Hunter Betrayed (7 page)

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?”