offering to kill them for me. I do not know how to feel about that. They deserve death, for what they were intending to do. But could my conscience bear it? I swallow. “I. . . I don’t know.” “Pity.” “Are they in pain?” “Very much so.”

Hottttt

“You are small. You’re a small and fearsome creature.” His face swims in and out of focus. I grab both sides of his head, and push my forehead into his. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.” He laughs again, and his big hands curl around my waist. “You see? Terrifying.”

I dip my mouth to his ear. “That thing you did last night. I want you to do it again.” He stills, his fingers tightening, and a soft groan scrapes his throat.

He twists me around and pulls me onto his lap. “You see? You’re a small, fearsome, and demanding creature.” His warm breath tickles my ear. “And, believe me when I say, if you torture me tonight, I shall repay the debt tomorrow.” “I’m not torturing you!”

“Oh, but you are. I’m hard just thinking about what we did last night, and about how much I want to do it again right now.” His words turn my insides to molten gold.