Hunter Betrayed, page 6
part #1 of Wild Hunt Series
She lifted her hand and stared at the mark there. I give myself freely to you, my Harley. I ask nothing of you in return. Take me, treasure me or walk away, but know I will always be yours. She curled her fingers and peeked at him from under her lashes.
“What did you do to me?”
He closed his eyes. You know the answer. When you realize it, I’ll be here waiting for you.
She backed away without promising anything. No tug or invisible hand stopped her. She climbed the stairs and ran, but she feared it wouldn’t do any good. She’d been marked, in more ways than one, and the stamp he’d left on her heart might be the one to destroy her, once and for all.
Chapter Six
Harley sat on a thick quilt in the middle of her living room floor. Sunlight peeked around the edges of the heavy drapes. It didn’t bother her. She’d trained her body to sleep in full sunlight without fear of being woken by the glare. Sometimes she did so just to add a little color to her pale skin. With her platinum hair, she often looked washed out. Today, she didn’t want to leave the shades open and risk a redcap seeing the mark on her palm. Unlikely, but Calan’s warning forced her to take extra precautions.
The triple locks on all the doors were secured. The windows were bolted and she had her dagger and a gun within reach. The small revolver wouldn’t kill a redcap or a sluagh, but it’d slow them down. She’d learned to embrace everything that gave her an advantage.
Assured she was as safe as she’d get, she cradled her hand and stared at the swooping X, though the description didn’t quite fit the symbol. The lines didn’t bisect at the middle. The curved edges overlapped so a small circle formed at the center. She traced them as she’d done countless times since she’d left Calan’s prison. No tingles accompanied the exploration nor did she feel the flare of the taint she carried.
Eyes closed, she reached inside herself—something she’d learned normal people couldn’t do after a few awkward moments with her family—and examined the evidence of Calan’s touch. A silky, shimmering second skin wrapped around her heart and spread out to coat every organ and vein.
She examined it from all angles, then used a metaphysical hand to stroke it. Warm and alive, the glaze pulsed with life. The scent of a smoky campfire wafted around her with the simple stroke. Calan. She could taste him on her tongue too. She pulled back, more confused than ever. The intimate connection to him shouldn’t be possible.
“What did he do to me?”
Let me shield you from the taint your father left on you. His words echoed in her head.
Realization struck. She gasped.
He’d imprinted himself on her, for lack of a better term. That was why she could feel him even with the distance separating them.
“He saved me.”
Or started the process, according to him, and now awaited her return to finish it. By making love to me? She shook her head at the wanton thought but very much hoped it was the truth. The romantic aspect of it brought a breathy sigh to her lips.
She tugged off her clothes and tossed them on the couch. The cool air in her house did nothing to ease the flush sensitizing her skin. The desire she’d experienced in Calan’s arms hadn’t eased in the hours since she’d left him. If anything, it had gotten worse. Her aroused body begged for release.
The fantasies she’d indulged in for years all centered on her ghost man. Seeing him, touching him and finding pleasure at his hands had proved her dreams paled in comparison to the real thing. Knowing firsthand what it felt like to embrace her carnal urges, she craved more.
She curled her hands and fought the desire to give herself a little relief from the raging needs swamping her. It wasn’t right. While she sat in her living room, naked and aroused, he hung from chains in pain.
She’d caught glimpses of torture from his mind when he’d invaded hers. Images of burning alive, drowning and being repeatedly stabbed had flashed across her eyes. He’d yanked the pictures away as if he hadn’t meant for her to see them, but she suspected it was part of his suffering, what he’d alluded to enduring for centuries. Real or illusionary? She couldn’t be sure but his anxiety of the scenes had resonated through her.
She wanted to run back to his side and release him, exactly as he’d ordered her. She resisted. Caution. The word had saved her too many times for her to ignore her golden rule because she lusted for a man who might condemn her to the same torment he suffered.
No, if what she suspected held true, he wouldn’t be able to harm her without hurting himself too. She carried a piece of him much the same way she did the infectious taint from her father.
One day. She’d take the reprieve he gave her, fulfill her obligation to Ian tonight and return to Calan. She’d survived almost a decade on her own. One more day wouldn’t matter. When she did get him alone… She shuddered at the rush of desire tightening her nipples and skipping tingles along the walls of her sheath.
God, she wanted him packed inside her body. The orgasm he’d ripped from her had stoked her desire. The release, though mind-blowing, had only set her needs to simmer. She wanted more, everything he could give her. She craved the thick length of his cock pounding into her core. Her sheath clenched on air, the emptiness reminding her of what she’d turned her back on when she’d fled his prison.
Unable to resist any longer, she skimmed her fingers down the center of her body, starting at her upper chest, between her breasts to her bellybutton. The slow stroke quickened her breath. Nearly every night, she’d brought herself to orgasm by fantasizing about her ghost man. She had pictured what she’d thought his body looked like, imagined how his kiss would feel and how his voice in her ear as he made love to her would sound. Nothing had prepared her for the man she’d encountered when she’d walked into his cell.
He oozed sexuality. Everything about him appealed to her—his hard body, the harshness of his features and the gravelly growl punctuating his words. His scent, however, sent her up in flames. She’d always loved the smell of a campfire. Calan captured the soothing and tantalizing fragrance and infused it with life.
She conjured his real image. A wash of arousal coated the lips of her sex. The thump to her clit demanded his touch and the quivering of her inner muscles begged for his hard length to convulse around. She slid her fingers to the smooth skin of her sex. A moan escaped with the first caress along the edge of her cleft. The amount of wetness awaiting her shocked her. It shouldn’t have. She’d hovered on the edge of a spontaneous orgasm all night.
Another slow trace of her opening and a whimper fell from her mouth. She squirmed and fought the urge to thrust her fingers into her core. With the way she responded whenever Calan had starred in her fantasies, she knew it wouldn’t take long to careen into ecstasy. She didn’t want to rush into the one-sided bliss. After learning what her phantom lover looked like, she wanted to pretend he was here, touching her.
For her entire adult life, she’d been half in love with him. Or at least in lust with him. Either way, no other man had been able to compete with the release she found by picturing Calan’s eyes and touching herself.
She conjured his eyes first, the thick swoop of his lashes against the tanned skin of his face. His stark cheekbones, long straight nose and strong chin added to the image she’d always imagined. Full lips softened his face. When he’d parted his mouth and invited her kiss, he’d looked like an incubus, one who’d take her to the highest levels of passion possible.
With two straightened fingers, she breached her opening. Slowly, oh so very slowly, she pushed them in until her palm met her wet lips. A twist of her wrist and a curl of her fingers and she tortured herself. In and out, she moved them in controlled strokes. At the end of each thrust, she swiped her fingertips back and forth over the hidden section that sent whipping pulses through her core. A shuddered groan escaped. Mini waves danced up the walls of her sheath.
She had to push deep to reach her G-spot. Calan wouldn’t have a problem. His long, slender and slightly roughed fingers guaranteed he’d take her over the edge with a few swipes. One kiss and he’d stimulated her in inconceivable ways. She’d never experienced an orgasm like the one he pulled from her. When he got her naked, she’d combust.
She added her thumb to the mix, rubbing her clit and flicking the button until it hardened. Each brush against it clenched her womb. Another thrust and the muscles of her sheath tightened around her fingers. Ripples massaged the two digits she moved in and out. They didn’t come close to filling her the way Calan’s cock would. She’d felt the straight, thick length when she’d ground against him. He’d be a tight fit, maybe even too much for her, but dear god, it’d be fun trying to take him all, every way she could.
Saliva filled her mouth at the thought of swallowing his cock. She loved oral sex, often needed to feel the power of control it gave her in order to get in the mood for anything else. Making a guy moan and beg for release simply did it for her. After seeing Calan in person, however, she feared she’d never be able to touch another man.
Take me, treasure me or walk away, but know I will always be yours.
Another soft whimper crawled up her throat. She wanted him. God, she’d craved him for so long. Why had she walked away? He’d saved her, given her a piece of himself without asking for anything in return. No, that wasn’t quite true either. He’d asked for her to release him so he could make love to her.
Tears welled in her eyes, partly from the pleasure building in her body but mostly from the emotion stripping her raw. He’d been hers since that fateful night.
Her salvation. Her dream lover. Her hope.
She stretched out on the thick comforter and thrust harder, faster. Spread wide, she worked herself to the point where her orgasm hovered just out of reach.
She added a third finger in an attempt to push herself over the edge. Her palm smacked her swollen lips. Her breathy moans filled the room. More, she needed more. With her free hand, she grabbed her breast. The rough squeeze did nothing. She pinched a nipple and arched her back on the whipping sparks skipping over her skin. Not enough. Dear god, it wasn’t enough. She needed…
“Calan.”
His woodsy, campfire scent wafted around her. She dragged in a breath and filled her lungs with the air she suddenly had to have inside her. She’d die without it. The silken wrap he’d left on her heart and body pulsed with his heartbeat. It echoed inside her and mixed with hers until both raced in a rapid cadence. She squirmed over the soft blanket. Surrounded inside and out by silk, she tingled. Every inch of her sensitive body craved attention. She yearned for his touch, only his.
She choked on shaky sob. “Need you, Calan.”
The warmth of his breath on her cheek popped her eyelids open. A wavering image of his face hovered above her. The eyes she loved still showed a blurry band of darker blue around his pupil.
She reached for him. Her fingers scattered his image. “Don’t leave me.”
Never, my Harley. His form gained depth yet not dimension. She could see the wall behind him. Picture me and I can come to you for a little while.
“Yes, please.”
She visualized his gorgeous body, recalled the feel of his hard muscles under her fingertips and the thump of his heart against her palm. Colors added to the rapidly expanding image crouched next to her. He wore the ancient clothes she’d seen him in hours ago. The ugly black pants and brown shirt stretched over his body. She took in his bulging biceps and thick thighs folded next to her hip. Her breath escaped in a long rush.
“Oh god.”
He leaned over her and pressed his fingers to her cheek. “Not a god, only the bastard child of one.” He dragged the roughened tips across her jaw. “Have you figured it out yet?”
She nodded and he moved his featherlight caress to her neck. “You left a piece of your…” She fumbled for word to describe the silky sheen lovingly embracing her body and soul. “You shared your essence with me.”
A small, pleased smile graced the lips she wanted on hers. He took her hand, lifted it and traced the swooping mark as she’d done. He didn’t stop at the end of the line, though. He continued the slow trace over her palm. She followed the path of his finger. Realization struck. It wasn’t an X, but the center of two overlapping circles. He brought her hand gently to his mouth and placed a kiss on her skin.
A shuddered sigh escaped her lips. He glanced at her. The lust reflected in his eyes stopped her heart. “Not completely, but I will. Then my body will act as your shield and I will protect you.”
She waited for the doubt to come. It never did. Only anticipation filled her at how he’d finish saving her.
“And you’ll do that by,” she swallowed hard, “fucking me?”
He frowned and the brush of butterfly wings danced through her. She had the sensation of him rifling through her mind. His eyes widened. She used a metaphysical hand and pushed against his invading exploration. The tickling touch of his presence retreated immediately.
“What are you doing?”
He straddled her, took her other wrist and tugged both over her head. Stretched over her naked body, he braced himself with a hand next to her achy breast. “I’ve been locked away for nearly a millennium. Much has changed in the time I’ve been imprisoned.”
He lifted his gaze and scanned the room. Again his eyes widened as if he’d just noticed his surroundings. Such a small thing, but seeing the shock displayed there pleased her. She’d been his entire focus when he’d materialized, not the living room with its slightly older electronics and plush, expensive furnishings. He wouldn’t appear so surprised otherwise.
He focused on her. “I didn’t touch your memories. You must willingly share those. I merely took the knowledge of this era from you.”
A long moment passed where they watched each other, two strangers on the verge of becoming so much more. The full impact hit her, left her a little shaky inside but not anxious. No, excitement sped her pulse.
She licked her lips, already envisioning what they’d do together. “So, am I right?”
He slid his hungry gaze to her breasts. The points stood erect and the sheen to her skin betrayed how hot she’d gotten from touching herself.
“Oh yes, I’ll fuck you, my Harley. Sometimes hard and fast. Other times so damn slowly you’ll beg me to fill you up.” He met her eyes. “I’ll take you so often and in so many ways you’ll want me to be the center of your world as you are now mine.”
He released her wrists and covered one breast with his hand. The hard point pushed against his calloused skin and a jolt of electricity raced down her spine. He captured the tip she’d teased minutes ago. The small pinch arched her back.
“You like?”
She flicked her gaze from his long fingers holding her nipple to his face and nodded. “Do it again.”
One corner of his mouth rose. He rolled the tip. She gasped. Another tug clenched her core.
“You please me, Harley. I can’t wait to watch that look pass over your face when I fill your…” The smile giving him a roguish look turned wicked. “When I fill your sheath.”
The low growl to his last word tightened her inner muscles. She whimpered.
“You do want me to ram my cock inside you and make you convulse over my rigid length,” he ran the tip of his tongue over his upper lip, “don’t you?”
“I…I…” She couldn’t get the words out.
He released her hands and sat back so he knelt between her thighs. Her attention shifted from the desire stamped on his face to the long length of his erection molded by his pants.
“Touch it.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. She pushed up, spreading her legs with the move and exposing herself to him. The muttered curse and shaky breath he released told her he liked the view. It pleased her but her focus centered on the rigid cock she couldn’t wait to feel pierce her.
She skimmed her fingertips along his hidden penis. The thin material covering it allowed her to make out the veins and the ridge around the head. She rubbed her thumb over the damp tip. Oh yeah, she wasn’t the only one drowning in lust. A few strokes, the tightness of her throat and he’d erupt.
The thought stirred her needs. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and gripped the leather strap around his waist. It would feel so good to have his silken-steel cock slide over her tongue. She tugged the cord. It didn’t budge.
He grasped her wrist. “You can’t pleasure me.”
“Why not?”
A sigh fell from his lips. “I’m not really here, Harley. I merely wanted you to feel what the sight of your body has done to me.”
“But—”
“You’ve connected with me and brought my image close. I’ve filled it with life, but it’s draining to hold onto the solid shape. I won’t be able to maintain it much longer, nor can I change it from the one I hold back in my prison.”
She sat back on bent legs and sifted her fingers through his hair. Silky, soft strands tickled her fingertips. She leaned close and pressed her nose to the crook of his neck. His rich, woodsy scent filled her lungs. She touched the tip her tongue to his skin. The flavor of salt and Calan ignited her taste buds.
“You feel real.”
He mimicked her pose, hands in the mass of bouncy curls she could never tame. “I am. I’m just not here. You left me alone in my own personal hell.” He leaned closer and buried his face in her hair. “I’d always thought my punishment the worst I could imagine. I was wrong. This, my flower, is hell. Wanting you, needing you and not being able to love you.”
She held him close, his words rocking her, but the rational side of her had to rear its ugly head. “How can you say that? You don’t know me.”
He used his nose to brush a lock of hair away from her ear. The warmth of his breath fanned her sensitive skin. “I know enough. My choice is made, Harley. I am yours. I won’t take it back. Soon, I won’t be able to.”
She stiffened. The finality in his tone left her wary. “What do you mean?”
He captured her earlobe and gave it a little tug. She shivered, automatically moving closer. He nibbled on the tender flesh. The cock pressed between them jerked. “I’ve already told you what you need to know.”
