Page 51 of The Huntress

“Sorry, I promised you slow.”

Her lust-filled gaze, her parted lips with the tip of her tongue toying with the fullness of her bottom lip made him thump the back of his head on the wall.

“Woman, you’re killing me.” He tugged her toward him to wrap his arms around her, crushing her along the length of him.

With his hard edges contrasting against her softer curves, she clung to him. Closing his eyes, he sucked in a shuddering breath then spun and pinned her to the wall, his mouth crashing across hers. He claimed her soft lips, meeting her tongue with bold, masterful strokes. Splaying out his fingers, he embedded them in her braided hair, holding her captive. He loved the taste of her, how she overwhelmed him, and her evocative groaning as she raised her trembling hands to rest on his chest. How she dug her fingernails into his flesh through the fabric of his T-shirt as she sank into him.

“Callie.” His voice hoarsened, packed with emotions he couldn’t decipher.

“Gabe.” She offered her neck as he kissed along her jaw, shivering when he nibbled on her ear. All he could breathe, taste, smell, and feel was her. His senses saturated his thoughts. His will was no longer his own.

“We need to stop.” He drew away, resting his elbows on either side of her head. “Any more and I’ll take you, Callie.”

Her cheeks flushed pink, the glow traveling down her throat. “Then take me.”

He stilled, disbelieving his ears. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her fingers now digging into his shoulders. The sharp delicious pain tightened his nipples.

After scooping her into his arms, he carried her to his bedroom. She laughed—a throaty husky sound that made his balls spasm with need. He tossed her on the bed, and as she squealed in mid-flight, he commanded their clothes gone. The sight of her spread nude across his bed, with her flaming hair as her only adornment, made him still.

“You’re beautiful, Callie.” His voice was hoarse, but he couldn’t control his vocals, didn’t even try to.

A few days ago he’d known only his privacy, his need for peace and to be left alone. That was what he thought he wanted. Yet here lay a woman strong enough not to need him, nor to succumb to his pheromones, with the intelligence to know she had to remain with him. For her safety, of course. He was content to let her believe that was it for now when what she invoked was something he hadn’t felt for a woman in a long time…infatuation and affection. Deep within him lay the guilt of manipulating his way into her life. He dismissed it, choosing to believe it was for her safety when she meant more to him than a feeder.

He laid himself alongside her, resting a trembling hand on her taut stomach, but he didn’t care that he revealed his nervousness. Many lovers—both male and female—had laid beneath him, and the euphoric high of lust and companionship had exploded color into his mundane existence.

With Callie, he wanted more than sex. Something about her summoned his protective instincts urged him to claim her. He did so now, capturing her lips, moaning at the need that drove him. Her mouth parted for his intrusion, and his heart hammered in his chest.

Moon above, she was perfect.

He learned every nuance of her delicious mouth. Her dueling tongue told him more about her. She took what she needed, and she needed him. No matter the danger to herself, she might have walked away from him had she not felt the connection between them.

He paused, losing parts of his soul in the glorious green of her heated gaze. Each second stretched in time and embedded itself in his memory. The softness of her skin, the sweetness of her curls, her eyelashes fluttering shadows as she struggled to contain her responses and with those, came the sexiest sounds. One mewl from her spasmed his balls and skittered goosebumps down his spine.

She buried her fingers in his hair, scraping her nails across his scalp, causing him to shiver—one that rippled through him, heightening his senses. Her rich chocolate-laced scent filled the room, urging him to rush their first union.

He wouldn’t, though, not with his Callie.

Tonight would be her first conscious feeding, and he needed it to be perfect. He didn’t want her to fear what was going to be a necessary part of her life.

Fluttering his fingers down her neck to brush her breasts, he toyed with her nipples. She writhed beneath him, her need calling to him. She was honest to a fault, honest with her reactions to him—to his touch—hiding nothing from him. Her trust amazed him, calling forth a smile even as his heart blossomed. His breath hitched under that potent warmth of—dare he hope— happiness?

Unable to sift through the emotions she invoked within him, with lust clouding his mind, he rolled over her, pinning her to the bed. She spread her thighs, and his hips slid into a position as old as time. His erection brushed her heated essence, her need drenching him. He shuddered, wishing he could bury himself in her with one thrust.

But he couldn’t. This was her first time, and he wanted to make it as pain-free and pleasurable as possible. Relying on his century-honed patience, he held himself back, inching in at an achingly slow pace.

He feathered kisses down her neck, scraping his fangs teasingly. Her throat vibrated on a moan as she arched her back, thrusting her breasts into his adoring hands. Her body flushed, and goosebumps spread across her creamy skin. She tempted him to taste every inch of her, to trace the path down to where she wept for him. He leaned back to trail his fingers to the red curls at the juncture of her thighs, beckoning him to ecstasy.

The whimper that tore from her shook him to his core. He dipped his fingers into her moist lips, marveling at the scent, the heat, and the silkiness of her. She trembled, her breath jarring when he rubbed her swollen nub. Sliding a finger into her, he pumped her, flicking his thumb across the bundle of nerves. Her reaction was instantaneous. Her hips rose off the bed, gyrating hypnotically.

Had he known she was this aroused, this close, he might have eased her discomfort after her shower. It didn’t matter now—it meant he would be inside her sooner. Her breath came in gasps as he increased the rhythm, listening to the beat of her heart.

He admired her features, the toss of her head from side-to-side, her mouth parting to allow her tongue to dampen her bottom lip. Then she stilled, frozen on the cusp, and her heartbeat paused. With a single thumb flick from him, she screamed his name, coming apart in his arms, her body twitching, her nipples puckering as she found her release.

She was so beautiful, his Callie.

Surrendering her grip on his bedding, she floated down to reality. She spasmed around his finger as he withdrew it. Her mouth parted on a silentoh, but as he positioned himself to thrust into her, she moaned, her excitement echoing his.

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