Page 14 of To Run with the Wild Hunt

He made a low sound of acknowledgement. "I have never had a woman slide her fingers inside my body in such a way," he said with dark amusement, rubbing his hand across his throat as the tattoo reasserted itself—not the same tattoo, I noted, just in the same location. "Perhaps you will grant me some understanding for the physical appreciation of such a thing."

I could feel myself turning bright crimson at that phrasing, my cheeks going tight and hot. "I suppose having a detachable head gives you a lot of options for, um, physical appreciation."

"Is that a question?" Nuada asked, smirking at me.

"Is there an answer?" I countered, raising one brow.

"There are several," he said, rumbling the words. "Do you want them?"

I wasn't going to back down, blush or no. "Why not?"

Nuada leaned towards me, his pupils dilated and gaze direct. "Yes, I've sucked my own cock. Yes, I've fantasized about pleasuring a woman with my tongue while I fuck her." He licked his lips, a hungry expression on his face. "No, I've never had the opportunity to try it. I haven't had sex of any kind since I was beheaded. And thus, no, I've never had my throat fucked through the wound, nor have I truly had any great desire to try such a thing. But I could be persuaded, were it your pleasure."

I swallowed, hard, my skin hot and my pulse throbbing between my legs. My nipples tingled where they pressed against the fabric of the robe, and I was willing to bet they showed through even that heavy cloth.

I wasn't going to check, though, nor was I going to let my eyes wander down his body again. As much as I appreciated the sight, I didn't want Day One in the Ruined Palace to include getting railed by the Hunter up against his throne. That seemed a bit… excessive.

Behind us, Keilain sighed, the gusty loud exhale of a dog who wanted to stop getting ignored.

A tiny smile touched the corners of Nuada's mouth. "Your hound is tired of being left out, I think."

"We—" My voice cracked, and I had to wet my mouth, blushing again as Nuada lifted his chin and regarded me with a stern expression in his half-lidded eyes. "We weren't done exploring."

"Don't curb your curiosity for my sake," he said, the words almost gentle. "Explore my palace if it pleases you. Command my hounds and servitors as you will. Make requests of me, that I may have the pleasure of granting them."

"Would you take me home if I asked you to?" I asked, emboldened by his open-handedness. I didn't think he even could, but I was interested in the answer.

Nuada's cheek twitched as his jaw clenched, his pointed ears flattening against his head like an animal's. "I would be willing to bargain with you for such a request," he said, his voice emotionless. "It would be difficult to find a path that would return you to the time and place from whence I carried you away, and I have little reason to do so." His expression sharpened like a knife on a whetstone. "You would need to give me such a reason."

I leaned forward, meeting the challenge in his eyes. "What would stop you from simply carrying me off again if I did?"

"The cleverness of your bargaining," he purred at me, lowering his lashes. "Do you desire to meet me at the table?"

Keilain whined, the sound giving me pause. He was warning me away from baiting Nuada, I thought, and that was worth paying attention to.

I pursed my lips, thinking about it. "Not right now," I said, choosing my words carefully. "Maybe later."

"Very well," Nuada said, some of the predatory light leaving his eyes. He settled back in his throne, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the stone. "Enjoy your wandering, and don't step beyond the walls. It's dangerous here, and time slips past in strange ways." He sighed, his shoulders relaxing. "If we find our balance, time will flow the same for us no matter where we stand. But for now, remain near. I know the ways well, but not perfectly, and it would be a pity for you to starve in the wilderness or live your life in the span of a moment when I was but a breath away."

Yikes. I didn't like the sound of either of those particular fates. "I'll stay inside the walls."

He gave me a slight nod, and I hopped down off his throne, feeling unsettled. Keilain's head came up and ears perked, and when I tilted my head he jumped up and trotted over with a sighthound's springing gait to stretch at my side.

"Biiig stretch," I said in an affectionate tone, my tongue on autopilot.

Both men laughed, a sharp bark from Keilain and a low rumble of amusement from Nuada. That didn't leave me much dignity for an exit, so I just left, heading out of Nuada's throne room through a hole in the wall, Keilain following behind, keeping himself between me and the Hunter.

I didn't like that, and I didn't know why. Shouldn't I want protection from the man who'd tried to kill me?

A problem for another day, I told myself, trying to focus on walking so that I wouldn't hurt my bare feet. It's not like Nuada's chasing me down, anyway.

That bothered me, too, in an itchy sort of way. Since when were hunters content to sit and watch their prey walk away? Didn't he want me?

"He's strange," I murmured, putting my hand on Keilain's shoulder.

"Yes," he said, his voice soft. "He's the Master. I don't truly understand him." He fell silent for a long while, padding by my side, then said, "Do you like him better than me?"

I thought about that, rather than giving a knee-jerk response. He deserved a fair answer.

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