chest and his groin tightened. He wanted her again, needed her again. This gnawing in his gut almost demanded he pick her up and take her back to the bedroom. His stomach now partially full, he had other hungers to satisfy.
Abigail’s downcast gaze and trembling fingers told him she wouldn’t be as interested in his needs. Her head was tilted away from him, the firelight glowing across her hair and smooth cheek. He fought the yearning to growl at her for turning away from him—he hated her obscured expression. The desire to know her thoughts multiplied each second he couldn’t read her amber eyes. But he needed to be more skilful, more precise this time.
Wolf wrung his hands together. Her soft fragrance tempted him. He had to know whether Abigail was okay, even if she was tossing him out of the door, or crying into her hands. If he’d injured her, either mentally or physically, he’d beat himself to a bloody pulp. He never wanted to be the source of someone else’s pain again. Not after what had happened to the last woman to enter his life.
“Are you all right?” Wolf infused as much softness into his words as possible. He didn’t possess a lot of softness—there hadn’t been much need for it in the forest. But when she looked up at him with those doe eyes, he wanted her to trust him. She brought out the man he used to be. The man with a family, the man with a future, the man who cared for others.
Abigail nodded, lifting her head up to meet his gaze. “I’m worried about my grandmother. She’s never been gone this long.”
His chest lightened, his fears somewhat alleviated. Yet his need for her grew.
He forced himself to chomp into a ripe autumn apple, to occupy his hands, teeth and tongue. Her sweet smell managed to overpower the aroma of the fresh fruit, more intoxicating than the apple. He gripped the fruit tightly in his fingers to keep from pulling her to him, sliding her legs around his hips and cushioning his cock between her silky thighs.
Most tempting of all was her kiss. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to kiss a woman so much in his life. He clutched the fruit, his fingers biting into the thick red skin to stop himself from dragging her mouth to his instead. He could so easily push her down on this bench and be once again thrusting into her lush body until she was moaning beneath him.
He concentrated on her, taking another bite of the juicy fruit, forcing down the concern clogging his throat with the food. The crunch of his bite echoed through the still room.
She couldn’t want any of that now. He’d taken advantage of her, he’d used her. He’d pushed her to do more than any sweet maiden should ever endure. She shouldn’t allow him to even touch her again with such intimacy. He wouldn’t blame her.
“Is there anyone else that could search for her? Do you have any other family she might have gone to?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s just the two of us. She’s my whole family.” She looked pale, fragile and alone beside him. As alone as he was. His chest tightened with the urge to protect her, to keep her safe, to make sure she’d never be alone and sad again.
“My parents died in our home. The cabin was accidentally set ablaze by an overturned candle. I came here to live with my grandma and grandpa after that. But he died a few years back from a fever. We’ve been on our own ever since,” Abigail continued without prompting. She twisted her fingers together nervously. Dark fears encroached on her eyes like clouds over the moon. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to smooth his fingers down her cheek, to calm the nervous fumbling of her fingers. But it had been so long since he’d been affectionate with anyone he didn’t know if he was even capable of bestowing such comfort.
“I don’t know where she could be, or what might have happened to her. Much can happen in the wood,” she blurted.
“Yes,” he returned, looking up to find her soft eyes staring at him,
Abigail’s downcast gaze and trembling fingers told him she wouldn’t be as interested in his needs. Her head was tilted away from him, the firelight glowing across her hair and smooth cheek. He fought the yearning to growl at her for turning away from him—he hated her obscured expression. The desire to know her thoughts multiplied each second he couldn’t read her amber eyes. But he needed to be more skilful, more precise this time.
Wolf wrung his hands together. Her soft fragrance tempted him. He had to know whether Abigail was okay, even if she was tossing him out of the door, or crying into her hands. If he’d injured her, either mentally or physically, he’d beat himself to a bloody pulp. He never wanted to be the source of someone else’s pain again. Not after what had happened to the last woman to enter his life.
“Are you all right?” Wolf infused as much softness into his words as possible. He didn’t possess a lot of softness—there hadn’t been much need for it in the forest. But when she looked up at him with those doe eyes, he wanted her to trust him. She brought out the man he used to be. The man with a family, the man with a future, the man who cared for others.
Abigail nodded, lifting her head up to meet his gaze. “I’m worried about my grandmother. She’s never been gone this long.”
His chest lightened, his fears somewhat alleviated. Yet his need for her grew.
He forced himself to chomp into a ripe autumn apple, to occupy his hands, teeth and tongue. Her sweet smell managed to overpower the aroma of the fresh fruit, more intoxicating than the apple. He gripped the fruit tightly in his fingers to keep from pulling her to him, sliding her legs around his hips and cushioning his cock between her silky thighs.
Most tempting of all was her kiss. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to kiss a woman so much in his life. He clutched the fruit, his fingers biting into the thick red skin to stop himself from dragging her mouth to his instead. He could so easily push her down on this bench and be once again thrusting into her lush body until she was moaning beneath him.
He concentrated on her, taking another bite of the juicy fruit, forcing down the concern clogging his throat with the food. The crunch of his bite echoed through the still room.
She couldn’t want any of that now. He’d taken advantage of her, he’d used her. He’d pushed her to do more than any sweet maiden should ever endure. She shouldn’t allow him to even touch her again with such intimacy. He wouldn’t blame her.
“Is there anyone else that could search for her? Do you have any other family she might have gone to?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s just the two of us. She’s my whole family.” She looked pale, fragile and alone beside him. As alone as he was. His chest tightened with the urge to protect her, to keep her safe, to make sure she’d never be alone and sad again.
“My parents died in our home. The cabin was accidentally set ablaze by an overturned candle. I came here to live with my grandma and grandpa after that. But he died a few years back from a fever. We’ve been on our own ever since,” Abigail continued without prompting. She twisted her fingers together nervously. Dark fears encroached on her eyes like clouds over the moon. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to smooth his fingers down her cheek, to calm the nervous fumbling of her fingers. But it had been so long since he’d been affectionate with anyone he didn’t know if he was even capable of bestowing such comfort.
“I don’t know where she could be, or what might have happened to her. Much can happen in the wood,” she blurted.
“Yes,” he returned, looking up to find her soft eyes staring at him,
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