Snow & Her Huntsman (3 page)

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Authors: Sydney St. Claire

Tags: #Erotic Romance

BOOK: Snow & Her Huntsman
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Your Character: Snow.

Your Partner: The Huntsman.

Costumes will be provided.

Formal Ball Saturday evening.

Oh, my god! A weekend of wild sex with her golden dream god of a lover. Rylee’s knees shook. As much as she’d loved and adored her husband, sex between them had never come close to the explosive passion she’d shared with Hunter that wondrous weekend in college.

He’d bound her wrists, spanked her, turned her ass red, and heated her desire to the point she’d begged him to fuck her. He’d forced her to come over and over. She’d never experienced such mind-numbing orgasms before or since. Just thinking about that weekend awakened the desire slumbering deep inside. Her panties were uncomfortably wet at the thought of repeating the experience.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered. She couldn’t risk his breaking her heart. “You said we were going negotiate the sale of my company, not spend the weekend having…”

“Sex?” Hunter tipped up her chin, forcing her to meet his cat-like gaze. “No reason we can’t mix pleasure and business, Rylee.”

“I’m not trading sex for my company.”

“No, you’re not. The offer I’ve made stands as it is. However, I’m a man who works hard and plays equally hard. This event has been on my calendar for months, and the woman who was to be my partner had to cancel. I’ll repeat what I said earlier. You need something from me, and I want something from you. As I recall, you were a good sub ten years ago, which makes you a perfect for this.”

“You can’t expect me to agree? I’m not into this. What we did was a long time ago.” But not so long ago she’d forgotten even one moment.

He drew in a deep breath. “You’re aroused, Rylee. I can smell it, and I see the excitement in your eyes. The weekend we had together meant something to you, as it did to me.”

Her gaze latched onto his full, delicious mouth. “Yet you blew me off and made it clear you wouldn’t have anything to do with me ever again.” She tried to hide the hurt, but it was there, as was a small quiver in her voice.

“There were reasons.”

She mentally shook her head free of lustful desires. “Name them.”

“This weekend. I came to you six months ago with the intention of explaining what happened, but you chose to send me away. Now, you can wait. My terms.”

Ooh.
She longed to tell him where to take his terms. She sent him a look of utter disgust. “I could forget everything and walk out of here.” Walk away from the man who had her pulse pounding and a terrible ache gathering between her legs. She picked up her briefcase.

Hunter snagged her arm. “What’s your favorite fairytale?”

“What?” The change in topic threw her. His hand, a warm band trapping her, sent shivers of desire swirling through her.

“Mine is Snow White. Pretty girl, beautiful woman. Puts others before her. Protects the dwarves, takes care of them. Not an ounce of self-pity in her. Reminds me of you.”

“Me?” Rylee drew herself up. Her brain couldn’t keep up with him. “You think I’m going to break into a song here? Let’s not forget she was so trusting she got herself poisoned.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “Ah, but her heart was pure, and her prince saved her.”

Rylee swallowed hard. His laugh hummed through her bloodstream and settled like a smug grin deep in her center. Damn, how was it she wanted this man again and so desperately. She had to steel herself against his charm and sex appeal.

“You’re not my prince,” she said, fighting the urge to beg him to save her business. F.A. Investments had been her knight in shining armor, her prince galloping in on his white horse to save her and her kingdom. Instead, he was the ruthless king on the throne out for revenge because she’d dared to tell him no.

“You got that right. I prefer to be the honorable huntsman who couldn’t kill the young princess.” He released her arm, his body smoothly closing the distance between them. “And now the man has returned to claim the woman the girl became.”

Fighting the urge to run, she tipped her head back and lost herself in the richness of his gaze. “What the hell do you want, Hunter?”

“You.” He rested his palm against the nape of her neck and drew her in for a kiss.

The moment his lips covered hers, her resistance melted away. How many times during the last six months had she replayed the events of that incredible weekend and imagined kissing him again?

She sighed when he embraced her, yanking her against the hard wall of his broad chest. His tongue eased into her mouth as though it belonged there. He drank and devoured, forcing her to grip his shoulders to keep from melting into a puddle of jelly.

Her tongue feathered over his as she succumbed to his demand. He drew her tongue into his mouth with one long, hard suck. She groaned and held on as he kissed her with such mind-numbing passion she feared she would go up in flames.

One hand followed the curve of her spine, dipped into the small of her back, and crested the swell of her buttocks. Her muscles clenched, her hips jerking forward as heat settled in a hard knot between her legs. She hadn’t felt this level of desperate need since…hell, since the last time Hunter had kissed her. His kiss whipped her needs into a frothing storm.

She tried to pull back, needed to breathe, and god, had to think rationally. She was a businesswoman. What the hell was she doing allowing him to kiss her? Her mind sought control, but her body pressed into his, begging and, dammit, needing so much more.

His fingers dug into her ass as she dragged her lips from his. “Hunter.”

“I know, baby.” His hand trailed over her ass then along her thigh as he lifted her leg, shoved his thigh between hers, and pressed upward. Hard. His hand curved up over her ass.

Rylee’s moan filled the room. Hunter muffled the sound with his mouth. His fingers dipped below the waist of her panties. She sucked in her breath, her body screaming for him to touch her, and take the pain of lust away. Her mind resisted, warned that she was playing with fire. Needs won over caution as she rode his thigh.

Wishing he’d thought ahead to lock his door, Hunter bit back a groan as her hot, wet heat seeped beneath the fabric of his slacks. His fingers tunneled through tight, black curls until he reached her damp mound. He glided his middle finger through swollen folds and swallowed her cries.

His other hand found its way down the back of her silky panties. He kneaded the soft, warm globes of her ass and rocked her hips, urging her to ride him harder, faster. The scent of her arousal, the taste of her sweet mouth, and the feel of her slick flesh sent desperate need coursing through his veins. His heart pounded in his ears, and his cock throbbed painfully as though every drop of blood in his body had settled between his legs.

His dick was rock-hard. He longed to free himself and drive deep into her hot, moist pussy. But he resisted. For now, he had to be satisfied with her frantic cries, her pumping hips, and the wet heat of her sex sliding over him. His finger teased her clit. A low growl escaped when that tiny nub swelled beneath his touch.

“Oh, god, we have to stop.” She moaned, her head falling back, exposing the tender whiteness of her throat.

Hunter sucked and nipped his way along her jawline to her ear. He swirled his tongue into and around, each curve, then drew her earlobe into his mouth. Her moan was almost too much. If he didn’t stop, he was going to lose control and explode.

“No. You’ll come for me, Rylee. Here and now.” He deepened his voice, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist his command. She’d been this responsive to him once before. He hadn’t understood his dominant nature back then or how a Dom could easily control a sub with voice. Now that she was free, he wanted what he hadn’t dared keep for himself ten, long years ago.

“Now,” he commanded. “Come for me now, Rylee.”

Rylee had to stop, regain control, but the moment he used that deep, commanding voice, she was lost. His finger circled harder, faster, giving her no choice but to soar on the wings of pleasure he controlled. His tongue dipped in and out of her mouth, and every cry that escaped was muffled by his lips closing over hers.

She drew her head back, breaking the kiss. “I can’t. Not here. Not like this.”

“Yes, you can. You will.” His fingers dug into her ass, and his thigh shifted, applying more pressure. His finger on her clit circled hard and fast.

She dropped her head back as the tremors started deep in her center and rushed outward in all directions, growing in strength. Arching her back, she drew in a deep breath, then everything around her exploded into millions of tiny bright, flickering stars that floated around her and through her.

Hunter shifted one hand to the back of her head and swallowed her cry of release. He eased his finger into her. Her pussy gripped him, consumed him with each pulsating spasm, each wave of desire as her body jerked over and over. Using his thumb, he drew out her orgasm, refusing to settle for less than all. When she slumped in his arms, he drew her close, his lips soothing, his mouth soft and loving.

Rylee couldn’t believe what she’d done. She’d totally lost control, something she’d never done with another man but Hunter. Sex between her and her husband had never come close to the heat level between her and Hunter. Her hands dropped from his shoulders to his chest. Palms flat, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or bunch her fingers in his shirt and draw him even closer. God, what must he think of her? One kiss, and she’d gone up in flames, like a desperate and hungry woman.

Which was true. But to show it and behave in such a manner horrified her. “I…” She didn’t know what to say.

Hunter stepped away, she assumed to give her time to adjust her clothing. He picked up the invitation from the gray carpet. “My limo will pick you up at two on Thursday.”

“Thursday?” Damn, her mind and body felt as though she were swimming through a thick gel.

Handing her the invite, along with a large envelope he snagged off his desk, he held her gaze. “I’ll see you at Pleasure Manor. Your costumes will be delivered to your office this afternoon.”

He tapped the envelope. “Instructions and rules. I suggest you go get your bloodwork done this afternoon. You’ll need to bring the results with you.” Hunter handed her the briefcase and her purse and hustled her to the door.

Rylee blinked in confusion. Damn the man for being in complete control while she was a quivering mass of need. Her orgasm hadn’t eased her ache for this man. She yearned to have his cock plunging inside her, and she needed more of those explosive orgasms he’d been so good at giving her.

But she hated being manipulated, and he was a master. He’d lured her in with hopes and dreams of saving her business and probably used Glorie to make her mad enough that she’d confront him. Now, he’d had the nerve to use her own body against her. “Dammit, Hunter, I never said—”

Hunter halted her with the single lift of his brow. “Your body spoke for you.” He lowered his head and kissed her hard, swallowing her protests. “Thursday. And don’t bother wearing panties.”

Chapter Three

Rylee studied the richly appointed room through her silky, golden mask. Everything sparkled or glittered. What did one call a room in a mansion filled with antiques, gilt-framed pictures, and a gleaming baby grand in the corner? A formal parlor maybe? The room wasn’t big enough to be considered a ballroom, not to mention there was too much furniture. Couches and chairs lined the walls, leaving the middle of the room with enough space for the gathering group of men and woman eager for a weekend of role-play.

Tall windows towered over the crowd along one side of the room, and French doors were open to allow a cool breath of air to enter. She took a sip of champagne. Soft strains of music provided a backdrop as participants entered, one or two at a time. Staring at the other guests, Rylee felt as though she’d gone back in time. Or at least through Alice’s looking glass.

To her left, two women chatted. One wore a red cloak; the other wore a dress that looked as though it had been sewn from rags. Red Riding Hood and Cinderella? To her right, a brown-haired woman in a simple blue dress. Beauty looking for her beast? Beside her, a woman with blonde hair past her waist sipped her champagne. Had to be Rapunzel. There were more women grouped together toward the other end of the room, chatting softly and eyeing the offerings.

Across from Rylee, men lined up one by one as they entered the room. Each man wore a mask. After he’d asked for her envelope, the butler—
the butler,
for god’s sake—had said masks were required when everyone gathered as a group. Handing over her blood results had embarrassed her a bit but not as much as the thought of agreeing to attend a fairytale event.

A Fairytale BDSM event
.

What the hell are you doing here? “You’re here for your company,” she reminded herself. Sacrifices had to be made. She nearly burst into hysterical laughter. Sacrifice hell! Ten minutes alone with Hunter, and she’d practically thrown herself at the man like a cat in heat escaping out the front door.

She pressed a hand to her jittery stomach. She felt as though someone had set off a hundred bouncing super balls inside her. “Relax. It’s only a weekend.”

Only a weekend. Oh, my god.
She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that college weekend. Her face flamed. She’d never had as strong a reaction to a man before or after him, and here she was, ready—no, eager—for whatever he might demand. Her body throbbed in anticipation, and dammit, did she have to follow his orders blindly?

No panties.

Damn, she was wet and had been ever since the limo arrived. During the long drive, she’d struggled not to think of sex with Hunter. Instead, she’d tried to focus on saving her business, keeping control in her hands. What if she failed? Could she put aside her own needs and protect her employees?

To calm her nerves and put her worries and fears from her mind, she focused on the men and, wow, what a line-up. Several wore velveteen tunics and pants that made them look regal enough to be a fairytale princess’s prince, but her partner was not a prince. He was a huntsman. Her gaze swept over the rest of the men wearing leather vests, harnesses, and G-string thongs that didn’t hide much. One man wore a full mask that gave him a very wolfish appearance. Holy mother of god! His tight, one-piece costume clung to every muscle of his very magnificent body like a second skin.

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