SeducingtheHuntress Page 3

  Two good parents evidently didn’t make for a bad child.

  Only now he wasn’t so sure.

  “You can’t have it both ways,” he growled. “You can’t want to kill me and yet want me at the same time.”

  She flushed deeper red. “Perhaps I don’t want to kill you,” she said softly, almost defiantly.

  His whole body tingled with awareness. Dare he live in hope?

  He strode forward, the doe forgotten. Everything was forgotten but the woman before him. He cupped a hand under her chin and dragged her stare back up to meet his. “What is your name?” he rasped. “I need to know that much at least before—”

  “Before what?” she hissed.

  “Don’t deny what we both want.” His thumb scraped the fullness of her bottom lip and a little sigh escaped as she leaned inexorably closer. His voice softened. “Your mind might hate me but your body knows better.”

  She looked up. And even in the growing shadows he saw something raw flash in her stare, lightning behind a thundercloud. “My name is Isabella,” she said. “And you’re right, I do hate you.”

  “But right now you want me even more,” he said in a mocking drawl. His stomach sank while his cock ached almost beyond bearing.

  “Exactly.”

  No excuses, no pretending that he’d got it all wrong. Good. If that was the way she wished to play it, then so be it. He wouldn’t try to convince her otherwise. If she wanted his body, he’d give it to her. All too willingly.

  “Then touch what you were staring at,” he commanded hoarsely.

  She reached out a tentative hand and his already-engorged cock jerked and thickened further at her touch. He bit back a moan. Holy fuck, he was all of two seconds away from throwing her onto the ground and pounding into her like the savage animal he obviously was. His lips pinched together. At least such behavior would give her greater motivation to want to kill him again, without the guilt.

  All negative thoughts instantly shut down as her glossy lips parted and she focused on the task at hand—literally. She skimmed her fingertips over the rock-hard length of his shaft behind his pants, while her other hand cupped and fondled his swollen balls.

  Jesus. His head tilted back. His hips thrust forward then back again, grinding against her hand as she worked up and down his cock.

  Oddly enough it was her restraint that had his inner beast about ready to come out and growl with pleasure. All the buxom maidens he’d fucked over the years had never come close to awakening his beast. They’d had nothing on this slip of a woman. “That’s it, Isabella,” he encouraged thickly. “Now take off my pants.”

  He knew somehow that she wasn’t used to taking orders, but right then she seemed more than willing to follow his instructions. Hell, she was even a little excited by it going by her flushed face and rapid breathing.

  He’d long ago ditched the traditional rakkia robe that royalty were accustomed to wearing in favor of the rough commoner pants. It was much easier to lose oneself amongst humans, much less chance of drawing attention.

  His hands clenched and unclenched. Damned if he wasn’t glad that he’d decided to blend in. There was definitely something to be said about the feel of the rough material dragging over his thighs, then the touch of silken, soft feminine hands on his heated flesh as she pushed his pants downward and bared him to her eyes.

  His cock jolted, thick and strong, causing her mouth to drop wide open as she stared. Satisfaction coursed through him. No woman had ever had reason to complain about the size of his anatomy, but she took it to a whole new level of appreciation.

  A contortionist would have been impressed at the quick moves he made with his legs at impossible angles as he kicked off his clinging pants.

  “Suck my dick, Bella,” he rasped. “Taste me.”

  She didn’t need to be asked twice.

  His insides flamed as her hot, moist mouth moved over the engorged head of his dick. She sucked, her full, soft lips cushioning his shaft even while her tongue swirled hard across the girth.

  He swallowed convulsively. Bella—his Bella—wasn’t just an amazing horsewoman and skilled with a bow and arrow. She knew how to please a man too.

  A surge of sudden jealousy caused his teeth to grit together hard. Just how many men had she pleasured before him? Going by her little sighs of enjoyment, taking a man’s cock in her mouth wasn’t something she shied away from like many women apparently did.

  Her teeth scraped along the veined ridges of his cock. The exquisite pleasure-pain had his hips bucking forward and his breath coming out in a hiss. His balls grew perilously heavy. Oh lord. If he wasn’t careful he was going to empty into her mouth. And he didn’t want that yet, not for their first time together.

  Selfish bastard he might be but he wanted her to forget all her other lovers and remember only him and their time together.

  He had to stop her before it was too late.

  He placed outspread hands on her head. But instead of stilling her, he dragged out the wondrous sensation by exerting pressure on her up-and-down head movements as she suctioned him. Not even half a minute later he was on the knife edge of no return. “No more,” he growled.

  She released him and looked up. Her tongue edged her already moist lips and his mind went crazy imagining her without his shirt on and with her breasts uncovered and heavy with need, her nipples pebbling under his stare.

  “My turn now,” he said thickly.

  He proffered her a hand and pulled her onto her feet. Not that he’d ever complain about her being on her knees. He helped her undress, being extra careful with her pants and the wound he’d spent much time cleaning and stitching. When she was bared to his eyes his cock twitched, his seed again threatening to spill. Goddess she was beautiful, exquisite. He bent and lifted her into his arms. No more time to waste.

  In just a couple of strides he was at the bed of cushions and laying her down. Kneeling between her spread legs, he straddled her thighs over his shoulders and bared her sweet little cunt with its blonde thatch of hair to his hungry eyes. His breath stalled. He wanted—needed—to lick the pink flesh of pussy until she was begging for more.

  He could only be glad that the coals that’d once been a fire gave off enough light in which to see her. He didn’t dare frighten her by making use of his nightmix vision—his red pupils—to see her in detail. Even with his formidable willpower he didn’t know if he had the strength to walk away from the woman he wanted to thoroughly fuck.

  His nostrils flared at the musky scent of her pussy. A purr rumbled into life in his chest. He didn’t try to stop the sound. Instead he parted her labia and bent his head, mouthing her tight little clit and allowing the vibrations to pleasure her flesh.

  She gasped, stiffening. But then she opened herself wider still, offering herself to him as though a feast set out for a starving man.

  Triumph surged right along with lust. She wasn’t so immune to his big cat after all. It was no small effort to semi-evolve his tongue to its nightmix form until it was the texture of rough bark. He licked right along her taut bundle of nerves, dragging hard. Over and over until she was gasping incoherent words, then climaxing with tight little convulsions.

  He lapped at her essence, all but purring at the exquisite taste of her. She shuddered beneath him a couple more times, his oral skills clearly to her liking.

  “Oh my god,” she managed long moments later, her voice breathy and wondrous. “I had…I had no idea.”

  Bells rang in the back of his mind. But he wasn’t afraid to admit that his brain was functioning in a completely different head right then. He wanted to fill her cunt with his hard cock. He wanted to pour his seed into her pussy until she was dripping wet. He wanted to possess her like no one had possessed her before.

  Leaning over her with his weight on outspread hands on either side of her head, he slanted his mouth over hers. Heaven help him, her lips were soft pillows that he wanted to pillage and plunder. He pulled back long enough to whispe
r hotly, “Taste yourself on me.” Then his mouth was on hers again and he was deepening the kiss until she was all but sucking on his tongue, greedy for the flavor.

  His cock throbbed, his gut twisting with need when he finally pulled back and wrenched off his wet shirt. She half-sat to touch and explore his bared skin. Pleasure skittered through his nerve endings before centering at his cock, her little sighs of admiration only magnifying his lust tenfold.

  Goddess give him strength, did she not know how many times a big cat, even in its human form, could fuck a woman? He could easily keep her up half the night, slamming into her pussy over and over, and making her forget every man she’d ever been under.

  A tight groan morphed into a possessive growl when he moved over her again, the head of his dick pressing between her thighs.

  “Wait!” Her eyes glinted in her flushed, beautiful face. “I told you my name but you…you never told me yours.”

  He felt the cords stand out on his neck as he restrained the urge to thrust into her wet, welcoming cunt. “You never asked,” he said hoarsely. “Reuben,” he announced in the next breath, before he pushed deep inside her.

  She cried out sharply, her inner muscles tensing.

  He froze. Dear lord, he was mistaken, surely? His voice came out harsh. “You’re a virgin?”

  Chapter Four

  Reuben’s stunned expression was all too easy to make out, even in the growing darkness. His reaction might have been comical in any other situation. But the sharp pain of his entry soon gave way to an even deeper throb of desire. He wouldn’t dare pull out of her now!

  Right then she didn’t even care that she wanted to trick him into falling in love with her—or at least in lust with her! She’d missed out on sex for too many years already, what with all the halfway eligible men too afraid of Jacob, her eagle-eyed father, to consider lying with her.

  Her throat convulsed as she swallowed hard. “Yes, I am a virgin,” she finally managed to answer, her breasts rising and falling sharply.

  His brow furrowed, his eyes piercing hers. “You should have told me.”

  She narrowed her eyes in what she hoped was a glare, though passion still held her in its grip. “Spare me the lectures.” She got enough of them from her father. She blew out a heavy breath. “Just…fuck me, Reuben. Please!”

  Having him as her lover went way beyond anything strategic, no matter how much she might wish otherwise. Right then nothing else mattered other than the fact she wanted him, the man who’d awakened her body.

  A bead of sweat formed on his brow, his jaw locking tight at what appeared to be a battle of his conscience.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  Oh no you don’t!

  She writhed beneath him, her breasts sliding over his slick chest, her tight pussy grinding along his cock. His eyes flashed. Then he gave in with a groan, rocking carefully in and out of her until her inner muscles fully accepted his length and his strokes became longer and harder.

  And nothing else mattered but the pleasure that quickly intensified between them.

  Holy shit.

  Sex was incredible, mind-blowing.

  And she’d been missing out on it for too many years!

  In one smooth motion he clasped her hips and pushed back onto his knees, bringing her with him. Her legs instinctively hooked around his waist. His eyes glittered and he thrust deep.

  All breath stalled in her throat. The angle was…delicious! At his next stroke, something came undone inside her and a wave of ecstasy hit her hard. Her neck arched back and she cried out his name. Bliss threw her into the heavens to soar on the highest of highs before she floated slowly, luxuriously back to earth.

  Still she was aware of the muscle in Reuben’s jaw that locked as he pulled almost all the way out. Then he pushed home deep and his voice joined hers in a long groan, his warm seed pulsing inside.

  She closed her eyes, drinking in the glow that infused her whole body. She was warmth and sated bliss. She was contented, boneless putty. And she didn’t want that feeling to ever end.

  She didn’t even try to gather her scattered wits when he gently disengaged. Yes, she was aware of the loss, but her eyelids stayed firmly closed.

  “That was…amazing,” she murmured, before promptly surrendering to the layers of sleep dragging her under.

  Isabella woke to the sound of a startled cry still in her ears and to the deep feeling something wasn’t right. She bit her bottom lip, thankful for the full moon outside her window that lit up all but the corners of her room. She squinted into the far shadows, hearing nothing but thick silence and the harsh drumming of her pulse in her ears.

  You’re eight now, a big girl. Don’t be such a baby!

  She forced suddenly stiff muscles to cooperate, the floor cold underfoot as she crept from her bedroom and slowly opened the door. An owl hooted. She started then giggled nervously. A bad dream had woken her, that was all. No doubt the same dream her daddy said she had most every night, ever since her mummy had left them and gone to heaven a couple of years ago.

  Her daddy’s snuffling and occasional loud snore filtered under the crack of his bedroom door. She released a small breath. She wanted to wake him, except her bad dreams had woken him up most nights, making him look worn out, his eyes dull. She squared her shoulders. No, he needed his sleep.

  A grunt followed by a dull thud turned her attention downstairs. The faintest glow from the dying coals of the fire in her father’s library pushed away all but the most stubborn of night’s shadows.

  She moved downstairs on silent feet, head cocking to one side at the muffled cry that sounded all too familiar. Her step quickened, right along with her pulse. “Benj?” she called out.

  At the pervasive silence she hurried to the open door of the library. And abruptly froze at what her eyes saw and her brain couldn’t accept.

  Her twin brother swayed on his feet in front of the fireplace, his beloved bow hanging limply at his side—as if even the ability to protect himself was beyond him. Even in the dull light she could see the blood all over him, all over the floor. Vicious claws had torn his clothes and much of his torso to shreds.

  She put a hand to her mouth as a sudden growl shook the thick, metallic-tainted air. Liquid warmth puddled between her feet. She scarcely noticed. She was unable to speak, to scream, as the red eyes of a nightmix appeared from the gloom on the opposite side of the room.

  Somehow she knew the beast was playing with her brother, prolonging his torment. Goddess help him, he was just a child!

  She forced her legs to move and stepped into the room. She’d help her brother. She’d find something to fight off the nightmix. Otherwise she and Benj would join their mother in heaven with the angels.

  A floorboard creaked under her feet. Her brother’s attention turned to her. He lifted his head about the same time the nightmix turned its cold, evil stare her way. “Isabella, no,” he croaked. “Run! Go! Get out of here!”

  She broke through layers of sleep, her breath coming in gasps and her pulse floundering with terror. A fire crackled and spat with warmth. The fresh scent of pine overlaid with something…metallic.

  Her eyes cracked open to full daylight.

  And her nightmare continued.

  A high-pitched scream—hers—dissolved into choking terror before she scrambled backward. Away from the man, the monster with blood on his hands.

  Nightmix.

  Her spine hit an immovable wall. She pressed fisted hands to her cheeks, scarcely aware of the rivulets of tears though everything around her became blurred and distorted. “Stay away from me,” she choked.

  But suddenly he was crouched beside her, his face appearing all kinds of gentle despite his kill. “Easy,” he soothed. “Shh. It’s okay. You had a nightmare, but you’re awake now.”

  She shook her head and hissed, “Murderer!”

  A shadow dulled his bright eyes. He leaned back. “Not unless killing a deer for our dinner is considered a crime?”


  She gulped in a breath, reality taking slow hold of her composure and pushing her nightmare to the far reaches of her mind, where it belonged. She hiccupped, her tear-blurred vision moving away from him to the meat on the wooden table in the far corner. Fresh game meat, nothing more. Her voice quivered. “I’m sorry.” She lifted a hand. “I thought—”

  “Never mind,” he interjected. Studying her face, he released a slow breath. “What happened to you to make you distrust so much?” he asked.

  Her vision blurred as terrible memories threatened again to resurface. “I can’t…I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He stood and moved away for a moment to wash his hands in a bowl on the table before drying off with a clean towel. And all the while his thoughtful stare stayed with her. When he returned and crouched back to her level, he said huskily, “You just relived the worst part of your past with me. Talking about it isn’t going to make things any worse.”

  She closed her eyes for a second, feeling as though she was teetering on the edge of a great cliff and his hands were within reach. But was he there to push her off or save her from a fall?

  Nevertheless, when she started to speak the words rushed out, as though eager to be free from her mind. “I was eight when a noise woke me up. I went downstairs and found my brother. He was c…covered in his own blood.” She swallowed. “He was trying to fend off a nightmix with his bow and arrow. But he was only eight too, he…he didn’t have a chance.”

  “And you blame yourself?” Reuben asked gently.

  She nodded before pressing a fist to her mouth and biting into a knuckle. Finding composure, she dropped her hand and said softly, “I went into the room to help him fight but he screamed at me to run and…and I did.” She shook her head. “I was a coward.”

  Reuben’s eyes flashed. “Your brother would have escaped too if he could. Not even an adult would face a nightmix alone.”