Hunting Purity (The Hunting Series Book 2)

by Tracy Lauren

  “I’m sorry, this one isn’t as good as last night’s. I should stick to Tom Hanks. Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you the plot of Big.”

  Hero just smiles at me and give me a gentle shoulder bump. Somehow that makes me feel all better.

  Chapter 23

  He’Rokvska Naa

  Never have I felt more a hunter than the moment Purity entered the cave. When she bent over the rocks, vulnerable and unassuming, my cock grew stiff and my mouth watered at the sight. The globes of her ass were bared to me, luring me in with every slight sway of her hips. I ached to slide in behind her and claim her as more than just my hunting trophy.

  When she joined me by the fire, I worried she might notice the bulge between my legs and frankly, our relationship is confusing enough as it is. I find that the more I am around her, the more I feel tested. Every time her shoulder bumps mine, or her fingertips graze my flesh, it is dizzying. I am a disciplined male, yet somehow find myself wondering if I will be able to keep my urges at bay.

  My mind is troubled as she tells another story and I struggle to follow along. Instead, I try to sort through the feelings within me, weighing my honor against emotion. It is a shame I am so distracted, for her story sounds like something I would truly enjoy. Eventually the tale comes to an end and I only notice she has concluded after silence stretches between us. I can tell she is disappointed by my lack of engagement.

  “What kind of stories do you like anyway?” she asks after a while, pretending to be unperturbed. “Maybe I can think of something that would fit your interests a little better.”

  “I have enjoyed both the stories you told,” I reply, offering her more meat.

  “You have washed your hands today, right?” she asks belatedly. I shrug, pretending I cannot remember and she breaks into peals of laughter.

  “You are so gross,” she tells me, bumping into me again. I want to lean into her and maintain the contact for as long as possible.

  “You seemed to like Castaway,” she notes, returning her thoughts to the stories she tells. She drums her fingers on her chin. “I read The Hobbit a few years ago. I might be able to remember the plot if I think about it for a while. Kind of a wilderness adventure theme…only I liked the hint of romance in Castaway. The Hobbit doesn’t have that.”

  “Skip your Hobbit then,” I say, waving away her suggestion. I instantly regret voicing my interest in a tale with a romantic element. Though she has no direct translation for my words I feel her stiffen and look at me. I try to avoid her gaze.

  “So you like a little romance too, huh?” she asks, correctly guessing my thoughts. A sly smile brightens her features. “Before Sunrise is one of my all-time favorites. It’s about a pair of strangers that meet, spend the night together…just talking and exploring the city, and they fall in love before the sun rises the next day. It has a sad ending though, or sad-ish.”

  “I do not want one that ends unhappily,” I tell her with a shake of my head.

  “You prefer a happy ending?” The way she smiles makes me feel like she’s teasing me in some way I do not understand, but she adds, “I’ll have the perfect story for tomorrow night.”

  I look at her skeptically.

  “The Princess Bride. It’s literally the best story ever. It has action, adventure, and true love.” She bats her eyes enthusiastically. I think she is being playful. I also think I like it.

  Silence falls between us once more. When I offer her food she declines and rests her head on my shoulder. I grow still. Her hair feels soft against my scales and her clean scent is practically intoxicating. I set the last of the food aside.

  “I wish you could tell me a story,” she whispers. Just the sound of her breathy whisper alone makes my scales flick in anticipation and I feel chills run the length of my body. My cock twitches in my pants as her hand slips into mine.

  “If you could, what kind of story would you tell me?” she asks. “Would it be a romantic one?”

  I rise quickly from the log, making nonsense excuses to a female who cannot understand my words, then hurry from the cave.

  “Hero?” she calls after me, but I ignore her in my haste to get away.

  My cock aches with every step I take and my body protests the distance I put between Purity and myself. Once I’m far enough away, hiding under the cover that the trees provide, I look back toward the cave. I can see the silhouette of her female form moving about, tidying up perhaps.

  Her legs are long and lithe, and even though she is not muscled like a warrior should be, there is something intrinsically appealing about how delicate and feminine she is. Absently, my hand goes to my cock and I stroke it through my pants as I watch her.

  “Gods, what am I doing?” I wretch my hand away and turn toward the stream. A cool dip in the water will help clear my mind.

  Sometime later, I feel composed enough to return to the cave and I silently pray that Purity will be asleep when I get back. And while I pray for one thing, I hope for another. I want Purity to be awake and waiting for me, so that perhaps she will talk to me more before bed.

  Life as a gladiator is lonely. It is dangerous to talk with other fighters, as you risk revealing weaknesses or becoming attached to friendships that cannot last. But Purity does not know there is any disparity in our relationship and she speaks to me like…like the friend I have never had. Even though there are barriers to our conversations, I long to hear the sound of her voice. It is as soft as she is, I think, just before entering the cave.

  The sight I am met with stops me in my tracks. Purity stands there, wearing nothing but her underthings as she folds her skin-tight clothing and tucks it away on the shelf.

  “Did you go for a swim?” she asks, sounding nonplussed. “It must be freezing out there.”

  I make no reply, but continue to stare at her, wide eyed. She follows my gaze and finally becomes aware of my shock.

  “Oh, I hope this doesn’t bother you. I figured I shouldn’t wear these 24/7. They’re the only clothes I have for now and the leggings are already getting threadbare in some places. I’m just trying to be prudent. I’m going to have to stretch the life out of them for as long as possible, you know?”

  She makes her way to our new fur and sets herself upon it, taking her hair down and giving it a tousle with her fingers. She pays me no mind while I’m frozen in the doorway, unsure if I’ll ever move again.

  It is a breeze that brings me to my senses, blowing into the cave and making the last of the fire waver. Purity’s nipples peak under the thin upper covering she uses to cradle her breasts. She is cold. I groan and enter the cave. Crouching before the fire, I keep my back to my female.

  If I thought my cock was hard before, I was a fool. I feel her eyes on me but do not wish to face her, otherwise she will surely see my arousal.

  “Are you…” She trails off, her voice sounding nervous. I venture a glance at her and see she rubs her arms to keep the chill away. That settles it. I push myself to my feet and make my way to our shared sleeping space. Her eyes are locked onto my face and her smile is bright.

  “I was worried you weren’t going to come to bed,” she admits.

  “You are cold, are you not?” I ask. My hand moves to her arm and against my better judgment, I stroke her there, sharing my heat…the same heat that seems to flare whenever I’m near her.

  Together, we lie down. She has discarded her small pillow and opts instead for my body. Her cheek rests against my chest and her fingertips twitch against my abdomen. It is as if she wants to touch me but is frightened. I inhale deeply, searching for her fear scent. Instead I am met with something all the more heady. It is the scent of her arousal. I grit my teeth and steel my resolve.

  “Go to sleep,” I tell her as gruffly as I can. If she cannot understand what I say, perhaps she can at least understand the way I say it.

  Purity makes no more effort to speak with me, and though I miss the sound of her voice, I am grateful. The lightest push and I’d have been on her with aband
on.

  Slowly, the fire dies away, leaving only embers in its place. Eventually sleep claims Purity, but I lie there longer, slipping in and out of a restless slumber, constantly aware of her body against mine.

  Hours later, it is that exotic and alien body of hers that brings me back to awareness.

  Her back is pressed against me and she is engulfed in my embrace. She must have moved or shifted in some way, because the feel of her bare ass against my stiff cock is what jolts me awake.

  What is the purpose of undergarments if they do not even cover her most private areas? I growl in agony when she shifts again. My cock has been too hard for too long and the slightest movement makes me want to thrust against her. I force myself onto my back.

  “Hero?” she whispers.

  All I can do is groan in response. She turns to cuddle close against me once more.

  “It’s cold when you aren’t holding me,” she says, her breath caressing my chest.

  I flex my fists a few times, calling upon every inch of my restraint before I wrap my arms around her, providing warmth.

  “That feels good,” she tells me and her fingers slide up my chest. Her touch is so gentle, it is the most painful of teases.

  “You are testing me, female, and even the great He’Rokvska Naa has his limits,” I warn, but instead of pulling away, she slips one bare leg over me and rests it squarely against my aching cock. Momentarily she stills, becoming aware of my body’s reaction to her. Then, tentatively, her fingers begin tracing the peaks and valleys of the muscles across my chest. I growl at her, but it only encourages her movements and lightly, she grinds against me as if testing what my reaction might be.

  I grab her wrists, stilling her. “Careful,” I warn roughly. “You may think we are playing, but this is no game.” Regardless of my cautioning, she pulls from my grasp and her fingertips trace lower down my abdomen, inching closer to my stiff cock. I force her hand the rest of the distance, rubbing it against my length in warning. “Is this what you want?” I demand, expecting her to shy away. I want to frighten her, if only just enough so that she will push me away and stop this madness. But when I release her hand, she doesn’t beg for me to stop. No. She continues to stroke me through my pants.

  Blood courses through my veins. “Don’t,” I groan. “I am too tired and too aroused to talk myself out of this.” I throw my head back, practically begging her at this point. She responds by mounting me.

  “Hero,” she whispers over me, leaning in so close that we breathe each other’s air. “Kiss me.”

  I clench my eyes shut, still trying to fight this. My honor is at stake. Can I truly sacrifice the name I have made for myself for…for what? Lust? A perverse attraction to a female I have no business seducing?

  But my interest in Purity is more than just lust, is it not? I could have had any female back on Braga Faro Sintra. Yet, I wanted none. And here I find myself, with this soft and weak creature…unable to control myself even at the risk of my honor.

  “This is wrong,” I groan, talking more to myself than to Purity. But she is mine, the master in me whispers. I claimed her before Kosi and all the others… She is already mine.

  The tips of her fingers gently play across my jaw, guiding me to her. “If you don’t want this, tell me and I’ll let it go. But I hope…I hope you want me as badly as I want you.” My body trembles at her words. She rests her forehead against mine and I cannot help but nuzzle into her.

  “I want you, Hero,” she whispers again, her voice husky with need. It’s the way she says it that tips the scales. She isn’t asking for the famed gladiator, nor does she grovel at my feet like a slave would her master. It is only me that she wants.

  Instinctively, my hands go to her hips and we move together, slowly, rhythmically. I let go of my reservations, giving myself to her, and our lips connect.

  She is all softness, this one. Her kisses are teasing and her movements languid. Her hands roam over my body at such a leisurely pace that I think I might go mad. I want her to rub my cock again, but instead she scrapes her nails down my chest. I groan against her lips, somehow finding even more pleasure in her calculated assault than I would in her hand wrapped tightly around my shaft.

  I pay close attention to everything happening between us, learning Purity’s way. Mating on my world is not like this. It is harsh and rough. Couplings are frenetic and pleasure is rushed. But Purity is different—a far cry from all I know. When her lips brush against mine and her tongue begs entry into my mouth I am lost to the eroticism of the moment. This is not about fucking wildly. It is more…perverse than that. It is about lingering in each touch and caress. It is about prolonging the pleasure we can give to one another.

  Time stands still as we mate with our mouths, sucking, biting, and teasing each other in every way I could possibly imagine. Were she a slave, I’d have her on her knees already, rutting into her from behind. But Purity’s body is something to revere and luxuriate in. I guide her hips as she grinds her pussy on my length, simultaneously relieving the need growing there and stoking it. Her arousal scent fills my nostrils and the desire for release builds within me, coiling every muscle in my body. But there is no relief in sight and we hang on the edge of ecstasy.

  “I’ve wanted you so badly,” she whispers.

  “I have wanted you from the moment I saw you,” I admit. “Let me make you mine.”

  I spin her over onto her back and my Purity gives out a yelp of surprise, her smile telling me how much she enjoys this moment.

  “You’re so strong,” she murmurs, running her hands over my shoulders, admiring me.

  “There are none stronger,” I agree, flexing for her. She laughs and covers her eyes.

  “And you’re modest too,” she adds, still chuckling.

  “There I would have to disagree,” I tell her, still planting kisses on her lips and jaw. She holds her chin up for me, exposing her neck. My cock surges at the sight of her pale, moonlit flesh, vulnerable and exposed to me. I lean in and bite her gently, letting her know exactly who she belongs to. She moans and arches her back, inviting me to taste more of her and I oblige.

  Together we fight off the constraints of her breast covering. Though the light in the cave is slight, Purity seems to glow in it. I graze her peaked nipples with my knuckles and she gasps at the sensation. Kneading her mounds, I admire the contrast between us. She is the antithesis of all that I am. I wonder vaguely if it was the Gods who sent her to me, a counterweight to be my balance in this life. Wanting to taste her, I dip low, running my tongue over one nipple. She bucks against me, gripping at my head.

  “Kiss me,” she pleads again, but she angles my lips to her teats rather than to her mouth. I growl, enjoying the idea of tasting her here. I take what I have learned from Purity’s kisses and apply it to her breasts, giving them the same teasing licks I gave her tongue. But it is when I suck her nipples into my mouth that she truly goes mad, moaning and gasping against me. She writhes, tightening her hold on me, digging blunt claws into my scales. I relish the dull pain. It causes my seed to seep from the slit of my cock. My sac feels so tight it’s almost painful.

  I slip my hand between us, seeking out the heat of her cunt. Her thin covering is already soaked with her juices. I run my fingers over her veiled lips, longing to taste her. “Tell me, my prey. Will you go this wild when I kiss you here?”

  She bucks against my hand, seeking relief from the building pressure we both feel. “Please,” she begs, whimpering when I don’t delve deeper. My scales flick and more cum drips from my cock as it strains against my pants.

  “I like it when you beg me, prey. Do it again and maybe I will give you what you want.” I pull away from her, studying her expression as I stroke her mound, my movements painfully slow. She spreads herself wide for me, an invitation. But it is not enough. I want her to beg. She reaches down and tries to pull her panties aside, but I grip her wrist and pin it to the ground. She whimpers again and I growl, feeling primitive and anima
listic. I would devour her now. All I want is for her to beg me to do it.

  “Please, Hero, touch me. I want you, touch me.” Her voice is ragged with need and her eyes are heavy-lidded and desperate. It is everything I could ever want.

  I release her wrist and jerk her legs wider apart, she gasps in response, but it is quickly replaced by a scream when I rip the fabric of her panties, tossing them aside.

  “Oh my God, that was so fucking hot,” she tells me. I smile down at her. I would agree, but she wouldn’t understand me anyway. So instead I slip my fingers over her wet folds, spreading her open to expose her clit. She glistens with need. I dive down, starting with a long, slow lick up the length of her slit and ending at her swollen nub.

  If I thought Purity was nothing beyond soft and gentle, I was wrong. She grips my head and tightly wraps her legs around my neck, bucking and grinding so fiercely I think that perhaps she is a warrior and I am only just discovering her arena. Her cries of passion fill the cave, echoing off the walls. I am so lost… lost in her scent, lost in the taste of her desire, in the feel of her body beneath mine, yielding to me in a way more satisfying than any kill ever could.

  “You are mine,” I tell her, pushing a thick finger into her tight heat. She’s screaming now, speaking in tongues that I cannot follow. “Mine,” I tell her again, pumping my digit into her. I flick my tongue over her clit and her body stiffens, she digs her claws deeper into my shoulders. Purity is coming. I feel her clench around me and I glide my tongue over her clit, wringing her out. Slowly her body relaxes.