Hunter Mourned (Wild Hunt Book 3) (7 page)

BOOK: Hunter Mourned (Wild Hunt Book 3)
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“I don’t want to settle for a fantasy. I want you to make good on your promise.”

“Not tonight. My plans just changed.”

The lust in her tone suggested they involved getting naked with him. Too bad he was going to disappoint her.

“Yes, we’re going dancing.” A spark of desire flashed in her eyes. He almost hated squelching it. Her focus on him did make him feel good, even if he knew her attention wasn’t anything special. “With your brother.”

 

C
HAPTER
S
IX

The moment they were on the street, Rowan shoved him. Trevor stumbled into the alley, then locked his knees, ready for another push or a verbal attack. She did neither. She strode past him, her steps quickening.

He hurried after her. “Where are you going?”

She spun. “I can’t believe Zeph would just leave you. He knows what Craig would do to you if he got his hands on you. Whether you’re armed with your blade or not, he’s still stronger.”

Everything in him wanted to deny her words. Argue with her. Make her understand he wasn’t helpless, that he just had to fight smarter, plan his moves. He didn’t bother trying to convince her of anything. The worry in her eyes was clear.

“I told him to leave, so don’t be pissed at him.”

“I don’t care what you said. He knows better.”

“Sure he does. He knows that if he stayed, you would’ve left with those assholes.”

“And?” Brows pinched, she tilted her head slightly. “That was the point.”

“Unless you’re going to embrace your darker side, you wouldn’t have been able to fight off those kids if they decided to force you into a situation you didn’t want to be in.”

One corner of her mouth rose in a small, lopsided smile. “Rape me, you mean?”

He didn’t like her using the word. Why exactly, he couldn’t quite decide. Maybe because he thought she shouldn’t be exposed to stuff like that, the crap of the world, let alone know about it. What a ridiculous thing to bother him considering her father was the Lord of the Underworld. No doubt she’d seen plenty of hellish events in her long life. Her experiences didn’t wipe out Trevor’s instinct to shield her from them.

“Yes. That’s what I mean.”

Her smile widened at his sharp tone. “Well, you’re right. They would’ve tried.”

Oh yeah. That angered him more. Not only did she go with them, knowing what they’d do, she hadn’t taken any backup. She’d planned to face them alone. As a woman. Worse than that, she hadn’t suddenly started exposing herself to dangerous situations. She made a damn game out of them. Probably had for decades before she was imprisoned. He knew her mate had died dozens of years before she was locked away.

And what about the weeks he’d been laid up like a damn invalid? Who the hell had her back then?

“Has it happened in the past? Have you been hurt? Forced?” God, he’d kill them. Yeah, and that would no doubt land his ass on Arawn’s doorstep to await punishment.

“Why do you care?”

He closed the distance between them and glared at her. “I can’t believe you just asked that. Why wouldn’t I care?”

“You do know what I am, right?” A smirk on her face, she raised her brows, taunting him. “Arawn’s bastard child? A beast from Hell?”

“You’re a woman who’s going to give me gray freaking hair. That’s who you are.”

“You’re worried…” She lowered her voice and dropped the cocky attitude she wielded like a weapon. Her features softened, posture eased. “You’re really worried about…
me
?”

He snagged her wrists, one in each hand, and walked forward, forcing her to match his steps backward until he sandwiched her between the brick wall and his chest. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“You shouldn’t be putting yourself in situations where you can’t fight as a Hunter. I don’t want you hurt.” And he sure as fucking hell didn’t want anyone to rape her. He’d lose his mind. Strike out at the damn world.

“You’ve never said anything, never acted like you cared what I did.”

He brushed his thumb over the soft skin of her forearm, needing to show her she mattered. It was the most he could think of doing without leading her on. No matter what confusing emotions he had about her, he couldn’t allow them to sway him. What he’d told Ian was the truth. Trevor wanted to be a Huntsman, not a Hunter’s lover. Maybe after he was a rider, he’d reevaluate. He and Rowan would be on a level playing field then.

“I didn’t know what you were doing until tonight, or I would’ve.”

She blinked several times before studying him. His eyes, cheeks, nose, mouth—everywhere her gaze touched, he burned. It was the weirdest sensation, as if she held the key to his sex drive and all it took was a look to turn him on.

He enjoyed women, always had. He’d never had one who could make his dick rock-hard with only a glance. Rowan pulled it off, though. His cock hurt. Balls ached.

Her wandering gaze returned to his eyes. Lust darkened hers. “Nobody has taken more than what I’ve allowed.”

That didn’t soothe him either. Not one little bit. “So what have you
allowed
them to take?”

She licked her lips and focused on his. “That’s none of your business.”

Okay, her arrogance was better. The sultry voice she’d switched to could’ve held a physical touch. His skin tingled.

“Sure it is. I’m living under the same roof as you, following the Huntsmen’s rules, sleeping inches away from you. That gives me certain rights.”

Why he tagged on the last qualifier, he wasn’t sure. Okay, he did know. He had to stop lying to himself. With Rowan’s room so close, he felt as if they shared the same bed. Ridiculous. He knew it, but lying against that stupid wall, knowing she was right on the other side, helped him sleep better. If anyone ever brought it up—not that he could imagine why they would—he’d deny it. Didn’t change the truth, though. He’d grown attached to her—attitude and all.

With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she rose on her tiptoes, pushing her chest against his. Sparks skipped down his spine, tightening his groin more. He couldn’t decide if it was her full breasts pressed against his chest or the glistening lip she nibbled on that did it, but a switch flipped within him. Lust seized him, shoving out rational thought.

All he could think about was getting inside her. She’d be soft, accepting, hot. He wanted to feel her body clamp down around his shaft, feel the waves of her release coaxing his seed free, feel her nails in his muscles as she lost control.

Feel
her
.

He wanted that, to experience Rowan’s passion. To know Rowan—as a lover, as a woman, as a friend. He’d never wanted anything more.

He drew her wrists behind her back, grasping both in one hand. The move pushed her lush breasts more firmly against him, jacking up his lust another notch. His dick throbbed. The slickness at the head of his erection made the material of his boxers stick to it, sensitizing him more. He needed them off. Needed to thrust into her. Needed to finish what they’d started in that scene from the fairy realm.

Right here. Right now.

“Rowan, I want…”

Shit.

What was he thinking? He couldn’t give in to some memory or his body’s needs. He’d gone too damn long without sex. That was all. Nothing more.

He dragged in a slow breath in an effort to tamp down the arousal. Her scent filled his lungs. Vanilla. Rich and tempting. The smell should’ve soothed him. Before Rowan, it would’ve reminded him of cookies and Christmastime. Since the illusion in the fairy realm, smelling it conjured images of sex—the raw and primal kind that left a man sated but hungry for more.

He bent closer and brushed his closed mouth over her temple. Another inhale, and light-headedness gripped him. He would’ve swayed had he not been holding on to Rowan. She centered him, even while she sent him up in flames.

“Answer me, Rowan. What have you allowed other men to take?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes. It does. Tell me.”

“Living in the same house doesn’t give you the right to know who I’m sleeping with or how many lovers I’ve taken. That’s where you’re going with this, isn’t it?”

“No. I’m concerned about the danger you’ve been exposing yourself to.”

She twisted her wrists, trying to get free. He held them tighter, tugging her arms slightly to show her he had the upper hand. She wasn’t getting away until he got what he wanted from her, for her to realize she wasn’t worthless. She relented and leaned back, easing the pull on her arms and forcing him to brace her body.

“Liar. You’re jealous. I want to know why.”

“I’m not jealous. We live under the same roof. I’m protective of you.”

She laughed, and damn if the sound of her amusement didn’t add to the spell she wove around him. He barely stifled his groan.

“That’s rich, Trevor.” She tilted her head to look into his eyes. “I’m an immortal Hunter. I can’t die permanently, and pain means nothing to me. Trust me on that. I’ve experienced horrendous wounds in my lifetime. I’ve been killed, sometimes dying in excruciating ways. Nothing those humans could’ve done would’ve topped that.”

Dammit to hell. She had to go and remind him of the horrors she’d suffered. He glared at her. “Shut up. Can you do that, Rowan? Just shut the fuck up.”

“Why should I?” She wrinkled her nose and gave him a “I can’t believe you just said that to me” look. “Because we live in the same house? Well, let me tell you—”

He kissed her. It was the only way to shut her up. If they kept talking, he’d admit to something he didn’t want to say, like that he felt as if she was
his
or something. It wasn’t true, just his dick talking or maybe the familiarity he experienced in her presence that came from living with her for weeks.

She remained passive while he slipped his tongue past her parted lips and stroked along her tongue, urging her to match him. Her eyes widened as if she were shocked that he’d kiss her. In the next moment, a shudder ran the length of her, and she exhaled through her nose. Then she was kissing him back as if she were starved for him.

She tugged to free her hands a second time, but he held them firmly, needing her exactly as she was. If she touched him, he wouldn’t be able to stop at a kiss. He’d have her body. Nothing between them. Just his dick and her wet core. He couldn’t get her pregnant, couldn’t contract any diseases. He wanted to experience that, to give Rowan what no girl had ever gotten from him.

“Trevor.” She managed to whisper his name between the wild tangling of their tongues. “What are—”

He nipped at her lips, stopping her words. “Shut up, Rowan. Fucking shut up and kiss me.”

She did. She kissed him, giving him everything possible from the limited position. Her lips brushed his. Her tongue curled around his. Her moans matched his. They moved together as if they’d kissed a thousand times before. Hell, he could’ve sworn they had. Flashes of memories danced across his mind, all of Rowan kissing him. Loving him. They weren’t images, per se, but more like a sensory knowledge. It was the softness of her lips, the contours of her teeth, the way her breath hitched a moment before she whimpered.

With his free hand, he caressed her side, from the edge of her breast to her hip. He flexed his fingers and fought his instincts. He knew what she’d like, knew what she needed. Her lust was a living thing between them. He felt it, the demand to be sated, to be soothed. She rubbed her nipples against his chest and sucked on his tongue. The hungry groan she shoved down his throat reflected the wildness seizing her.

She yanked hard to free her hands. Needing her touch, he released her wrists and grabbed her ass, squeezing each cheek hard.

Her breath caught, then released in a shaky exhale. She linked her fingers behind his neck and pulled his head closer to hers, running her fingers through the strands of his hair. Her fingernails scraped his scalp. The slight pinch whipped more sparks down his spine. He wanted more, to feel her scratching at his back while she came apart around his dick.

No. He needed to stop. Needed to put space between them. He had plans, and becoming Rowan’s lover wasn’t one of them, at least not anytime soon. They had to wait before giving in to the lust.

She used her hold on him to pull herself higher, then wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hot center pressed against the bulge in his pants.

His resistance fizzled, not that he was actually putting up much of a fight. He rocked into her, and she moaned. Another thrust and she clutched him tighter. The pinch of her nails grew sharper. His lust skyrocketed.

He used his hold on her ass and ground against her, rubbing his jeans-covered cock over her panty-covered cleft. So hot. She’d be wet, dripping in welcome for him. The urge to find out directed his actions. He slipped his hand between her thighs and brushed his knuckles over the crotch of her underwear. Soaked. So damn aroused, her inner thighs were damp.

Fucking hell.

More. He needed to feel more. All of her.

He shoved the material covering her lower lips to the side and dragged his thumb over her cleft, pushing slightly to dip between the folds.

Rowan tipped her head back. Her eyelids lowered.

Oh yeah, he liked that look on her. Seeing the lax expression slide over her face when she orgasmed would be better, though.

There was no stopping this. He would have her.
Right here. Right now.

“Rowan.” A question, a demand. Maybe even an apology. His goal hadn’t changed. It couldn’t. What they were doing was just a preview. Something to look forward to once he became a rider. It couldn’t be anything more.

“Yes.” Rowan slid her hand between their bodies. The button of his jeans popped with her tug, and she jerked his zipper down. The roughness of her glove scraped the sensitive length of his erection. He opened his mouth to tell her to take them off. She rubbed the head of his cock against her cleft before he could form words.

She released his shaft, and the head slid along her wetness to poke at her opening. So close. With one thrust, he’d join them.

He cupped her cheek, turning her head so he could see her face. “Look at me. I want you to know whose dick is inside you. I want you to remember whose touch shatters you. Understand?”

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