Bridget spent the entire day reconnoitering the area. She returned to the tavern in time for her evening meal. She had experienced several bouts of feeling disconnected from the earth… as though she were flying. It was a kind of lightheadedness that she usually associated with not eating properly. She hoped that a good meal would help her shake the unsteadiness and that a cold bath might alleviate her growing desire to feel a man’s cock buried in her cunt. Who was she kidding, at this point she’d welcome having him use her ass if it meant that there was a man in her bed providing her with the welcome relief only a powerful orgasm could give her.
She scanned the room to see if there was anyone to whom she might take a fancy for the night. At first, she saw no one of interest, but then he walked through the door. She literally stopped breathing for several moments. When she could shake the feeling of reverie she had been experiencing, she noticed she wasn’t the only woman drawn to the hooded stranger. He pushed back the hood as he entered revealing dark brown hair and ice blue eyes. He was taller and more powerfully built than any other man in the room.
He glanced around and then seemed to focus on her. His stare made her warm inside, her nipples tighten even further, and the pool of desire that had been centered between her legs now threatened to drip down them. God’s teeth, she thought, she was feeling like a silly schoolgirl, instead of a widow to an alpha with a child. Surely the look of rampant lust in his eyes was meant for someone else, she thought.
“You are Bridget of Dundalk?” he rumbled at her.
The vibration of his voice resonated throughout her, but his knowledge of who she was raised the proverbial hackles along her spine.
“I am. And if Ruari sent you…”
“I do not serve the alpha of Dundalk. I serve no man. I am Gideon of Tintagel…”
“Tintagel? Isn’t that some ruin of a castle and tiny shire along the southern most coast of Britannia?” she questioned, her voice dripping with disdain.
“The repairs to the castle are underway. Might I join you for dinner?”
Feeling emboldened for no reason at all, she replied, “If all you want from me is dinner, I’d prefer the company of someone who would rather warm my bed.”
He laughed. “They said you were a woman of rare strength and courage. You are old enough and experienced enough to know the danger of taunting a man who looks at you the way I do.”
“And how is it that you look at me, Gideon of Tintagel?” she goaded.
Gideon leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Like a man who has every intention of taking you upstairs, ripping those breeches down to your knees, making you face the wall before he buries his cock deep in your pussy from behind. Like a man who intends to fuck you hard as you brace yourself against that wall screaming his name when he wrenches an orgasm from deep within your soul as he pumps you full of his seed. Like a man that once he has finished with you will strip you naked, put you on your back in your bed, and drive his shaft to the end of your sheath.”
Bridget could scarcely breathe, could barely comprehend that he had spoken that way to her. She leaned back and tried to steady her nerves.
“And what do you suppose I’ll be doing while you ravage me?”
“I suppose that given the current state of your arousal you will welcome my touch, but come morning when you are exhausted and sore, you will dispute my authority over you and I will put you over my knee before spanking that fetching bottom of yours until it is red and swollen and you beg me to allow you to atone, which I will magnanimously allow you to do.”
“And you were doing so well until you threatened to spank me. You see, I don’t care to be spanked,” she chided.
“Then you will have to curb your foolish and headstrong ways, which you won’t be able to do. But I will be there to administer the proper punishment before rutting with you until you are once again calling my name in your need.”
“You’re delusional,” she hissed.
“No, Bridget of Dundalk, I am your true heart as you are mine.”
The last words had barely passed his lips before he hauled her up and brought his head down to kiss her, crushing her body against his. This was no tentative kiss of an untried lover looking to savor the experience. This was the kiss of a man filled with rage and pent-up need. His tongue swept her mouth, plundering and exploring its deepest recesses. The kiss was unrelenting and stole her breath away, while at the same time demanding that she match his passion and return it.
She should have been angry, should have offered him some sort of resistance, but his need was matched by her own. Bridget flung her arms around his neck, pressing her body tighter against his. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection as it pressed against her and she rubbed the stiffened peaks of her breasts against his leather-armored chest.
Bridget was just recognizing that he was ending the kiss when he loosened his embrace and lifted her, tossing her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. The crowd in the tavern roared their approval, snapping Bridget out of her trancelike state. Doubling her fists, she delivered what should have been a crippling blow to the small of his back. Not only did he not fall and put her down, but Gideon of Tintagel brought his hand crashing down on her upturned rump as the crowd cheered. Again, Bridget landed a punishing blow to his kidney area, but to no avail. All it got her was another hard swat to her backside to the roar of the crowd.
“Careful, my Bridget. I might start to think that you are in need or are desirous of having an audience for your first spanking.”
She raised her fist and thought better of it.
“Good girl,” he crooned to her in the way that only a supremely arrogant and self-satisfied male could. He turned toward the bar area. “Barkeep,” he called. “What room is ours and send someone to open the door and lay a fire.”
“That’ll cost extra,” replied the barman.
“Fine. I’m a wealthy man and I need the room warm as my woman will be naked shortly after we get there and for the rest of the night.”
The cheers and applause had grown to jeers, whistles, and catcalls. Gideon turned and took a small bow while still keeping her securely in place over his shoulder. Bridget was stupefied. No one had ever treated her this way, not even her former suitors or previous mate. She tried to summon the wherewithal to protest his behavior but could not find it within her. Instead she hung limply over his shoulder as he made his way up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind them as he set her on her feet.
Bridget knew she should be frightened of the tall, dark stranger, but she wasn’t. What she felt was an overwhelming need to be one with this man, if only for a little while. Not wanting him to feel as though he was in total command of their encounter, Bridget cupped her hands behind his head and brought his mouth down to hers where she laid siege to his lips as he had done to hers. She realized later he had only let her think she had any control if even for a moment. Gideon pulled her close and his lips slanted across hers as he kissed down her neck, pausing only for the briefest moment when they encountered the mark left from her mate at the hollow of her throat.
“He’s dead,” she whispered.
“It wouldn’t matter,” he rumbled back seductively.
Gideon disengaged himself from her embrace and stripped her breeches down past her knees, revealing that there was now nothing between his steely gaze and her naked mons. Without a word, he spun her around and pushed her up against the wall.
“Brace yourself,” he quietly commanded, nuzzling her neck, before running his hands over her haunches and down the outside of her thighs. “Soft, almost fragile…”
“I am no such thing,” she growled.
“Oh, but you are. A fierce and beautiful she-wolf, mate to a dead alpha. You are in need of mastering, and it isn’t a wolf who will see to that need this time.”
The overwhelming heat that seemed to be radiating from him enveloped her and caused her to quiver in response. Her body was on fire, burning far hotter than she had ever done before. Her nipples had begun to feel like shards of diamonds, threatening to shred her corset. Her raging desire pooled between her legs and threatened to leak down her thighs. Bridget felt his hard length straining against the front of his breeches, threatening to burst forth in order to mount her and claim her. No! Not that, she would not be claimed again!
Gideon moved his hand up under her shirt and made short work of the corset’s lacings. Bridget’s generous breasts spilled forth as Gideon deftly freed them from their confinement. His large hand engulfed one to knead and play with it before focusing his attention on the nipple at its center. Despite her unwillingness to do so, a soft moan escaped her lips as Gideon continued his sensual assault on her body.
One hand moved back and forth between her breasts, softly fondling at first before increasing the strength and lack of tenderness in his caresses. Gideon’s other hand trailed down the centerline of her body before cupping her mons as if to weigh its value before slipping between her thighs to tug and stimulate her nubbin.
“Gideon,” she pleaded, but pleaded for what?
Part of her knew he was dangerous, knew that completing this act with him was the most terrifying thing she had ever contemplated. But that sane portion of her brain was being overridden by her need to feel this man’s most intimate touch and to know the full measure of his lust.
His fingers trailed down, parting her swollen labia as he probed for her opening and chuckling at the evidence of her profound arousal. The palm of his large hand still framed the apex of her thighs and he held her in place as he rubbed himself against her backside.
His hand left Bridget’s breast to snake down between them, unfastening his breeches and freeing his cock. She glanced back over her shoulder and gasped. Not only was it large and very erect, but there seemed to be a large vein or hard ridge of tissue that twisted around his staff from the base and ended right behind the crown. She shuddered at the thought of the pleasure he meant to inflict upon her this night. He had been very explicit downstairs about what he planned, and she now knew he had every intention of doing so and the ability to get the job done.
She tried to struggle, both physically and mentally, but did not have the strength or will to do so. She knew that she would never be able to say he forced her. Bridget wanted this as much as he did… maybe more so.
Gideon rubbed the head of his fully engorged staff between her legs so that it skimmed between her lower lips, causing both a light friction and increasing her body’s responsive lubrication. Finding the entrance to her core, he grasped her hips with his hands and surged forward, powerfully enveloping his hard cock in her wet heat.
It had been far too long since she had felt the measure of a man possessing her. He drew back, the ridge that wrapped around his rod seeming to score her vaginal walls as he did so. Just before he had withdrawn the head, he thrust forward with a ferocity she had never known. Bridget screamed in pure hedonistic pleasure as he began to hammer her pussy with his mighty staff.
She was surprised as she cried out in surrender and ecstasy. Somehow, she had instinctively known that Gideon would have no trouble bringing her to climax, but the speed with which he did so left her breathless. Her nipples ached painfully as they were repeatedly slammed into the wall as he hammered her with his coupling. Her legs trembled and felt as though they would not hold her upright. She had never responded this dramatically to anything before. Even being knotted had not left her feeling this weak and out of control. Her breath caught in her chest and she felt as though she was going to pass out as her sheath shuddered all along the hard rod that now plundered it.
Coherent thought was a thing of the past as Gideon continued to pummel her pussy, refusing to let her find any respite. Again and again he forced her to respond as he wrenched repeated climaxes from her body. His thrusting increased in speed and strength and she could feel him swelling as he prepared to release his seed.
“Now,” he commanded. “Call for me, my Bridget.”
“Gideon,” she screamed in mortal surrender to the beast who had claimed her so thoroughly.
As the last of her call and the orgasm that accompanied it trailed off, Gideon gave a final, brutal thrust as his cock released his essence deep into her pulsing sheath. He groaned and his breathing was uneven and raspy as he finished pumping his cum into her, filling her beyond capacity.
Gideon uncoupled from her and turned her back to him before reaching up to strip her naked, jerking and tearing her clothing apart before dropping it on the floor. Bridget stared down at her clothes only momentarily before he scooped her up and deposited her in the bed. She tried to crawl away from him, but he pulled her back.
“Nay, my wanton she-wolf, I’m not nearly finished with you yet.”
Quickly, Gideon disrobed and joined her in the big bed, settling himself between her thighs. Somehow the massive release of semen had not left him drained. If anything, both his cock and the ridge that twisted around it seemed harder than ever. He slipped his hands under her buttocks and drove his staff deep into her sheath, burying himself there.
“So long,” he murmured as he began to stroke her rhythmically.
Gideon fucked her for what seemed like hours. Bridget lost count of the times she climaxed, crying out his name and raking her nails down any surface on his body she could find. But it seemed to have no effect. It was as if he had lost himself to the power of the rut and was not inclined to rein in its primal force.
Time had lost meaning and Bridget now seemed to float in the rarefied air of pure sensual ecstasy. She knew she would, as he had foretold, be sore after his onslaught, but she didn’t care. At this time, and with this man, all she needed or wanted was to respond and reciprocate the carnal pleasure they seemed to have found for this one night.
Gideon surged forward, the tip of his cock caressing her cervix. Something within her began to unfurl, as though his cock had been wrapped in a tight coil that was now disengaging from his hard shaft. As he drew back until only the crown was still lodged inside her, she felt a small tendril escape her heated sheath and trace its way down to her bottom hole. Bridget struggled to get away, but Gideon held fast. Small and sinewy, it made its way deep into her darkest cavity before expanding in circumference. Bridget was now doubly impaled—Gideon’s cock continued to thrust in and out of her pussy as the ridge, for somehow she knew that was what now possessed her back channel, expanded and held her locked to Gideon in the same way an alpha male wolf tied his mate to him with his knot.
As he began to fill her again, bathing her ravaged pussy with his warmth, she lost her fight with coherent thought and succumbed to the dazzling depths of sexual rapture. The last sound she heard was the roar of a mighty dragon inside her head. As she lost consciousness, Gideon nuzzled her neck before raining kisses all over her face. He stroked her hair.
“Sleep, my beloved. For more than a thousand years have I slept waiting for you. You will learn to soar among the clouds and sing with me. We will establish a new and glorious dynasty.”
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