Heart of a Huntress: The Kavanaugh Foundation

by Crista McHugh

  Her hand wrapped around his cock as she continued lower. It throbbed in her hand in time with the dull ache forming in the pit of her stomach. She wanted him and all his male magnificence inside her, but when she tried to straddle his lap, he pushed her back into the pillows.

  “Eager, huh?” His lopsided grin teased her almost as much as his erection rubbing against the inside of her thighs. “Perhaps I should teach you the benefits of patience.” And with that, he unhooked her bra and took her bare breast into his mouth.

  Her sex spasmed with the first swipe of his tongue, and a whimper rose in her throat. “Please don’t tease me all night.”

  His chuckle vibrated through her chest. “There’s teasing, and then there’s foreplay.” His teeth grated against her nipple while his fingers massaged the other breast.

  “There’s foreplay, and then there’s torture.” She dug her nails into his shoulder and lifted her hips, desperately trying to reach the angle where the head of his cock could penetrate her pussy. She’d never physically needed a man like this before, and it almost scared her.

  He laughed again and moved lower, his tongue now swirling in the hollows of her navel. “But what sweet torture.”

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, hoping he was heading where she thought he was. Talk about sweet torture. What was a girl to do but sit back and enjoy it? Her eyelids grew heavy, and her brain shut down so she could focus only on the basic sensations: the feel of his hands on her hips, the lingering taste of his kiss, the smell of their arousal in the air.

  His finger hooked the top of her panties and pushed them aside before delving into her slick folds. It grazed her swollen clit, making her whole body stiffen in pleasure. He lifted his head, smiling at her reaction, and repeated the action. “Should I continue?”

  Lana didn’t trust her lips to form coherent words while his finger continued to toy with the tiny nub, so she just nodded.

  “Do you have any idea how much you’re turning me on?” He bent down and spread her thighs apart. His tongue slipped into her damp crevice. “How delicious you taste?”

  “Byron, please, I’m so close.” The reality of her statement shocked her. Even with her toys, it seemed to take forever to reach an orgasm, and he already had her teetering over the brink.

  His tongue danced a dizzying swirl about her clit while two of his fingers explored the deeper recess of her sex. The combination of rough and gentle, lapping and suckling, stroking and coaxing, culminated in a tension that coiled tighter and tighter until it reached the breaking point. She remembered shouting his name before she became lost in the deluge of bliss.

  The last waves of her orgasm began to recede when she heard the crinkling of a foil wrapper. She instinctively spread her legs wider to accommodate his hips. With agonizing slowness, he entered her, filling her completely and stretching the walls of her pussy with his girth. An expression of pure ecstasy alternated with tense restraint on his face.

  Worry over his internal battle almost ruined the moment for her. What is he thinking? She traced the lines of his face with her fingers. Why is he holding back? Does he think he’ll hurt me? She shifted her hips, allowing him to go deeper inside her, and sighed. “Dear God, Byron, you feel so good.”

  Her words seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. He began to move inside her, taking his time with each stroke and driving her nearly insane with lust. His eyes remained fixed on her face, but she didn’t care what kind of funny contortions her features took. She needed to come again, and he seemed all too happy to oblige. Her hips moved to meet his and urged him to go faster.

  “I have to be careful. I don’t want to—” His words broke off in mid-sentence when she clenched her walls around him. “You have no idea…”

  She pulled his lips to hers and kissed him until they couldn’t breathe. “Don’t worry about me. Just finish what you started.”

  “My. Sweet. Sexy. Lana.” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his cock, hitting her G-spot and bringing her back to the verge of coming again.

  This is too good to be real. How can a man I’ve just met know me so well?

  Sweat coated their bodies in a salty sheen she tasted every time her tongue touched his skin. He alternated his rhythm, speeding up until she almost came and then slowing down to draw out the experience as long as possible. Wickedly long. But she relished each second. After tonight, she’d never know the delight of being in his arms again. She’d never feel him inside her. Never feel wanted and cherished and—

  Her thoughts halted as another wave of pleasure slammed into her, shattering her body and almost seeming to merge her consciousness with Byron’s. What had been a purely physical sensation morphed into something deeper when she met his gaze. For a second, she swore she saw his soul right before a strangled cry broke from his throat and he came inside her.

  His body trembled under her hands while he experienced his own roller coaster of bliss. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, kissed his face and neck, and toyed with the idea of never letting him go. She knew from the moment she met him he’d wreak havoc in her life, but she had no idea how one night with him could shake up her whole existence.

  He collapsed and rolled off her, panting. Her body suddenly felt cold and abandoned. She cuddled next to him, eager to regain his warmth. One arm wrapped around her waist while the other brought her hand over his pounding heart. His male scent filled her nostrils and calmed her.

  “Lana, I never expected—I mean, I—” His brows scrunched together. “I’ve never experienced something that intense before.” Then his eyes shot open and he flipped her over, running his fingers over her bare skin. Panic crept into his voice. “I didn’t bite you or hurt you, did I?”

  She giggled over his concern. “Why? Are you in the habit of doing such things to your lovers?”

  Her chest tightened. Did I dare imply I was his lover?

  “No, but I especially didn’t want to hurt you. Just toward the end, I seemed to lose track of where I ended and you began, and I…” He paused and cupped her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. A strange glow illuminated their hazel depths. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this night.”

  “Neither will I.” Her throat grew raw from unshed tears. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry. She should take every precious second and enjoy it instead of mourning the future. She’d deal with that in the morning.

  He kissed her forehead and cradled her in his arms. His body grew still next to hers, and a few minutes later, his light snoring signaled that he’d already surrendered to his exhaustion. She pulled the sheets up to her breasts and closed her eyes. In the morning, she’d explain the rules to him. Although, based on the way she was feeling right now, she could become all too comfortable with sleeping in his arms every night for the rest of her life.

  Chapter Eight

  When Byron opened his eyes, a veil of disorientation clouded his vision. A warm body snuggled closer to his, and his breath froze. Then memories of his night with Lana flooded his mind and drained away any lingering signs of panic. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tighter to him, marveling at how well her soft flesh molded against his.

  Usually he’d wouldn’t have lingered in bed long enough to enjoy the aftermath of sex. As soon as the woman dozed off, he’d be out the door. Staying longer risked forming an attachment, something that would become a pipe dream as soon the full moon rolled around. But for the first time in his life, he wanted something more, but only with Lana.

  Now the question remained, when should he tell her about his monthly problem?

  Her expression when she traced his scars still haunted him. He’d almost told her everything then. As it was, she knew more about his scars than most people. Had she already put the pieces together? Would her acceptance still apply when he informed her of the lingering aftereffects from this mauling? The gentle way she’d kissed his marred flesh sparked something inside him and pulled at his heart to the point it ached. For on
ce, he felt more like a man and less like a monster, and his feelings for her changed from lust to something stronger.

  Her face appeared so peaceful under the wild tangle of her dark hair. He brushed it back and watched her sleep. The same emotions from last night overwhelmed him, and he allowed them free rein rather than cursing them. He had always joked that Eddie’s description of a true-mate was nothing more than a fairy tale, but now that he’d met Lana, he considered the possibility that maybe the old man had known more than he’d let on. Did he dare disrupt things when they seemed so perfect?

  A smile played on her lips, and she murmured his name.

  A possessive streak blindsided him, and the wolf inside bared his teeth. She was his and his alone. After today, he refused to share her with anyone. Drool gathered under his tongue like someone had just served up a hot porterhouse steak. He needed to mark her, to claim her as his own. Then there wouldn’t be an issue of whether or not she accepted that he was a werewolf. She’d be one, too.

  Disgust churned in his stomach, and he bolted from the bed. He needed to get away from her before he acted on this instinct. His mind abhorred the idea of forcing her to become like him, even though his bestial nature argued it was the next logical step. Bring your mate into the pack. Finish the mating process. Make her yours for the rest of your lives. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to crush those thoughts in his mind.

  “Byron, are you okay?” Lana sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

  Her scent, now stronger than ever, called to the wolf within. Bite her. Ravage her. Do it now before she disappears. He tore his eyes away from her and stared out the window. “Yeah, just waking up.”

  “Not a morning-after person, huh?”

  The bitterness in her voice chilled him to the bone, and he pounced on her before she crawled out of bed. His lips sought hers, seeking their warmth and reassurance the way his lungs sought air. When had he become so dependent on her?

  She resisted at first by digging her nails into his shoulders and trying to push him off. But he refused to budge and kept placing gentle kisses around the rim of her mouth until she yielded to him. Her body relaxed and molded to his. The sweetness of her mouth contrasted with the heat between her legs, but they both beckoned him like a cheery house on a cold winter’s night. This was his home; this was where he belonged. And the beast inside seemed sated for the moment.

  He forced himself to end the kiss before things got out of hand. “Sorry for earlier. I haven’t had much practice in situations like this.”

  “Neither have I.” Her fingers twisted the hair at the nape of his neck and tried to pull him back to her lips. Her legs shifted so his erect cock brushed against her folds, already slick and inviting.

  As much as he longed to feel her tight walls around him again, he knew he had to stop this dangerous game before his bestial nature grabbed hold of him and he bit her hard enough to turn her. “Careful,” he warned, cupping both her cheeks. “I don’t have any more condoms.”

  Those six little words worked like magic. Her demeanor cooled and she released him. Lana might take chances with some things, but not with STDs and unwanted pregnancies, it seemed.

  Not that it mattered much to him. Being a werewolf protected him against diseases, and the only way he could impregnate her was if she became like him.

  Her lower lip jutted out in a slight pout. “Then I guess the fun’s over.”

  “For now, anyways.” Once I get a better hold of myself, I plan on making love to you all night long.

  The muscles in his neck tensed as the implication of that phrase hit him. “Making love” instead of “fuck”. Now he knew he was in over his head.

  “Worried about something?”

  Yeah. Terrified over losing my heart and head and realizing this so-called mating myth might actually be true—the good, the bad and the ugly of it. Even though she still had the free will to reject him, he didn’t. And if she did spurn him… He shuddered at the consequences. She now held his life and his sanity in her hands. But how could he tell her that without exposing his weakness?

  He could have sworn he saw lightning flash in their steely grey depths as she watched him try and come up with a suitable answer to her question. She shoved him aside, yanked the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her naked body. “Never mind. I’ll just find my clothes and be on my way.”

  “Lana, please, don’t leave this way.” He tried to grab her shoulders to stop her, but she avoided him with the fluid grace of a ninja.

  She threw the rest of the covers aside and snatched her underwear off the bed. “I should have known the only man who would be interested in me would have issues.”

  “Shit, it’s not what you think.”

  “No?” She stood so her face was inches from his but their bodies never touched. “Then why do you look like you’re about to have a panic attack? Is this the first time you’ve been caught by a woman before you snuck out or something? What kind of scumbag are you?”

  His gut tightened, and his anger helped break the paralyzing bonds of fear. “It’s not what you think.”

  She threw the hand clutching her lace panties up in the air and let an exasperated sigh escape from her lips. As soon as she gathered the rest of her clothes, the bathroom door slammed shut with her on the other side, dividing them.

  A stream of curses erupted as he grabbed a pillow and hurled it across the room. He usually abhorred violence, but at that moment, the idea of smashing something tempted him more than he cared to admit. She’d gotten under his skin, become part of him, and she was running away before knowing half the story.

  He took a deep breath and let it cleanse some of his frustration from his mind. Pull yourself together, Byron, or you’ll lose her forever. He rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door. “Lana, please open the door and give me a second to explain.”

  The door cracked open. “The clock’s ticking.”

  The bright lights of the vanity caught the glittering drops of moisture in the corners of her eyes, and guilt sat on his shoulders like a barbell with too much weight on it. “Dammit, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  Her hand swiped her eyes. “Who said I was crying?”

  So this was the woman some unseen hand had chosen for him. Strong, beautiful, infuriatingly stubborn, but capable of turning him into mush. Instead of grabbing him by the nuts, she had him by the heartstrings. “If I appeared worried, it’s only because I’ve never felt this way about someone before. It hit me with the force of a tidal wave, and I’m still trying to get my feet back under me before I get carried out to sea. I’ve tried to get you out of my mind, but every time I see you, the pull becomes more intense.”

  The door opened wider. Her lips parted and her face softened. Maybe she did understand what he was going through. Maybe she had experienced the same thing. “So you’re scared of getting hurt?”

  “A little. I mean, you kill vampires for a living. What chance does a guy like me have against you?” She smiled in sync with him and even chuckled at his joke. “But in truth, I’m more worried about hurting you.”

  She leaned against the doorjamb so that her naked body struck an unconsciously sultry pose—one that had all the blood rushing from his head to his cock. “I’m not as fragile as you think, Byron.”

  He closed the space between them and inhaled her scent. His heart raced. “Would you be angry with me if I handled you with care anyway?”

  “Maybe. I might be more upset if you held back on me at certain times.” She pressed her lips against his in a gentle kiss. “But thank you for trying to look out for me.”

  She’d forgiven him. A combination of relief and desire coursed through his veins. He stumbled forward to kiss her again but ran into a closing door.

  “Do you mind if I take a shower before I go?”

  Her question served as a splash of icy water to his face. Whatever magic the moment before had conjured up vanished. “Um, sure, go ahead.”

&
nbsp; The sound of running water filled the silence from the other side.

  What the fuck just happened? Hot one second, cold the next. Byron flopped on the bed and bathed in the harmonious smells of their lovemaking instead of trying to figure her out. Last night had almost seemed too easy. He’d known exactly how to touch her, how to kiss her, how to stroke her until she cried his name out in ecstasy. Today brought a whole different set of challenges that left him hard, frustrated and eager for more. He’d had blue balls before, but she caused her own level of physical ache.

  Just tell her and get it over with. Why torment yourself any longer than you have to?

  He leapt from the bed. The bathroom door remained unlocked, much to his surprise. Steam coated the mirrors and fogged the air. On the other side of the glass door, Lana’s soap-covered body called to him like a siren’s song. His mouth went dry.

  It took several seconds before his hoarse voice managed to croak, “Care if I join you?”

  She stuck her head out the door. “What took you so long?”

  His cock stiffened when he realized she’d been inviting him in the whole time. The beast inside urged him forward, despite the small set of warning bells that went off in his head. He could control himself, couldn’t he?

  The warm water pelted his skin but did little to lessen his pounding pulse. He wrapped his arms around her waist so his erection pressed into her full buttocks and bent his head down to press his lips against her shoulder. The slight taste of soap lingered on her skin.

  Lana gasped at his touch and then melted against him. Her hands gripped his hips while she wiggled her ass. Now it was his turn to suck the air in through his teeth. What kind of game of seduction were they playing? He slipped his fingers into her folds and rubbed her clit. She moaned and released him, now needing her hands to support her body as she pressed them against the tile.

  He watched in a trance as her body writhed in pleasure. Her moans, pants and cries grew louder every time he increased his pressure or varied the tempo of his touch. With one arm around her waist to keep her on her feet, he adjusted his other hand so he could explore the depths of her pussy with two fingers while his thumb still stimulated her swollen nub. He closed his eyes and imagined how wonderful it would feel to have his cock replace his fingers.