Hunger Untamed H3 (11 page)

Read Hunger Untamed H3 Online

Authors: Dee Carney

Tags: #Poseidon DPGroup.org

BOOK: Hunger Untamed H3
9.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Wasn’t the fucking contract proof he wanted to help her? What else did she want?

He’d complimented her growing skill, but it wouldn’t be enough. She’d come a long way, but between her weak human body, an illness sapping her strength, lack of experience, along with a million other cons outweighing the pluses, she simply
could not do it
. He could ply her with instruction for the next twenty years, and maybe she’d come along well enough to fight a younger vampire. Sage kept himself surrounded by bodyguards and not only that, had risen to a position of power because he had to be ruthless in some sort of way. Cunning alone gave him a huge advantage over Lucy. She had to know and understand that already, right?

He visually followed her progress into the cabin before glancing up, locating the position of the moon. Funny how every night with her ate up the hours in the most pleasant of ways. The nights he wasn’t on a job had always moved at a glacial pace, but with Lucy, he wanted to beg the sky for more time. She kept him from remembering, from noticing the severe lack of vitality in his life.

Wasn’t that a bitch? If he wanted more of her time, more of her soothing presence, it probably meant finding out where he’d fucked up. Women...

By the time he got inside, Lucy was scooping corn kernels out of a can with a plastic fork. She hunched over the tin like she hadn’t seen food in days.

“Hey,” he grunted.

She issued some unintelligible noise back as she swallowed down the cold food. It struck him how ill-prepared he’d been in bringing her here. Selfishness and survival drove his urgency, when, as Lucy had told him from the beginning, she was used to being treated a certain way. Yet, instead of fine dining prepared by a personal chef like she was probably used to while employed, he’d forced her into canned goods and water if she wanted her basic survival needs met.

Good going
,
Victor.

Ignoring the tight rumble of his own belly, he said, “What about that supply run? You need fuel.”

“Doing fine.” She stabbed her fork into the kernels. A few went flying out of the can and landed on the floor. Her gaze dropped to where they lay scattered before shooting back to him, a dare to mention them in the harsh squint.

Ignoring every screaming instinct telling him to say
fuck it
, turn tail and head back to the werewolves, where he’d get a warmer reception, he asked, “You want to talk about it?”

She slammed the can down. “Talk about what? How you don’t think much of me or what I’m doing?”

“Whoa. That’s—”

“Or how you want to do the typical man thing and take over? You’re just as bad as the rest of them, treating me like a pretty trinket incapable of doing more than being eye candy. I think I’ve shown you in just a few days that I’m smart. I’m a fast learner. I’m stronger than I look, and I can take care of myself reasonably well. I’m adaptable.”

Lucy paused to take a breath, and he took advantage. “You’re right. You’re all of those things and more. But you’re also sick.”

As if the universe chose to punctuate his point, Lucy sucked in a breath, one that obviously pained her to take. A part of Victor cracked as he watched her try to stifle the need for air. Those hazel green eyes burned with annoyance lined with fear. Her own understanding of her limitations. Every breath must have been a not-so-subtle reminder that she neared death. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through, not being able to ignore it for even a little while.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m so tired, Victor,” she whispered. “This is harder than I ever thought it would be. And I’m even more scared that when the time comes, I’ll hesitate. I might look into Sage’s dark heart and see something I don’t want to there. I might hesitate, and he’ll kill me first. Everything I’ve sacrificed, everything I’ve promised Cindy, will be for nothing. But if there’s one thing you need to know about me, especially after all that I’ve been through, it’s that I am relentless about this task. It’s something I have to attempt. If he kills me, that’s one thing, but at least I know I’ll go down having tried to avenge Cindy and all of the other slaves who weren’t given a choice.”

“Then why are you so upset that I want to do this for you? Why can’t I take the chance for you and let you watch from a safe distance?”

“Don’t you get it? Sage has to know I’m the reason he’s dying. Sage actually having to look into my eyes, the knowledge seeping into his brain, is something I want to see for myself. If I thought his death would be enough, I might consider sending you in, but I need more than that. I need him to
understand
.”

“But if you fail?” he asked softly.

Lucy stared into the bottom of the can. He supposed she hadn’t thought of that, whether vengeance would be as good for her if she were no longer around to witness it. “I don’t know.”

This was an impossible task. Although there were bright moments to her training, there was no way she would be ready to face Sage. Hell, when he took on the job—and she knew it was a matter of when—he’d need at least a few tries to get close. A lot of times, success depended on sheer luck.

She blew out a breath as if shaking loose her frustration. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“When we got here, I had the distinct impression that you were under your own agenda. Like something else was going on. Was I right?”

There had been moments since they’d arrived when he could forget about the werewolves. They weren’t too far from his thoughts, but he allowed himself the luxury of believing it was just him and Lucy. His plans for her had gone awry so far, but at least he knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Something about this place, the small cabin with its rudimentary furnishings and supplies, made him want to forget the outside world. Despite his resemblance to an earlier time when his life hadn’t been worth much more than the clothes on his back, Lucy’s presence helped make up the difference.

He wanted her so much his entire body ached. His hands all but trembled with the urge to touch and caress her skin. His imagination couldn’t supply him with images enough to sate his desire for this woman, but despite their agreement, it didn’t feel right yet. As much as he could still practically taste her on his lips, something vital was missing. Victor’s gut told him to wait a little longer. His gut had never failed him.

“Want to set another wager?”

She studied his face, her own displaying the disappointment she harbored toward his refusal to answer her question. “What are you playing for this time?”

“Lady’s choice.”

Lucy arched a brow. “You know I’m going to ask for a break from you whipping my butt and the rest of the night off. Either you’re feeling super generous, or I should go play a lotto ticket tonight.” Some color had returned to her face. “I win and I get what I want? What’s in it for you?”

“Does something have to be in it for me?” Victor was feeling tired too. He couldn’t explain to her that he simply wanted to see her smile. He could scarcely explain it to himself. “Just enjoy your luck and go buy a lotto ticket. We’ll stick with the same rules as before. If you can tag me, you get your night off. Miss, and...” He grinned.

Her eyes narrowed, defiance flaring.

Later, when they were curled up in bed, he didn’t regret the wager. His heart hadn’t been in the fight, and Lucy had tagged him once again. She’d accused him of taking it easy on her, but honestly, he’d been entranced watching her graceful movements. Somehow she’d taken the lessons he was giving her and turned them into a dance of sorts.

This “liking” her was turning into something more complicated. And when she claimed her prize, requesting another night’s reprieve from him, Victor didn’t argue.

It gave him time to think. Time to plan.

Tomorrow night, there would be no wager. He’d claim what he’d earned. And they would seal their agreement for good.

Chapter Eleven

When Victor called it an early night the following evening, Lucy knew what was in store. Unlike the previous two nights, she had no intention of claiming illness or needing a break. Her curiosity was as loud and restless as his must’ve been. He didn’t offer her a chance to win back another night of freedom; she didn’t request one.

Victor seemed to sense her commitment.

After dinner, he watched her move around the cabin with dark eyes. She hadn’t seen him drink or feed since they’d arrived, and she’d be lying to herself to believe she wasn’t intimidated by the growing hunger that must have been in him. But his need for sustenance couldn’t compare to the carnal appetite she sensed in him.

The attraction between them was almost a physical thing she could touch. God knew, she didn’t try hard to resist it.

Outside, with the moonlight covering his skin, she’d become distracted by the way his muscles glinted. Shadows seemed to play well with the ridges and lines. More than once, she’d found herself licking her dry lips, the urge to taste his skin almost overwhelming.

Now, reflecting on her rising lust, Lucy took her time in the shower as each droplet of water seemed to sizzle on her overwrought skin. To cool herself further, she replayed their night over and over again in her mind, practicing the moves Victor taught her in her head. It took only a few runs before she discarded the lessons for more prurient pursuits.

After a full day of rest and another evening of being tossed around like old pillow, she should be ready for change. Even if the change meant paying Victor’s price for the lessons. She’d made a deal and she would honor it. Hell, she’d earned it.

While under the spray of the shower, Lucy realized her muscles no longer burned her as badly as they had after the first night of training. She supposed that meant some kind of progress. She ached when she moved, but nothing she couldn’t handle. It was her body’s gentle reminder that she’d been pushed to a physical limit. Tonight, when in Victor’s arms, she’d be pushed and taken even further.

Her pussy squeezed in anticipation.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden surge of arousal and she got out of the shower to seek relief. Her cheeks heated again, her body jump-started on the night before it had truly begun. In complete opposition, her stomach warmed as she remembered the promise Victor had made about ensuring she’d know what it felt like to succumb to true sensual pleasure. Often forced to fake an orgasm in the past, it didn’t seem possible she’d submit to one now, but maybe the experience of trying for it would be worth the effort. If he failed, she’d have no one to blame but herself. Too many years of not daring to ask for what she needed.

She toweled off and went to the meager selection of clothing, wishing briefly her closet was available. She’d spent a small fortune on hand-painted lingerie and owned some of the sheerest garments ever designed, all with seduction of the most discerning gentlemen and ladies in mind. Years of hand-selecting the perfect combinations, fabrics designed for heightened sensuality and arousal. Perfumes, powders and creams kept her skin smooth, sometimes shimmering. Lipsticks, rouge, polish all in colors and tones meant to compliment the natural coloring of her skin. Everything designed for visual appeal and seduction. Yet, even without her closet at her disposal, Lucy wasn’t without her ways.

Discovering an old tube of lipstick now seemed like stumbling across gold. Pinching her cheeks provided color, an antiquated but useful technique. Between the two shades of pink the lipstick and her cheeks provided, she decided she liked the fresh hint at innocence the colors produced.

For clothing, she found a see-through scarf, frayed at the edges, but if she planned things right, Victor would never notice. The material went around her waist, hiding what he’d want to see most while always keeping him very aware that she wore little to nothing beneath. In this case, nothing.

As soon as Lucy considered wearing her bra as a top, she discarded the idea. Instead, she draped some old beads, a la Mardi Gras, around her neck. There must have been more than two dozen of them, enough to create a spray of colors that covered her cleavage and breasts. Some hung low, brushing across her nipples as she moved. The unexpected side effect of arousing her nipples into stiff points was an added bonus.

Standing before the mirror while admiring her handiwork, she realized the flush to her cheeks would remain without any help from her. Her heart pounded with anticipation, her chest rising and falling from the pattern of her quick breaths. Like every other man before him, he would thirst for her in a way that made him an animal to his appetites. It should have made her tremble with fear, but she knew how careful he could be with her.

She wanted to feel Victor inside her, his imperfect mouth touching hers in a way that made sense. Yet she sensed an odd type of reluctance from him. As if he wanted and needed the contact, but shied away from it at the same time. On the other hand, if she could somehow ensure beforehand that what happened between them stayed physical, she’d be a lot more comfortable. The more experienced part of her had a bad, bad feeling that the vampire wouldn’t be able to overcome his nature and would take from her, just as all of the others before him had. Vampires by their very natures
took
. She sincerely doubted Victor with his limited emotional range would be much different.

The feelings she had for him confused her. Were they because he’d chosen to help her despite his misgivings? Or the way he pushed her to be better at defense than she could have ever imagined? Could it be as simple as being lodged together in an intimate setting where she often found herself panting hard, his face hovering an inch above hers? Never mind the fact that he’d just thrown her over his shoulder and she was flat on her ass.

Maybe she simply needed physical contact.

“You gonna hide—
Fuck
.” Victor’s gruff voice made her turn.

He’d begun to cross the threshold, bulldozing his way into the room in his typical manner. Lucy looked to him in time to see him come to a sudden stop. His eyes went midnight dark as she pivoted, offering him a teasing view of her profile. His hot gaze swept from her feet up her thighs. His mouth parted, incisors lengthening and pushing into the opening.

Lucy noted every place his gaze stopped. The places he lingered. Where he skipped. She memorized all of these things as she’d been taught so she could use them against him later in the art of seduction. She wanted to be able to tease him mercilessly, until he toed the line of control.

Because his throat bobbed while his gaze followed the drape of the beads, Lucy inhaled. A pained look flashed across his face as her breasts lifted. She didn’t have to see them to know his incisors must have been throbbing painfully. “I’m not hiding,” she said just above a whisper.

She couldn’t hide, because the pounding of her heartbeat would give her away. This was it. Unless something drastic happened, there was no more shying away from him.

“What
are
you doing?” He remained in the open doorway, as if incapable of making a step forward.

“Preparing to entertain a client.” She pointed at the beads and wrap. “It’s not quite what I would have preferred to greet him in, but I don’t think it looks half bad. Do you?”

“Entertain...a client.” He seemed to chew on her choice of words, ultimately finding them distasteful.

She considered it from his point of view. “I’m getting ready for a liaison. Is that better?”

He took a step forward.

Lucy took a step back. She wanted this—sex with Victor—but she also enjoyed keeping him off balance too.

“Not by much,” he said in a low voice, one full of gravel and bass.

“I’m not sure what else I should call it. We aren’t lovers—”
Yet.
“I don’t know that we’re friends, either.”

His eyes narrowed. “No labels.”

Lucy smiled. Somehow Victor had helped her remember that she didn’t particularly care for his personality, yet at the same time, his honesty was refreshing. There would never be love between them, a complication neither needed, but friendship she could appreciate. Mix that with the physical attraction that made her skin tingle with awareness, and she would walk away from this with her heart intact. This felt right, and she hoped there would be no regrets for either of them afterward. The last days of her life should be about fulfilling desires and living each hour to the fullest, not nursing emotional wounds.

She moved to the bed, noting with some satisfaction that Victor came closer. The flash of thigh she displayed for him had the desired effect, causing his head to tilt while he studied her naked skin.

“So you’re ready for this?” he asked, almost a murmur. There might have been a note of concern in his voice. It could have been her imagination just as well. Sympathy coming from a murderer for hire? Not likely.

Lucy lifted her chin. She’d made a deal and would honor it. “Of course.”

Holding out her arms, she bade him come to her.

* * *

Victor’s teeth were so sensitive, a stiff breeze across them might make him come in his pants.

Lucy watched him with those hazel green eyes, pupils large and black, a scent rolling off her skin making it impossible to breathe without taking it in. A mixture of fear, desire and something else he couldn’t name made her an enticement he shouldn’t have, but wanted more than his next heartbeat.

She reminded him of his early days when the women were plentiful and money lined his pockets. He could afford any of them, often more than one at a time, and they welcomed him with open arms. They weren’t as beautiful as the woman in front of him right now though. Not even close.

When she beckoned him to her, he stilled, almost unsure of how to react. He was eager to touch and taste Lucy, but he’d never been permitted in the proximity of a blood slave before, much less had one available to him. It’d been a long time since he’d had to treat a woman with utter respect. When it came time to cater to her, would he be able to do it right?

“I don’t bite, you know,” she said with a smile.

Once upon a time, he’d been confident in his skills. Even now, he didn’t doubt them. His ability to be tender with her, though, that remained in question. He couldn’t admit the base of his fears to her, not without sounding like an amateur. “You’re so refined. Too delicate for anything less than a butterfly’s touch.”

She shifted, his gaze immediately dropping to the line of her thigh as it slid across the bed. She scooted to the middle, leaving plenty of room for him to join her. “Don’t let my upbringing fool you. If I don’t walk away from a liaison with a love mark or two, it probably wasn’t that good.”

Victor had been in the process of lifting his shirt over his head, but went stock still at her words. “Rough?” he asked, unable to hide the incredulousness in his voice. “You want a rough and tumble?”

The smile went all the way to her eyes, a sparkle now appearing. “Is that so impossible to believe? I’m not made of crystal or glass. I’m a flesh-and-blood human who doesn’t mind walking away with my muscles aching, lips swollen or a twist in my step.”

Be still my beating heart.
“But no biting?”

All amusement wiped clean of her face then. “No. We had a deal.” The tone in her voice began to rise, an undercurrent of panic making her voice tremble. “If you bite me, it’s over, just like that. I’ll—”

Victor held up his hands. He moved to her, standing close enough that she’d see his seriousness. He’d give her no reason to distrust him about this. “I ain’t about to, not without your permission. Promise you that.”

“I won’t ever—”

“Then I won’t ever bite you. My loss, but I’ll get over it.”

Lucy gave a jerky nod. Damn, he planned on getting to the bottom of what happened to her and why she was so skittish about a vampire’s bite. Humans who experienced it usually found it pleasurable and came back for more. Creating an addict was a real thing he knew they had to be careful of. For her to shy away from it made no sense. This woman had more layers than an onion.

He took off the shorts, the time for talking over. She couldn’t have any idea what kind of temptation she made lying prone on the bed, her breasts bared and the vee between her legs hidden by the sheerest of material.

Determined to do right by the former blood slave, Victor went to the switch and cut the glaring light. He would be able to see every detail of her, with or without the soft glow provided by the moon. It would also ensure she didn’t have to look at him dead on. Just because they’d struck a bargain didn’t mean she had to be reminded of it through the entire encounter. He knew what he looked like and didn’t want to see the revulsion reflected back at him. No matter how much his head told him it wouldn’t happen, enough of his heart didn’t trust it to be so yet.

To his surprise, Lucy watched him approach beneath a guileless gaze, long lashes almost hiding the color in her eyes. He met her gaze, thrown off by his inability to read her. It felt like something needed to be said, somehow make this seem less like a business transaction. “I won’t hurt you,” he said softly.

“I know.” Her voice was guileless, trusting.

Victor didn’t know what to do with that trust.

For some reason, she held him in some regard. Why, he couldn’t figure, but God knew for at least the next hour, he’d remember and honor it.

His teeth pulsed harder when he lowered himself to the bed and her. Although she turned on her side to face him, Victor’s mind stuttered with the options available to him. God, why was he being such a dumbass about this? Sure, Lucy was only slightly hotter than the surface of the sun, but he knew how to touch her. How to make her moan with pleasure.

But maybe that was part of the problem. When she reacted to him, some part of Victor wanted it to be the real thing and not just what she’d been trained to do.

Pushing aside the thought, he brought his mouth to the skin of her neck. She shivered, her body going taut almost immediately.

“Shh,” he cooed. “Trust me for this. Nothing happens that you don’t want.”

Other books

The Art of Life by Carter, Sarah
Days of Little Texas by R. A. Nelson
Abandon by Viola Grace
Skorpio by Mike Baron
Shepherd One by Rick Jones
If My Heart Could See You by , Sherry Ewing