Pawn Among Wolves Ch. 02

With a soft sigh, Gemma turned herself over cautiously onto her side, the wound on her neck facing up, and lifted a hand to peel off one of the pieces of tape holding the gauze. His fingers were gentle, swift, easing off the other pieces and peeling back the covering. Suddenly she realised something. She blushed.

"Do I need to take my shirt off?" she asked. It was different in reality, here, now, thinking of undressing in front of Mac. She felt a gentle finger begin to circle soothingly over the vertebrae at the top of her neck, under her hair. She sighed softly as the tension in her eased again. Well, easing the embarrassment. There were other sources of tension

"Not if it'll make you uncomfortable, I can work around it," Mac replied. The gentle fingertips were magic, working down her spine over the brushed cotton, melting her bones. Relaxing, her mind drifted away from tension and she wondered what she was worried about. This was Mac. Shirtless back massage? You bet. She'd be face down anyway. Pity.

She began to undo the remaining buttons on her top, facing away from him, and flinched again as arousal pulsed liquid between her thighs, and the raw spot at her entrance reacted in pain. Maybe not such a pity. Wavering between lust and fear was really getting tedious.

He helped her out of her shirt, and she shut her eyes, rolling onto her front away from him, and buried her face in the sheet with a sigh, feeling the blush burn into her cheeks despite the face-down position. He was pulling the pillows out from under her head as she relaxed, murmuring, "This won't hurt - my neck - will it?"

There was a moment of silence, then, "No, I promise your neck won't bother you at all," he growled softly in assurance. She heard his hands rubbing briskly together before they settled gently on the dimple in the small of her back, warm pads of his thumbs rubbing in small, light circles.

Mac massaging her back. She had a brief, naughty urge to text Bethan and Kate.

He began to glide the ointment up her spine in long, strong, smooth strokes, careful to avoid the healing cuts, his touch seeming to heat and relax every pore as he ministered gently to her. Gemma's blood swam slowly through her veins, thickening with each caress, pulsing heavily, sweetly through her melting limbs. Mmm.

She could feel herself slowly surfacing, sinking, surfacing, drifting through the gentle, strong massage. His hands glided gently, firming messages of calm into the tension in her back. She was weightless. Sloughing off the days of pain and tension. The fear. The worry. She didn't need to think. Move. Plan. Nothing. Mac was here. A happy little smile lifted one corner of her mouth. Bliss.

She floated in a bubble of gentle, happy arousal. He was touching her. It was enough.

Gemma felt a soft brush of a kiss on the vertebra at the base of her neck.

She thought she felt it.

It felt lovely.

She was sure he'd just kissed her. While still those sinfully seductive hands were smoothing over her back, stroking her into total relaxation.

She hoped he had.

"Mac?" she murmured, drowsy with heat, and peace.

"Shhh," he answered softly. "Let me heal you."

He pressed another gentle kiss to the next vertebra, and her skin tingled, little circles of pleasure shimmering out from the feather touch of his lips. Gemma let out a soft sound, half sigh, half purr, as she felt the liquid heat gently begin to simmer again within her.

This is so worth dying for.

His lips and the gentle sweep of his tongue were caressing over one of the scored scratches on her back, made when -- her brain stopped following the thought further back, drifting in the pleasure of now. She realised she was purring, gentle murmurs of pleasure sighing from her mouth as she began occasionally to move with his hands, moulding herself into the gentle strokes. A light pang at the cut was barely felt as she arched gently against his touch, murmuring an incoherent sound into the sheets. His lips were pure delight, smoothing the light pain into a deep pleasure and quickening heat.

Mmm.

Her brain could barely arrange any thought, mind close to complete, replete shut down.

Why think?

She sighed.

Just feel.

His lips reached a second cut, and she arched sensuously into his caress, welcoming the light pain for the pleasure that followed it, subsumed it, heating her blood and peaking her nipples against the sheets. She rubbed herself delicately against the fabric, feeling the urgency began to build at the fire shot from her nipples to her belly. Mac moved onto another scratch. Mmm. Another. She lost count, sliding under his hands continuously now, gliding her legs to rub searchingly against the sheets.

One of the cuts extended underneath the fabric of her loose, soft pyjama bottoms, and he was gently peeling them back, following the mark with his lips, tongue delicately gliding in the wake of the fabric. He settled over the deeper cut on her cheek, his teeth quickly, firmly pulling off the plaster, making her gasp and surface briefly before the swirl of his tongue pulled her back down to his touch. The gentle lips were even more electric against her sensitive buttock, and she began to tremble, rubbing her thighs together insistently as the juices beaded the soft hairs at her entrance. Her trousers were gone.

Good.

He licked his way lightly, sensuously to another scratch on her buttock, and she groaned softly, delightedly into her pillow.

Divine.

There was a scratch on her inner thigh, where that other one had ripped off her panties. Unthinking, swirling in heat and lightheaded pleasure, Gemma parted her thighs as Mac's lips left the pleasurable site of the last former pain point on her buttocks. His hands were now gliding with a playful touch over her smooth back, turning her gently onto her side. In a blink he was in front of her, she just managed to focus on him - unbelievably gorgeous, crouched on the bed and lifting her upper thigh. He sighed gently as he saw the cut.

"Poor Gemma," the air suspended in her lungs as his tawny head descended and she moaned, long and low as he began to lick gently around the area.

"Not," was what the breathless groan sounded like, and Mac lifted his head that so he could gauge her meaning. Did she want him to stop?

"Mmm?" he asked. Beautiful, he thought, eyes dancing over the sculpted curves of golden skin laid out before him. His wolf side bristled with a protective inward growl. He was here to heal only. He snorted lightly. No argument. Although it didn't stop him from aching appreciatively.

"Not poor. Rich. Here. Please," Gemma arched against the sheet for emphasis as she struggled to get the words out, and let escape another long, soft cry of pleasure as Mac smiled and bent his head again.

The feeling was so incredible. Just. Nothing like it. His lips and delicately sweeping tongue on the soft skin of her inner thigh. Bliss. Tingling, almost too intense. The pain at the entrance to her pussy was melting in building anticipation and she was moaning as she felt the light dance of his tongue stroking softly closer, closer. Her pussy hurt, but oh she knew he would make it feel better. So, so much better. Oh please, please, the little croon was echoing within her head.

Then the soft tip of his tongue brushed over her labia and the voice inside her stuttered into, Oh.

Oh.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

My.

Oh.

His tongue was deeper, sweeping up her cleft, swirling, and her head fell back, neck unnoticed as she moaned again, again. Groaned. The incoherent croon in her head was rising to a begging keen, and she could hear gasps of it escaping her lips as she pressed her hips up against him, whimpering.

His tongue pressed firmly inside her, and the last fleeting pain signals were swamped under the rushing wave of pleasure sweeping over her. Gemma cried out, lifting her hips totally off the bed as she ground her face against the stiff, probing swirling organ within her. OW, she thought as the pain in her neck spiked, but the feeling was lost instantly as his tongue began to thrust. Completely lost. She knew those whimpering moans must be hers, but she didn't seem to be connected to anything. Except that tongue. His tongue. Wow. It was like-, better, yet less - different - something, she wanted more, yet nothing could tear her away from this. The furnace in her belly was raging higher, tighter, tighter, building, building with the silken glide of that amazing-. Ung. And she was rushing toward -. Here.

Something burst within her, shockingly intense, and Gemma screamed hoarsely as a white sheet of fire scorched through her, convulsing her hips as she rocked against his face, trying to twist out of his grip as the unbearable pleasure pulled her in all directions. His clasp around her thighs was firm, gentle and unyielding and his tongue continued to glide smoothly inside her, lips joining in as he suckled.

Unbearable. Incredible. Unbearable. Gemma found that her fingers were twisted in Mac's hair as she peaked again, again. She was trying to pull his head away, give herself some respite, moaning, begging incoherently as the shock waves continued to rock through her body. He didn't even seem to notice her desperate clutch as he withdrew his tongue, slowly, allowing her to tremble back into awareness of herself. Then he carefully stroked it up, up, and finally, gently, there. The bud at the head of her pussy lips.

Oh god.

A pause. Gemma tried to remember how to breathe. It felt like her body had just been beginning to drift down, shuddering, amazed, dazed, overloaded, from wherever it had exploded across the heavens. Now suddenly, he'd reached out and nudged her back upwards again. Higher. Back towards -. She couldn't. Not again. Not yet. Not again. Wow.

Very, very delicately he caressed her clit with the very tip of his tongue, a second time, and Gemma shuddered, a second step, ratcheted rush of tension shooting back into her shuddering limbs.

"Mac, please," she was begging him to stop, but the final words stuck in her throat-- exploding as a sort of groan, jerking her pussy up towards him. God knew what he'd done but the shock waves pulsing out from her clit were unbelievable, undeniable. Her limbs began to shiver again in the rebuilding tension, hauling together the pieces of herself as she began to tighten under that insistent tongue.

Her fingers, she realised now, were tugging him closer.

Another brush against her clit, and she groaned deeply. His breath was hot against her, unbearable, and she whimpered as he blew gently on the sensitive bud. Then let out a desperate, squeaking grunt as abruptly that powerful tongue sheathed itself back within her pussy.

She didn't even try to stop herself moaning this time. Her body seemed to be shuddering incessantly, powerless against the unceasing ripples of pleasure pulsing out from the tongue in her cunt. Building, building, she was rocked in a cross-current as a gentle finger tapped against her peaking bud and cried out at the top of her voice, arching, begging against him. Again. Again.

Oh god, she thought, just before she exploded a second time.

Mac.

Wow.

That - he - oh.

Mmmm.

She floated down weightlessly, shuddering gently, cocooned in his arms. Mmm. He was curled around her snugly, his tongue sliding gently over the healing skin on her neck, a memory of pain fading as he stopped and nibbled wet kisses over the delicate pulse points. Her neck felt -- prickly, uncertain. There was none of the searing pain, but the skin still felt tender, unfamiliar. As though it wasn't quite sure what had happened to it and how it was supposed to react. Not quite pleasure. But definitely not pain.

Mac kept licking the tender skin, gently, rhythmically, snuggled against her back with Gemma tucked into the curve of him. He was also very aroused, but ignoring it. He liked the soft scent of her, surrounding him, it eased the tension he always carried. And he loved her total, utter relaxation. Limp and sated and happy in his embrace. Carefree.

Gemma lay in a blissful daze, her mind shuffling through a languid inventory as his warm tongue gently continued to stroke over the tender site of the old wound. Her neck was stiff, but no longer hurt. Her back didn't hurt. Buttocks didn't hurt. Thigh didn't. Pussy - erm. Her pussy couldn't actually remember what hurt was, it was so far from the current feeling.

Then a new sensation began to wriggle along her nerves as he continued to minister lightly to her neck. She hunched slightly, trying to escape his touch, but his tongue followed, and she wasn't sure he'd even noticed. She shifted gently as far as she could with his warm arms around her, arching her head away, but he moved a hand and drew her back. She started to squirm, and felt a slight rumble- chuckle? - in the chest pressed behind her as he held her firmly and continued to lick.

"Mac!" burst protesting from her before she broke into uncontrollable squirming, giggling as she tried vainly to escape from the feelings wriggling down her spine.

He was definitely laughing now as he held her in place for three more long, tender, excruciatingly ticklish strokes of his wet tongue before he stopped, sighed, and tucked his head over the top of her, hugging her in a brief, tight embrace.

"Ticklishness is the sign that your nerves have recovered fully," he explained virtuously, his voice reverberating oddly with his chin resting on her head. It was a bit annoying, having her relative tininess so blatantly evident in this embrace, but Gemma definitely didn't want to go anywhere right now.

"Yeah, right," she murmured drowsily, "and you weren't enjoying yourself at all, were you?"

"Oh, I'd never say I didn't enjoy healing you, Gemma." A sigh. "I just wish it hadn't been necessary," he added sadly.

"It was worth it," she murmured under her breath. He snorted.

They rested comfortably in silence for a long moment.

The feeling of dazed weightlessness began to disappear under a renewal of the taut thrumming through her veins from where every millimetre of her connected to Mac started to hum. Her nipples were still aching, and beginning to feel almost painful. Well. He was here. And she could -.

"My go!" Gemma exclaimed brightly, diving into a roll to squirm around to face him. Her heart jumped. Damn, she kept forgetting what those eyes did to her. Especially sleepily relaxed, with an undercurrent of lazy arousal, as they were now. He lifted an eyebrow.

"I'm not injured."

"I can bite you if necessary."

His snort was much louder this time.

"With those? Good luck getting through my skin."

She ignored his flippancy, and bent forwards to kiss her way softly down his strong throat. She wanted to change the mood again. Actually, she just wanted to kiss his throat. And shut him up. It worked. She could feel his pulse rate accelerating under the caress of her lips, as she worked her way nibbling kisses along his jaw, down the side of his neck, back up the column of his throat before drifting across to his full lips, licking, nibbling, kissing. God she was enjoying this. She could feel his cock hardening again against her leg, and smiled happily to herself as she pressed softly against it.

Abruptly, she was suspended in the air above him, her feet resting on the bed and hair falling about his face, hands resting on his shoulders. Startled, she looked down at him. His eyes were aroused, slightly amused, slightly hooded as he smiled ruefully back up at her. He shook his head.

"I'm happy you feel good enough to want to try that again, Gem, but not with me." Sadness deepened in his eyes as he said it, and Gemma could see the stillness he always wrapped himself in resurfacing. She whimpered in anger and pain and tried to pull herself down to him, trying to erase the distance he was putting between them. Physical squirming had no effect. As ever.

"Let go," she growled.

He shook his head again. "You can't -,"

"Stop telling me what I can and can't do," she interrupted him brusquely. "You can't leave without me having some fun," she swallowed on the word, and ploughed on slightly more huskily,"- with you too - fair's fair."

He just looked at her. She saw the heat in his eyes, though, and her own sparkled playfully at him, as she ran light fingers over the smooth muscles of his chest under his t-shirt. He just lifted her effortlessly so that his chest was beyond her reach, at his full arm stretch, and she clutched at his forearms to steady herself. Damn. Then she smiled impishly down at him, and began to stroke her fingertips lightly, sensuously over the hairs covering the taut muscle in those forearms, eyes lingering on the pleasing defined planes. Mmm. Nice substitute.

He groaned, and tilted his head back, looking up at her headboard with a mixture of exasperation and arousal in his glinting eyes. "You know what happened last time," he warned her despairingly. Gemma's eyes focussed on the bulge tenting his trousers.

"That's why I want more, again. Oh please, Mac," she broke off, teasing forgotten.

"I can't hurt you again," he whispered.

"You won't - I'm sure you -." Her cheeks were red, burning, but she couldn't stop herself from pleading. She didn't care if he hurt her. Her blood was blazing through her veins as all the other feelings he had shown her combusted in her nipples, between her thighs, thrumming through her whole body. She wanted that again. She squirmed incessantly, trying, trying to get closer.

"You're too small - too fragile," he cut her off.

"I'm not fra-"

"No." He stated with finality.

This time she really growled, and stilled above him. They stared at each other. He really meant it. Incredulous.

Frustrated anger growing, holding his gaze, Gemma reached her feet down to stand on either side of his waist, and pushed herself upright, out of his hands. He let her go. They started at each other for a moment longer, and Gemma's expression hardened as she read the implacability in his. She snorted herself, and jumped lightly down to land on the floor by the bed.

Damn it felt good to be able to move without pain.

"I'm not as fragile as you think," she growled back at him.

"You're not as tough as you think," he responded tautly, sitting up and shifting to the side of the bed.

She'd had this all her life, and stepped in towards him, voice rising with her frustration, "You just believe that because I'm little -."

He cut her off, "Because you're human. Human's can't mate with us - they're not capable, not built for it."

Hah.

"We managed fine the other night," she growled back, the heat still racing through her blood increasing her anger. He was still saying No. She wanted Yes.

"Fine? You call those wounds fine?" his voice deepened with its own edge.

"You didn't have to bloody well bite me!" she stepped closer to him and glared into his eyes as she complained.

"I'm a wolf. I bite," he growled back, the glint in his eyes warning her.

She didn't care. The bite wasn't what she was really complaining about here. He didn't have to say no. She could take it. Dammit, it was worth it, especially with that healing. But he wouldn't listen.

"So stay human! It's not like you didn't manage it for six months around me before."

He closed his eyes. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I find you too attractive, sexually."

That one halted her. Hmmm. Ammunition. Then she saw the unyielding look in his eyes. And wondered how long he'd been aroused for by those girls last time before he'd given in to his instincts. Jealously sparked briefly. She didn't think she'd be allowed the same foreplay time. And she didn't have ten men and a handy spear. Grump.