Isabel and the Wolf: (Part 2) (3 page)

“Please remove your underwear,” he said. Dismay threw an ice-bucket on Isabel’s desire.

“Hey – no – hold on a minute,” she almost shouted. “I’m not just going to get naked like this, in my own house. I mean, don’t you even want to see my underwear? Most guys are really into this kind of stuff, you know?”

“I’m not most guys, Isabel,” he said into her ear, in a soft voice that carried the slightest hint of a warning.

“No, you’re definitely not,” she said. “But don’t you ever take pleasure in undressing a woman? I mean, slowly, sensually?” Peter was silent for a moment.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he said eventually.

“Well, maybe you should,” Isabel said. Uncharacteristically for her, she stretched her body out on his lap, displaying it to him for best effect. He looked at her lingerie, as if seeing it for the first time. She watched as he took in the full curve of her cleavage in her red balconette bra, the tiny lace triangle of her panties, disappearing between her thighs, and the garters that sneaked under her panties, the ribbons running down the middle of each soft thigh and clipping onto her black stocking tops. She saw his pupils grow larger, and, as she adjusted herself on his lap, she realised they weren’t the only things growing. Her ass cheek settled right on his crotch and he made a small sound. Isabel allowed herself a secret smile.

“Your underwear is very sexy,” he said, at last. He ran his finger along the edges of the cups of her bra, dipping into the valley between her breasts. Then, he bent his head, putting his mouth there. His thumb dug into the soft flesh of the top of her thigh, brushing against the flimsy material of her panties. She sighed, savoring the sensation of him appreciating her in a far more sensual way than before. An ache was growing inside her, and she could feel herself beginning to get wet.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Bella,” he said. She loved the way he said “beautiful”, the soft way he pronounced an ‘r’. Isabel snapped out of her dreamy arousal.

“You’re not American, are you?” she demanded. Peter met her eyes.

“It took you this long to figure that out?” he said and laughed. It was a low, gravelly sound. “I’m from Romania,” he said. “Do you know where that is?”

“Somewhere in Eastern Europe. But I couldn’t tell you more than that.”

“It’s a very old country that touches the Black Sea in the east and reaches deep into Europe, full of beautiful mountains, sheltering ancient kingdoms. Our people speak the romantic tongue of faraway countries, like Italy and Spain.”

“It sounds amazing,” Isabel said, eyes shining. “I’d love to visit it.” His eyes widened briefly. Isabel frowned, unable to decipher his reaction.

“It’s home,” he said, and shrugged.

“But you must have been here a long time?” she said. “You barely have a trace of an accent.”

“Ah, not so long,” he said, and fell silent.

Isabel’s fingers played on the back of his neck, enjoying the softness of his skin, while she tried to work out what she could say to that. Peter made it easier for her by beginning to kiss her hard. His hands went around her waist and held her tight, his mouth ravishing hers with a bruising pressure. Isabel kissed him back with the same intensity, his urgency driving her crazy. His hardness pressed against her and she badly wanted him inside her. Her thighs slackened and Peter slipped his hand between them. She let out a groan at the contact, and he echoed it, a low sound close to her ear. From the heat she was feeling, she knew her panties were probably damp. Reaching behind, she put her hand on his crotch. He seemed ready, more than ready. She couldn’t wait any longer. She took hold of his zip and eased it down. But Peter pushed her hand away and zipped it up again. His other hand slid into her panties and touched her lightly. As his fingers came into contact with her aching clit, her hips bucked. Immediately, two of his long fingers slid inside, curving deeply into her. Isabel gasped and her vision darkened; it felt so good. She could feel how slick she was on his fingers, and her muscles clenched in little spasms as he moved them in and out. She let out a sound of frustration; his hands were incredible, but she wanted more. She began to wriggle on his lap, taunting him, deliberately bumping against his cock. He wasn’t biting though. Every time her hand wandered over to his zipper, he pushed it away again. At first it was like a tease, and then it started to kill her arousal. The final time she tried, he grasped her wrist in his hand.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, her voice wobbling. “Don’t you like me or something?”

“I do like you, Bella, and I do want to couple with you, but this isn’t the right place,” he said.

“My apartment isn’t the right place to
couple
?” Isabel turned her head as far as she was able and looked at him incredulously. “How is that even possible? And I’m starting to think that you may be bullshitting me, as it seems that your apartment wasn’t the right place to have sex either!” Peter turned his head away from her and Isabel thought she saw a flicker of embarrassment. She climbed off his lap and stood up, needing to create some physical distance from him.

He stood up too, towering over her, his eyes boring into hers. Isabel swallowed, a crazy idea running through her mind that he was considering whether to pounce and tear her to pieces. Somehow, she stood her ground. He stared at her with his yellow gaze and she fleetingly understood how a rabbit must feel in car headlights, every muscle poised to respond to its instinct to run, but somehow hypnotized by an overwhelming power. The atmosphere between them was so charged that when he began to speak, it was a shock.

“I was looking for a strong woman,” he said. “But you have surpassed even that.” He gave another deep, throaty laugh. “My requirements are very specific, I am aware, and I understand if you are unwilling to comply with them. In that case, we must say goodbye to each other. But, if you choose to surrender yourself to me, then you must do so fully, and with no further questions about any of my actions. Do you understand me?” Isabel nodded.

“Good. The choice is yours, and it is not one to be taken lightly. I will give you a few minutes to decide.” With that, Peter stood up and walked out of the room, in the direction of the front door.

Isabel watched him go, his large, agile figure, the bulge of his crotch clearly outlined in his black pants. All she could think was how much she wanted to be taken by him. The urge for him to dominate her was absolute. She didn’t wait. She rushed out of the room after him.

Peter was standing on her veranda, leaning against the entrance way and looking up at the sky.

“I’m ready,” she said simply.

Isabel couldn’t work out whether this was the stupidest or most exciting thing she’d ever done. She was in Peter’s car, something black and sleek, which she’d barely registered as she was being carried across to it. She was covered with some animal skins he’d given her, and, underneath, she was naked.

After she’d verbally signed away her autonomy to him, he’d walked her back into her house, and stripped off all of her underwear, smoothly, without fumbling over the catches of her bra or garter belt. Then, he went out to his car and brought her a pelt to wrap herself in, before lifting her up as if she weighed no more than a cat, and carrying
her out to his car.

As they drove through the dark roads of Silver City, Isabel was very aware that her nipples were erect from the soft, tickly friction of the animal fur. She also wondered if she was leaving a damp mark on the car seat. Strange as it was, it was ridiculously exhilarating to be naked in a car like this too, kind of natural and wild. She concentrated on adapting herself to her new role, and not asking where they were going. It was now her responsibility to accept the will of The Wolf without question. From time to time, a filament of panic ignited in her brain, a fear that Peter was planning to take her somewhere and murder her. But this was matched in intensity by the deep, throbbing ache between her legs that arose at the notion of her complete submission to him.

Peter didn’t speak or glance in her direction during the journey, although once, twice, he reached across and squeezed her thigh. The route was a familiar one, and Isabel wasn’t surprised as they headed onto the road to Black Peak City. She expected he was taking her back to his place. But, around half way along the road, Peter brought the car almost to a halt, before making a sharp turn left, into the forest. This wasn’t the broad road to the conservation center. Neither was it the logging track the sheriff had taken her on – which Isabel could tell was much farther along the road – but that same unfathomable blackness was ahead of them, and then all around them. Peter drove fast on the bumpy road, his low-slung car rebounding from one tire furrow to the next. Trees crowded into the windscreen, pale ghosts in the headlights. Isabel squeezed her eyes shut in terror, biting down on her lower lip so she wouldn’t make a sound.

Abruptly, the car came to a stop. She heard the driver’s side door opening and her eyes flew open. Peter leapt out and came around to her side. He opened her door, leaned in, and lifted her out, wrapped in the pelt. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, barely able to see him in the darkness. She had the curious sensation of being unable to recall what he looked like. His features seemed elongated, more angular than before. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils.

“You’re scared?” he said in surprise.

“No. Well, a little. It’s just – I was worried we’d have an accident in the dark,” she said, in a small voice.

“Oh.” He laughed. “Don’t worry – I could see perfectly well. And I know the road. You weren’t in any danger.” Isabel tried to laugh, but it came out as a dry, cracked sound.

“I’m sorry, we can’t drive here, as the path is too narrow, so I’ll have to carry you. It’s not far though,” Peter said. He reached inside the car and picked up some more pelts, before nudging the passenger door shut with his knee. Then he straightened up and, with Isabel in his arms, strode deeper into the woods.

They walked for what felt like a long time through dense forest, and Isabel let her body relax, and lolled her head against his shoulder. She was dimly aware that they must be deep inside the Gila Wilderness, and that, if he left her, she’d have no way of finding her way back out, not least
as she wasn’t wearing any shoes.

At last, they came to a small clearing, next to a huge, ancient-looking rock formation. Tall bull pines surrounded it, leaning into the center and forming a canopy beneath the sky. Isabel could only just make out the waning moon through their branches. There was a big, burned out fire in the middle of the area. Peter walked towards it and put her down gently at its edge. There was warmth coming off it; it couldn’t have gone out very long ago. He spread two of the skins on the ground.

“Stay here,” he told her. “I’m just going to collect some wood.” Silently, she sat down on the skins and wrapped the other one tightly around her body. She was shivering a little, although it wasn’t cold. The woods seemed to have captured the heat of the day and trapped it in their branches. There was a faint sound of running water in the distance and the hoots and rustles and distant howls of animals were everywhere. Isabel tried hard not to think what might be crawling around at her feet, and was again reminded of her nakedness.

Before long, Peter was back with an armful of logs. He arranged them over the burned-out fire and poked around in the middle of the embers. Soon, they began to glow, and some twigs caught light, and flames began to lick the log pile. Isabel watched with rapt attention, the fire warming her face and hands. The wood crackled, and the air was sweet with the scent of burning pine.

“That’s better,” Peter said. Isabel jerked out of the trance she’d fallen into and looked at him. His face was glistening with perspiration from his exertions.

“It’s so nice and warm,” she agreed and he smiled at her. He unfurled himself from his crouching position and unbuttoned his shirt, took it off, and threw it onto the ground. Then he unzipped his pants and pulled them off as well. Isabel gaped at him. He hadn’t been wearing any underwear, and he was now totally naked. But he was standing there, gazing at the fire like it was nothing. She looked sideways, through her lashes, at his cock and her mouth continued to hang open. It was bigger even than she’d expected, and it was semi-erect. He seemed so unself-conscious that she allowed herself to look at him more boldly. His body was incredible all over. The firelight picked out the taut muscles and sinews of his powerful chest and thighs. She realised she’d never been so turned on at the sight of a naked man before.

Heated in more ways than one, she slid the animal skin off her shoulders. Peter turned to her at the sudden movement. He bent down and pulled the pelt off her body completely, leaving her naked as well.

“You look beautiful,” he said. Isabel laughed.

“You’ve seen me naked already,” she said. He sat down next to her and pulled her to his body so her back was against him.

“True. But you look so much more beautiful when you’re out in nature.” Isabel smiled. Now his touch was gentle, and she rested her weight against his chest. It
was
romantic being outside like this, by the fire, far from civilization. Peter’s huge hand slid up to her right breast and cupped it, his thumb chafing her nipple. She felt the breath from his nostrils on her hair as he moved to her other breast, stroking it, kneading at it. Her nipples were so hard, and the ache between her thighs was becoming unbearable. He brought his mouth to her neck, his long tongue flicking from her collarbone to her earlobe. His teeth nipped at her soft flesh and she let out a cry, half pain, half arousal. His erection was pressing at the base of her spine. She was insanely turned on, badly wanting him to turn her on her back and enter her. His hand moved down, over her stomach, pausing
at the strip of hair she’d created.

“I like this,” Peter said. “Did you do it for me?” Isabel nodded, with a thrill of pleasure. He moved lower, cupping her pussy and lightly stroking her clit. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She could see his fingers getting slick from her wetness.