Page 52 of The Huntress

He slid into her wet sheath, amazed at the silkiness, at the strength with which she grasped his length and tugged him deeper into her. His nipples tightened, tingles of anticipation traveling along the length of his erection. She grasped his upper arms, even as she wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him on, pulling him into her core.

His orgasm rushed toward him with too much enthusiasm, having not allowed himself the enjoyment of being in her. After what he’d endured the past few days, he didn’t want it to end soon. He wanted to savor every one of her unconscious reactions. She incited him to lose his mind, to sacrifice his control. While he sucked her nipple, his control snapped. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the swell of her breast, and at the final thrust into her, seconds away from an implosion, he bit her.

Dark chocolate greeted him as he shattered in her. Her channel fluttered around his sensitized nerves and urged him into a second implosion. Her sheath milked him, shooting shivers through him, his body twitching at the subsiding euphoria. Yet it didn’t leave him completely, it hovered in anticipation of a third release.

He licked her wound closed and fell to his side, taking her with him. He stayed buried within her, kept her sprawled across his chest. Every move she made burned into his memory—her fingers brushing his skin, her gasps as she tried to catch her breath.

“I’ll need you to take some of my blood, Callie, love,” he whispered. He couldn’t rouse the energy to raise the volume of his voice.

“Okay,” she said before she kissed his nipple. Her touch burned him, leaving an invisible imprint on his sensitive skin. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t have your sharp teeth.”

His chest swelled at her concern, at her easy acceptance of what he required of her, and at her trust. He held up a finger, extended his fingernail, and sliced at his chest, above his left nipple.

She squeaked at the scarlet fluid that oozed out of him. Without encouraging her further, she dipped her head and licked the cut. She released a throaty moan and latched onto him, sucking. The tug of her mouth reached down to his balls as she toyed with his nipple.

He gripped her hips and pumped into her with a desperation that bordered on insanity. She gasped and released his skin to arch her back, thrusting her hips to meet his. He sat up, wrapped both arms around her, buried his face in her neck and exploded again.

Falling back, he took her with him, keeping her trapped against him.

“Hot damn,” She mumbled into his neck. “That was amazing,” she said with a sigh.

She dipped a finger into his parted mouth and traced his saliva across his wound. His heart lurched at this gesture. Warmth of another kind flooded his chest, and the ability to breathe escaped him.

“I’m not your prisoner, nor your feeder…how about sex slave?”

He chuckled—the unexpected humor surprised him—merging with the warmth in his chest to form…hope.

She giggled. “I ought to arrest you for having sex with a minor.”

“Unavoidable,” he said as he kissed her temple. “How old are you, Callie?”

“Almost twenty-nine,” she said as she traced a pattern on his shoulder with a fingertip. “You’re the sexiest geriatric I’ve ever met.” She grinned before leaning in to brush her lips across his.

He claimed her mouth for his own, deepening the kiss. He couldn’t help himself—he adored the taste of her.

Chapter Eighteen

EARTH SHATTERING

CalliekissedGabe’schest,unable to resist the temptation to do so. Her body hummed with contentment. Lethargy tugged at her, beckoning her to close her eyes and enjoy being in his arms. The euphoria from his previous feedings was enticement enough, and now, with her new knowledge, she could understand why folks went crazy when they weren’t getting laid.

As lovers went, she couldn’t have asked for a better one. Not that she had any experience to judge, but her deflowering had been less painful than she’d expected. He’d been attentive and gentle, even when he’d bitten her.

She trailed her fingers across his skin,. He twisted to kiss her temple. Something cinched her heart. She drew in a shuddering breath. It felt as if she stood on a cliff, a tempestuous wind pushing her toward the edge.

So much had happened that she struggled to process it. Val’s healing was forefront, but a huge part of her couldn’t believe she was well, almost as if she needed x-rays to prove it.

And here she lay, in the arms of herfuturehusband.

She stilled, shutting her eyes, hoping to hide her inner turmoil from Gabe’s observant gaze. She couldn’t fall apart. She wasn’t ready yet. No, not to face the loss of Dad or what she’d smothered during Val’s sickest days.

She drew in a slow, soft, and long breath. Was she accepting her fate too easily? Had there been a way to avoid it all? Had she been impatient to comprehend the ramifications of her decisions?

His arms tightened around her, one hand caressing her back to grip her hip. It felt incredible to have someone hold her, as if she was no longer alone and facing the world with fists raised. Would Dad be proud of her, of her choices? She fought the tears, cursing herself for her weakness. But she couldn’t stop them from slipping past her lashes, her defenses.

Sharp pain speared through her, and she gasped. She squeezed her eyes closed, but he shifted. She peeked at him through her lashes. He brushed his fingers along her jaw, then gathered her tears with the pad of his thumb. He said nothing, just engulfed her in his arms. His warmth, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek where he trapped her against his chest, offered more comfort than he could ever know.

Since the floodgates opened, she let the tears flow but smothered any sobs welling up her throat. A huge part of her wanted to cry like a toddler, but she was still Callie—still the strong one. His little fortress, Dad had called her.

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