The Hunt: Complete Edition

by Anne Marsh

  “Why?” She shoved at his chest, demanding he give her space. He didn’t budge.

  “Because,” he said after a long, hot silence, “I thought you’d prefer a head start. Having just fought a challenge with an old friend for your favors, I’m torn between paddling your delicious little ass for the second time tonight—and fucking the living daylights out of you. If you’d like an audience, by all means stay here. Otherwise, I suggest you head up that corridor.” He indicated an unfamiliar corridor with a jerk of his thumb.

  She fought a flush. Arrogant bastard. Who did he think he was? Her mate, a small voice whispered.

  He pressed his lips against the back of her neck and she felt the wet flick of his tongue all the way down to her toes. A melting sensation unfurled inside her. She was furious with him, she reminded herself.

  “Don’t challenge me now, femi.” His voice was a sensual warning that she didn’t know if she wanted to heed—or deliberately flout. “I’m going to take you now and you agreed.”

  He snarled—snarled—at her, a low, dark rumble at the back of his throat that should have scared the living daylights out of her. It shouldn’t have excited her. Dimly, she recognized that her heart was pounding too loudly, her breath coming in small, hard pants.

  And not due to fear.

  “Mine,” Jafar said. “Every inch of you is mine now. I’ve earned the privilege and I’ve probably lost a good friend over you. Convince me you’re worth it.” The spicy scent of his pheromones surrounded her. Made her sex weep for the pleasure he’d shown her earlier. “The only choice you’ve got now is where and, if you’re very good”—his mouth curled—“how. One thing I can guarantee: I’m going to lick me a path from here”—his fingers swirled a teasing pattern against the tender skin at the base of her neck—“all the way down to the sweet bits.” His finger traced a blunt path down the curve of her spine, pressing her into his hard, hot flesh.

  He slowly thrust one blade into its sheath at his waist in a strangely sexual gesture. One large hand stroked gently over the sharp edge, drawing a bead of blood from his forefinger. He raised the injured digit to his mouth and licked the blood from it.

  “So, run, my femi. But I’m going to be right behind you, every step of the way.”

  She ran. In a completely uncharacteristic response, Miu darted away from him and down the corridor he’d indicated, while his graphic description of what he wanted to do—what he was going to do—replayed itself over and over in her head.

  The corridors were dark. Empty. Even her moon senses were of no use in the Stygian darkness that surrounded her. Finally, spotting what appeared to be a room with a door, she darted inside, then held her breath and waited, aware of the male following her almost soundlessly.

  Behind her, the door opened and closed with deliberate finality. Jafar made no attempt to hide his approach. The raw sensuality of the man striding toward her made moisture slick her sex; she heard a satisfied masculine chuckle from the darkness.

  “Alone at last.”

  He knew what his hard voice did to her. That her sex was swelling with anticipation, remembering the masterful touch of his fingers, petting, stroking the soft skin until she curled into his touch. She’d had other lovers, but none who made her feel this achy desperation for his touch. None she would have allowed to make her feel this way.

  Her eyes adjusted to the blackness, the outlines of the stone chamber coming slowly into focus. Somewhere far above them, a bit of the roof had fallen in, allowing a little light to penetrate. This was no ordinary underground room, she saw. It was a kind of cenote, a naturally occurring hollow where water collected. Most of the chamber was nothing but a deep pool. Jafar stood by its edge. The hard planes of his bare chest rippled as his hands went to the waistband of his linen wrap and pulled the material down over his lean hips. His scar gleamed, pale in the dim light of their hideaway, but her gaze was pulled to the large erection he sported. The thick length grew more as she watched, the broad tip of him ripe with color and need. A clear drop of liquid escaped and she groaned. The knowledge that he wanted her as much as she did him aroused her more than she’d thought possible.

  “Tossed virgin sacrifices in there, the Valley dwellers did, once upon a time.”

  “How very pagan.” She licked her lips. He was glorious in his nudity, worthy of pagan worship himself. “Are you considering doing the same?”

  “Do you qualify?”

  He knew she didn’t. His large hands skimmed lightly over the rocks around him, finding a natural depression that formed a sort of chair. He stroked the smooth rock indentation and her mouth went dry.

  “Come here,” he said. And then, “Place your leg here,” as calmly as if he were offering her a cup of tea. “Hesitate,” he added pleasantly, “and I will assume that our bargain is off. The Cats would be delighted.”

  Mastered. The sensation made her feel both vulnerable and aroused. He’d save her life and give her what she craved—but for a price. She’d answer to him. Sitting gingerly where he indicated, she swung her leg up and over the arm of the chair. The exposure was both overwhelming and titillating. In this position, her legs fell apart, but the worst part was that she wanted to show herself to him. He hadn’t asked her to do anything she didn’t secretly want. He examined her sex as he would an early-summer plum hanging from the branches of a fruit tree in a forcing house. It was as juicy now as any plum could be. Her lips parted with a slippery tingle as she placed her leg as Jafar directed.

  He leaned forward from his perch beside her. “Very good,” he praised. “You are wet. Put your fingers on your pussy,” he directed, “and hold your lips apart for me.”

  Part of her still wanted to protest. “You might master me here,” she gasped, letting her fingers fall to her waist. “But only here—”

  His dark eyes held hers. “Lower,” he demanded. “I want to see.”

  Shuddering, she let her fingers move lower. Jafar’s eyes darkened. Whether he knew it or not, her Guardian wasn’t as in control as he thought he was. He wanted her. She loved his reactions, the blazing light in his eyes, the almost imperceptible tightening of his muscles as he held himself back from pouncing on her. Her flesh swelled more, growing damper and wetter and slicker. In another minute, the cream would slip from her pussy and onto the unforgiving stone. Deliberately, she eased herself open, watching his face.

  “Have you displayed yourself like this before?” Polite curiosity colored his voice, but his eyes were that hot, molten gold she loved so much. Blazing with heat.

  He slipped the tip of one finger inside her and her sex gaped greedily around the digit.

  His thumb gently stroking the side of her pussy drove all thought from her head. A bolt of pleasure streaked through her. Knowing fingers. An urge to push down on the invading finger almost overwhelmed her. “Imagine how those Cats in the gallery would have taken you if you had not agreed to our bargain. They toy with their prey before killing, you know.” He looked down, examining her slick flesh with a heated gaze, and pleasure shot through her. “I’ll be large, more than you can take, but they would have had you, one after another. They would have crammed all that cock into your pussy until you howled.”

  Holding her gaze, he slid two fingers into her clenching pussy. “Would you howl,” he asked her, “from the pleasure or the pain of their possession?”

  The fingers stroked gently but firmly. “Put your fingers on your clit,” he ordered. “Obedience. That was our bargain.”

  Greedily, she did as he ordered. Her fingers pulled and teased the turgid bit of flesh. The orgasm was boiling up inside her and then the spasms seized her flesh, milking her Cat’s fingers.

  He stared down at her wet, clenching sex and smiled slowly. “Every day,” he promised. “I’m going to make you come every single day.”

  In the semi dark, she did not see where he’d been keeping the bells. All she knew was that the feel of the metal moving over her was a cool shock, the bells warming rapidly
as they slid over her skin, along the curve of her throat and down to circle both breasts and her nipples.

  “Sweet,” he said, pausing to explore the soft indent of her belly button. His hands skimmed lightly down her thighs with a soft chime. His hands fastened something—the chain—around her waist and the cool hard-sweet touch of the metal followed as fingers delved with shocking bluntness between her thighs, stroking the stiff clit and pushing the bells inside her.

  “Where,” she panted, “do you Cats usually place them?” The male in the catacombs had left too quickly. She’d seen nothing there. Now, she felt Jafar’s hard mouth stretch in a smile against the taut skin of her belly.

  “Wherever brings our partners the greatest pleasure. Some like to wear the bells for all to see; those choose the curve of an ear, the throat, or wrist. Others are naughtier.”

  She could believe that.

  “We can find out where you like them best.” He tugged gently and pleasure exploded inside her, a liquid burning rushing through her where he’d placed the bells. As if every nerve ending in her body were now intimately, directly connected to Jafar. She could feel his heart pounding and the loud rush of his blood. Then there was an incredible pulling sensation toward him. Sound roared in her ears, her entire body thrumming with tension. Desire. Unbearable heat.

  Dark words, poetic and brutal, poured from Jafar’s lips. “To you, my Huntress, I offer my soul. In you I trust and in your keeping place my soul. Your enemies are my enemies. Your lair is my lair. I defend you at all costs and none shall reach you but through me. You are the pride of my heart, hidden in the shadow of my arms from those who hunt us. You are my Huntress, the light of my life and always by my side. Call on me and I come eternally.”

  With each word, his fingers rubbed wickedly against the bells he had placed inside her. Fiery darts of pleasure rippling through her, she felt the mating bond snap into place between them. She could hear the blood rushing through his veins and the frantic pounding of his heart. When he reached out a hand toward her, she felt the smooth glide of muscles and—his Cat. She knew Jafar’s werebeast was close to breaking free, that he was fighting not to change in her arms.

  ***

  Miu was liquid fire in his arms, deliciously sensitive to his touch. As the chain of bells locked into place and the words of the mating ritual poured from him, pulled out of him by an unseen force, the mating bond activated. Bound them together with shooting tendrils of sensation that connected her body to his and his to hers in ways he couldn’t have imagined. Every luscious stroke of his fingers against her sex plucked at his own sensitized nerve endings. Sent the pleasure he gave her straight back to him. He fought to control himself, to keep the werebeast locked away. Away from her.

  If he felt what she felt, would he feel her pain as well?

  It was almost as if this new connection between them would not end when he slipped himself free of her body. That they were truly bound together, forever. Just mating with Miu had made him more vulnerable than he’d ever dreamed possible.

  Her hot, wet sex clenched around him in a sensuous demand. “More,” she ordered. “Give me more, Jafar.” Just who had mastered whom?

  “Yes.” Oh, he’d give her more. He had to give her more. “Open up,” he growled into her ear. Placing his hands on her thighs, he moved them firmly apart. She hesitated, gasping as her sex slowly parted again, the lips parting like well-oiled petals in a smooth rush that he felt in every inch of his own cock.

  Oh, gods above. Pink and glistening, she was spread open before him like the haururu flower that bloomed in the abovelands. He caught the same rich, exotic scent as he inhaled deeply. Moisture ran from her sex, the small opening already fluttering in tiny spasms. He stroked a finger around her hole, rubbing the bells against a particularly sensitive spot, and she moaned, her flesh clinging to his.

  His cock twitched wildly, alive with the pleasure of the same stroke. Mirroring hers. Each touch he gave her came back to him a hundredfold through the mating bond, his cock swelling to the same rhythm as her clenching pussy.

  Leaving the tip of his finger hooked in her hot sex, he bent his lips to the stiff clit that begged for his attention. Moaning softly, she pressed her legs wider—no reluctance, no fear of the Guardian between her thighs. Satisfaction and something stronger throbbed through him.

  “Pleasure now,” he promised, need making his voice harsh.

  She panted beneath him and, for the first time since he had been ruthlessly inducted into the ranks of the Guardians, he felt something new.

  “Pleasure for my femi.” His voice was a harsh whisper of need. Pinioning her hands behind her back with one of his, he used his shoulders to spread her thighs and her sex wider, and then he ate her. His tongue licked roughly, demandingly at the hard kernel of her clit. He suckled her without mercy, withdrawing each time she neared the edge, withholding the orgasm from her.

  “You will not come,” he promised. “Not until I am inside you.”

  “Wanna bet?” She stared up at him, dazed with her arousal. Oh, gods, he loved the sight of her. But her words? He laughed darkly. Oh, that was a challenge she would lose. He had spent a lifetime learning sexual restraint, sexual discipline. It was time he taught her, too.

  Moving his lips slowly back up her body, he finally claimed her mouth. He stood her up in the water then, ignoring her protest as he turned her around, bent her over the large stone where she’d been sitting. He grabbed both her hands, anchoring them on the rock with one of his. He was in control. She would not come until he allowed it.

  Jafar nudged her legs wide with his thighs and she could feel his cock at her entrance. This time, when he held her swollen, wet lips apart, he removed the bells, placing himself inside her instead.

  She shuddered with the pleasure. His mouth had teased and tormented her, denying her the relief that hovered so near.

  This was better.

  Thicker, fuller, sliding in and out with a sensuous rhythm that made her want to squirm beneath the heavy weight of the male body that pressed her down.

  And yet he held her still, prevented her from grinding back against him to take for herself the orgasm that she needed so badly. In. Out.

  The water of the cenote was warm, lapping teasingly at her pussy as he forced her legs wider still.

  She didn’t care. All she wanted was that orgasm he held so tantalizingly out of her reach—and that he was strong enough to give her. This partner, she thought with delight before pleasure rendered her incoherent, this partner could make her come for hours.

  His lower body thrust in a faster, deeper rhythm, surging inside her with powerful strokes that claimed her, marked her as his.

  “Now,” he promised darkly, sliding the hot, thick length of cock deep inside her aching sex. “Now you will come. With me.”

  He rode her with deep, fast, rough strokes. One bronzed male hand slipped around her body to find her aching clit.

  She could only keen with pleasure in response. His fingers stroked and tugged at her clit, massaging in deep circles around the pulsing point.

  The orgasm, when it came, ripped through them both.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  What could she say to him?

  Thanks for the most erotic night of my life? True, but the sentiment tipped her hand a wee bit.

  Do it again?

  Yeah, she liked that one.

  Let me go?

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to choose.

  She woke up alone.

  Jafar had apparently carried her off to his private chambers and left her there, mistakenly believing sex had resolved matters between them once and for all. A small smile curved her lips. Poor kitty. He was in for a shock if he thought she’d settle in to being a compliant little mate after one night of sex, no matter how mind-blowing or satisfying.

  Snap out of it. No time for mooning after the male. So what if he were the hottest thing she’d ever run across? The mark on her forearm twinged, reminding h
er that she had precisely one week to retrieve the necklace and take it to Lierr. Her hired guard Ebo was patiently waiting just outside the Valley. Just the travel from here to Shympolsk would take a week. Time was running out.

  She couldn’t afford to be sidetracked by the bargain she’d made with Jafar. So what if last night had been the best, most intense sex of her life? Just recalling Jafar’s feral intensity made her sex cream. Licking and biting. The sexy growl that erupted from his throat as he thrust deep inside her. He’d had her clenching and moaning and seeing red when she closed her eyes. He was that good. All right, so she’d fallen in with one sexy kitty—but she still had her priorities straight. Get the necklace. Leave the Valley. Exchange the necklace for her sister.

  Except she had acquired a different piece of jewelry altogether: Jafar’s bells. She could feel the damn things whenever she thought about it: first the soft press of the chain, and then the luscious slickness where the bells stroked her pussy. The slide of the metal against her labia as arousal built in a slow burn. Before she could stop herself, she stretched luxuriously beneath the thin fabric of the sheet, drawing the teasing metal caress up and down sensitive skin.

  Stop, she scolded herself. There was no time for self-indulgence. No more time to think about the Cat who’d tried to master her.

  She’d kept her end of the bargain. She’d mated with Jafar. Now she needed to be on her way.

  A god-awful racket coming from outside the room had her wrapping the sheet around herself and striding to the wide arch of a window. The opening looked out onto an interior courtyard currently being used for weapons practice.

  Tracing the noise to its source, she was reminded of just why it was wise to fear the Guardians. The warriors were sparring. Hard bodies collided, filling the air with male grunts and a musky, alluring scent. Counting quickly, she spotted more than thirty males down there. How was she to get past that many shifters to go looking for the necklace again? They dominated the open space, prowling about with lazy, lethal grace.