Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(57)

“Not true. If not for you and your friends, I’d be dead. Daemon bait.” Soft fingers traced his eyebrows, making his heart clench, making his arms ache to lock her against him and never let her go. But he forced himself to do nothing, to simply hold on to her waist as she explored his ruined face.

“You’re beautiful, Wulfe.”

“You’re blind.” He sucked in a breath, afraid he’d offended her. But the sweet smile she gifted him with melted him instead.

“There’s so much more to you than your scars. I wish you could see that. I wish you could see what I see, the gentleness, the fierceness in defense of the vulnerable, and the honor, and valor, and goodness. Your skin may be scarred, but it doesn’t dim your beauty, not even a little.”

So mesmerized was he by her words and her soft touches that he barely registered what she was doing until the fingers she’d burrowed into his hair suddenly gripped his head and pulled him toward her.

Natalie kissed him, full on the mouth.

Wulfe shuddered at the sweetness of her warm lips brushing his, closing his eyes against the torrent of emotion that flowed into him through that small joining, lighting him up inside. He gathered her closer, kissing her back, gentle, tender kisses on her lips, her soft cheeks, her eyes, her forehead. Tenderness welled up hot and full until he felt as if his chest would crack open from the pressure of it.

Beneath his hands, she began to tremble. He heard the soft catch of her breath and felt the tension coiling in her body. The musk of her desire wove around him, filling his mind until his own hands began to shake. She wanted him. Her rising passion transmitted itself to him through the fingers still burrowing in his hair. But his body refused to respond, and it saddened him beyond measure.

Slowly, he pulled back, meeting her gaze, slain by the heat in gray eyes turned silver. He stroked her cheek, then caressed her silken hair. “I can’t give you more, Natalie. I wish I could.”

A shudder escaped her on a hard, pent-up breath. Disappointment pinched her eyes, and she dropped her gaze. “You’re not into me in that way. That’s too bad, but I understand.”

Gripping her chin, he forced her to look at him. “Then you understand nothing. Mentally, I yearn to strip you naked, toss you onto that bed, and follow you down.”

“Wulfe.” Her eyes went molten with desire, and he kicked himself for a moron.

“But my body and mind are no longer connected in that way. I was mated . . . married . . . to our previous Radiant, Beatrice, for over 140 years. She died nine months ago in a Mage attack. It damaged me, Natalie, in many, many ways. I no longer . . . rise . . . with desire, not for any woman. Food has lost its taste, colors their brilliance. My senses and my libido are shot, and I don’t think they’re ever coming back.”

“It’s more than . . . you know . . . ?”

“Impotence?” He snorted. “Yeah. I can get it up manually. And I can get off . . . pardon my crudeness. But I can’t feel. I can’t want.” He stroked her hair, loving the springy feel. “If I could, I would want you. Only you.”

The disappointment in her eyes slipped away, turning them incandescent. “Do you enjoy touching me? Holding me?”

He nodded slowly, a smile tugging at his mouth. “I love touching you.”

The smile she gave him was nothing short of brilliant, stealing his breath. Had the goddess ever created a woman more beautiful?

“Good,” she said. “Even if you can’t give me more, I’d very much like for you to touch me, or hold me. Do you like to cuddle?”

He grinned. “I’m a wolf.” His heart rose, feeling lighter than it had in a long, long time, as if a terrible weight had been lifted. And maybe it had.

She laughed. “I want whatever you can give me.”

“I could bring you pleasure.” The thought tantalized.

Her lashes swept down, her breath turned ragged. When she looked at him again, her eyes were smoking. But she shook her head. “Maybe later. For now, just hold me, Wulfe.”

His animal whined with pleasure.

“There’s nothing I’d enjoy more.” He lifted her into his arms in a move that felt as natural as breathing, then deposited her on the bed, and joined her. As he pulled her into his arms, his world righted itself, the terrible tension escaping his limbs as he cradled her against him, her precious head on his chest. He stroked her silken hair, filled with an incredible sweetness, marveling at the miracle of her acceptance, and vowed that if he managed to do nothing else right, he would keep her safe.

But deep down, he feared that he’d already failed.

Chapter Fifteen

Natalie reveled in the feel of Wulfe’s strong arms around her as they lay together, fully clothed, on his bed. His body was like granite, his arms as thick as tree trunks, yet he held her so gently, as if she were made of the most fragile glass. He smelled of dark forests and sunlit meadows, and his warm, masculine scent intoxicated her. His jaw rested against her head, her cheek against his shoulder, and nothing had ever felt so intimate, so right.

She’d lain like this with Rick from time to time, but she’d never felt as if they shared the same air, as if their hearts beat in time. And she did with Wulfe.

Her arm curled tighter around his waist as love, pure and bright, rushed up inside of her, stinging her eyes. Nothing would likely ever come of it. Certainly nothing physical. But she longed to pull off his shirt and rub her cheek against his bare chest. She longed to feel his nakedness pressed against hers. The thought shattered her breath. But he didn’t feel the same, he couldn’t feel the same after the damage he’d suffered.