Page 41 of Wolf Duke

“Rather dark, but a start,” she replied, her head falling back a little, one hand cupping her breast to offer him easier access while her other hand gripped his shoulder for balance. “I’m sure you can think of something better.”

Sliding his hand down her back, Alaric lightly slapped Evaine’s arse until she rose up on her knees, and he could move the fabric of her gown aside without tearing it. Then he delved underneath, greatly enjoying the discretion: even if someone could peer into the wagon, his actions were hidden. Only he and Evaine knew that he was trailing circles along her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to her hot, wet center.

“Hmmm,” Alaric mused as he brushed his knuckles back and forth against her bush before parting the crisp hair and pushing his finger deeply inside her slick cunt, making her cry out. “Oh, do you need more fingers, sweetheart?”

“I want to spend. Hurry,” Evaine said, attempting to grind down onto his finger.

Smiling inwardly, he withdrew it, to instead circle her pleasure bud. “But I just thought of something interesting, my queen.”

“It better…oh, it better be…so, so good,” she snarled, panting for breath.

“Allegedly, Merlin was born in a cave just outside of Carmarthen.”

“I like that…oooohhhhhhh,” Evaine gasped as he knit three fingers together and plunged them deep into her sheath.

“Now, sweetheart,” Alaric murmured against her neck, kissing the silken flesh as he twisted his fingers and nudged her bud with his thumb. “You must be quiet. No wild cries or the guards will come running.”

To his great satisfaction, Evaine surrendered within moments to his tender ministrations, burying her face in his neck and screaming her release into his shoulder as her cunt spasmed around his fingers. How gloriously lusty she was! He truly adored how Evaine could be so fierce and bold, yet also submit so readily and completely to his touch.

When she moved on his lap, he grimaced as his cock strained against his hose, eager to be inside her. No. Not here. They were too close to Carmarthen to be knotted together when they arrived.

Evaine curled her hand around his cock. “What about you?”

His breath hissed between his teeth. “I’ll be quite well.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” she replied saucily. “Now, the knotting aspect only happens when your cock is in my cunt, yes? For conception? What if…what if you spent in my arse? I liked the gold dildo in there. I wouldn’t mind trying something much bigger, as long as you go slowly.”

His blood surged at the delectable thought. Goddess, he might not survive. “You don’t have to.”

Evaine smacked his shoulder. “I know. I’m offering.”

“I’ll be so gentle,” Alaric mumbled, even as he nearly tore the ties of his hose. “Go up on your knees again, Evie, I need to wet my cock in your honey.”

Taking a deep breath in a futile attempt at regaining composure, Alaric gripped his swollen member and guided it between Evaine’s legs. With the constant rattle and sway of the wagon it was almost impossible to be controlled, but he braced his feet against the base of the opposite bench seat for balance. Teasing them both, he swirled his cock in her copious juices, ensuring he coated as much of his length as possible.

“Do it,” Evaine begged as she rubbed feverishly against him. “I want to feel you inside me.”

By touch alone under her clothing, Alaric spread more wetness around her tight anus. Then he cautiously pressed a finger inside, easing it in and out until her inner walls seemed to welcome him rather than halt his advance. Goddess, he was so aroused he could scarcely see, and his mate’s needy whimpers, her panting gasps as her hips churned, would be engraved in his mind forever.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he rasped. “I’ll enter you now.”

As he fitted the head of his cock to her anus and pressed in firmly, Evaine groaned, her back arching. Yet at the same time she pushed back on him, and soon the entire head was lodged snugly in her arse. Slowly, so slowly, Alaric carefully but relentlessly forced his cock a little deeper. The sensation was beyond words; she was so tight, so hot, it was all he could do not to spend at once and disgrace himself completely. But he needed to move. Every instinct insisted upon it, and he gently withdrew then advanced again.

“Goddess,” said Evaine unsteadily as she rocked her hips. “It’s like the biting ceremony. Pleasure and pain intertwined. The stretch burns, but it feels so good, too. Keep doing that. Don’t you dare stop.”

“Oh, you like that, my queen?” Alaric growled as he thrust harder and harder, burying his cock as deep as it could go. “My cock in your arse?”

“Yes,” she sobbed, her fingernails biting into his shoulders. “Yes.”

A heartbeat later, Evaine burrowed against his neck once again to muffle her scream of pleasure. The startling ecstasy of her fangs lightly scraping his flesh unleashed Alaric’s own release, and his seed exploded inside her.

Utterly exhausted in the best way, Alaric rested his head against the wagon’s carved wood wall and lifted one hand to stroke Evaine’s back. “I just thought of another interesting Carmarthen fact for you,” he murmured, between kisses. “It’s where the King and Queen of the Western Lands enjoyed a most excellent wagon experience.”

She giggled. “I like that one best of all.”

“And how are you enjoying your stay in Carmarthen, my queen?”

Evaine smiled at the gathering of she-wolves, both younger and elders, as though she’d not already been asked the question ten times, and about one hundred times in each place they stopped on this progress. One important thing she’d learned: an audience really didn’t care what she liked, as long as she praised it lavishly. “Carmarthen is a lovely town indeed,” she replied. “Why, this manor house is simply delightful. So warm! And a charming view of the river.”