Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  Hunter glanced up, his brows raised and a half-smile lit up his dark eyes before he dipped his head and ran his nose along the seam of her vulva, her clit throbbing with anticipation.

  “Oh!” The jolt of pleasure his decadent action produced surprised her, but he appeared to be nonplussed as he slid his tongue into her slit and slowly undulated against the ultra-sensitive nerve endings there. She dug her heels into the mattress. “Mmm.” Her voice sounded husky, foreign as she planted her fingers in his scalp, plunging through his short, thick, curly hair, holding on for dear life.

  It felt like he was folding his tongue, making his way around her clit, closer and closer, but not touching as he licked and sucked like a large wild cat lapping up milk. He looked up again, slowly licking his lips and curling his tongue. “Mmm. Coconut pussy. My favorite.”

  Anitra inhaled quickly, her nerve endings firing on her exhale as she exploded, heat rushing straight to her head. Her heels lifted from the bed of their own accord and dug into his back as she wrapped herself around him, holding him closer. Something about knowing Hunter enjoyed her taste, curling his tongue, licking his full, perfect lips... The combination pushed her over the edge, and she was dimly aware of his moving back up her torso, the sensations in her body demanding full attention.

  She heard unintelligible sounds coming from her mouth, her vaginal walls contracting ravenously for him as she opened her heavy-lidded eyes, gliding her hands down the length of his sculpted chest to show her appreciation by wrapping both hands around his shaft, long and thick, the head reaching past his navel.

  She licked her lips, desperate for a taste of him. Oral sex had never been her thing, but until Hunter, no one else had ever activated every pleasure point, her body craving more contact. The voice inside her head screamed for him to fill every orifice at once, starting with her mouth.

  Releasing a ragged breath, she tried to speak. “I want… I want.”

  He narrowed his gaze, watching her as if searching for something in particular. “Say it. Tell me what you want.”

  “You!” she managed to answer, her breathing shallow. “I just want you!”

  He groaned and chose that moment to slide two fingers inside her as if he needed further proof before he rose up on his knees, effectively slipping from her grasp. Then positioned his thighs under hers and lifted her from the bed in one swift motion. She inhaled, releasing the breath as a gasp when he held her above him, slowly lowering her onto his cock, her inner walls slowly stretching to accommodate him, inch by glorious inch, still convulsing from the previous climax.

  She wrapped her arms around his broad back, clinging to him as he lifted her again, nearly pulling completely out before he plunged inside her again and went completely still. He closed his eyes as her vaginal walls clutched at his length, throbbing, pulling him deeper, as she tilted her head and nipped his bottom lip, drawing blood and then sucking the blood away. They looked into each other’s eyes, his cock pulsing inside her as he spoke without words.

  Suddenly he shifted, placing her on her back again, still lodged inside, then he began to move. And oh, God, the way he moved, pulling almost completely out, then delving between her slick walls, each thrust igniting fire at her core, volcanic blasts of pleasure causing her to writhe against him, the tips of her sensitized breasts pressed against his hard chest.

  His pectoral muscles jumped, vibrating as he supported his weight with one arm and slid his other hand to cup her behind, moving her with him as he developed a steady, driving rhythm, in and out, plunging deeper and deeper as her body welcomed him, drawing him in until he filled every millimeter.

  She felt the eruption building, starting at her core and fanning outward, firing every nerve into action as he continued thrusting faster, harder, his pace frenzied as his tethers of control weakened and snapped, their bodies combusting in unison. He roared, sending shock waves through her as she tightened her hold on him, shards of ecstasy rolling over her, wave upon wave as she lost herself, melding with him.

  Euphoria washed away every concern, every fear. She relaxed, sated, lulled by his steady heartbeat, and allowed her breathing to return to normal.

  If only she could have more than this one night, more of Hunter.

  Chapter Seven

  “More than this one night, more of Hunter.” Hunter carefully eased out of her warm body and lay beside her. Anitra’s breathing was slow and steady, peaceful. It was another desire. This gift of his - or curse, depending on the situation - often allowed him to know the desires of others even before they did, feeling it in his bones.

  Unable to sleep, he watched her. For the first time in his devastatingly long life, he wished for the ability to read all of another’s thoughts. Limited to hearing Anitra’s desires, he puzzled over the missing pieces. More than anything she wanted peace and rest, but from what? What troubled her? He would fix it and alleviate her worries, if only he knew.

  More than the jinn, the man in him wanted nothing more than to fulfill her every wish both inside and outside the bedroom, but he had only one day left to attend to Kushiel’s business. If not for Kushiel’s interest in helping him, he never would have found the clause allowing him to visit the surface for three days twice a year.

  He ran his middle finger along Anitra’s shoulder before covering her with the comforter. Would she still want more of him when the sun rose?

  If only… He shook his head, reminding himself that his softness for a woman had landed him in the pit, his damned soul chained for eternity. The entire incident played out in his mind. Azazel, his asshole father, kept him caged most of his childhood, only letting him out to train in combat, endurance, and what he called “obedience training,” teaching him to read only because the ability made him better equipped to serve. Born with his father’s ability to speak any language, Hunter had been taught to read every language as well. The extraordinary ability had served others well, including Kushiel.

  Azazel used women for pleasure, often killing them during sex or soon after, but there was one, a succubus named Lenora, who held his evil father’s attention for some time – years, in fact. Unlike the others, she came and went as she pleased, as long as she came when Azazel summoned her, and she often came uninvited. On one of these occasions, Lenora caught a glimpse of Hunter when he was still a child.

  Hunter stood, careful not to wake Anitra. His vivid memory of Lenora forced him to pace, torturing himself, reliving the worst tragedy of his life. Lenora quickly became the only mother-figure Hunter had ever known. He could still hear her soft voice as she sat, reading him stories, flashing out of his room whenever she sensed Azazel’s approach. “And who might you be, beautiful boy?”

  Lenora’s genuine concern delighted him, much like Anitra’s warmth did now, but he realized some time ago that Lenora was more of a maternal figure through the eyes of a child, while Anitra...only time would tell, but his feelings for her were far from familial, and the man inside him wanted a totally different kind of relationship, obviously.

  He remembered immediately conjuring an orchid for Lenora, her favorite flower, handing it to her between the heavy iron bars. She smiled, telling him how beautiful it was before instructing him to send the flower away and promising to return. Hunter remembered his surprise when Lenora actually kept her word, returning to read him stories. Her soft voice eased years of abuse and neglect, and allowed him to imagine other places. He loved her for that.

  Anitra stirred, lines forming between her brows. She wanted warmth. His first thought was to conjure a blanket for her, but then he realized she was dreaming of him. He returned to the bed and climbed in beside her, wrapping his arms around her soft body with his chest against her back. As soon as he touched her, his cock stood at attention, poised to enter her again.

  She pressed against him, teasing his erection with her voluptuous bottom, her invitation unmistakable. Her sexual desire did not surprise him. His ability to give any woman whatever she wanted had always made him a sou
ght-after partner in bed, but Anitra actually spoke his name in her dream. Hunter aimed to please, delving into her creamy, welcoming canal in one long, slow stroke as she moaned and reached back to graze his face with her fingers. “Hunter,” she breathed, her voice sultry, drifting out of restful sleep. “Mmm. How did you know?”

  “How did you know?”

  She rested her hands on his, entwining their fingers at her lower belly. “You feel so good inside me. I want to...”

  He slid out of her sheath and turned her to face him, granting her request before she finished asking. He took a moment to enjoy the look of awe on her lovely face before plunging inside her again, harder and faster as she nudged him, rolling on top. He rested his hands on her ample hips, her ass tilting up and down, her eyes closed, arms braced with her palms planted on his chest. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever witnessed as she rode him until the sun’s rays pierced the darkness.

  His body broke apart, weightless, shattering every painful memory. Did he dare hope? Could Ms. Lillian’s acclaimed matchmaking skills work even for a resident of hell such as himself? The bright light of her soul beckoned to him and he ached to stay, to spend the day with her, but his time was at an end. He waited until she fell asleep again before handing Rumor his heated meal, surprised when the animal accepted it from him. He remained still for a moment, then silently left, doing his best to ignore the dog’s whimper of protest, and finding it even harder to quiet his own.

  Chapter Eight

  Anitra woke with a start and sat up, snatching the comforter from her naked body. She wanted to thank Hunter for the most unbelievable sex she had ever had, and hug him for the most restful sleep she had enjoyed since the murder of her family. Her stomach sank, disappointment washing over her to the point of physical pain. He was gone. Somehow, she knew he was not just gone from the room, but from her life.

  “No, no, no!” She did not care who overheard. She wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to ease the pain in her stomach, but nothing helped. “It’s just so damned unfair,” she whispered. Following the murder of her family, she had seen pictures of Arardo’s crimes. The string of satanic, soulless murders, as well as heinous acts from drug trafficking to human trafficking, were burned into her memory forever, images of mutilated children, their tiny naked bodies broken and tossed in wooded areas, two on church property.

  Anitra’s father was no saint, but the human trafficking and children’s bodies were his turning point, pushing him to do what should have been done long before. She scrubbed her hands through her hair, relegating the painful memories to her subconscious again as she chided herself for neglecting to ask what Hunter’s last name was. Disappointment weighed on her, surprised by her own carelessness, so unlike her usual behavior. Heat rushed through her body. Her throat felt tight and single drops of hot water fell on her thighs. Like so many other things she had lost, Treva had not shed a tear since her family was murdered.

  Rumor moved from the perch he must have taken during her sleep and licked her face, touching her with his sandpaper paw in an attempt to soothe. Anitra placed her hand on his chest in acknowledgment, but even her best friend could not end the pain of loss.

  Flashes of one-night stands crossed her mind, shame and guilt accompanying her thoughts. All that time, there had never been one she felt this kind of connection with, and she had at least asked their full names. The others had fulfilled her need for warmth, rest, and the very human desire to be held, even though the relationships were superficial at best, but this…this was something more, evoking needs and desires she had never been aware she had.

  Anitra stood, turning in circles as she glanced around the room before crossing the living area into Hunter’s bedroom. Maybe he had left something behind, something to help her find him. As soon as the thought came, her rational side reminded her not to expect anything.

  When she searched his room, she saw that everything was in its place, as if no one had been there at all. She returned to her room and picked up her phone to text Ms. Lillian. Maybe she could at least get Hunter’s last name, a phone number, something to begin her search. Searching for him was a given. She had lost her entire family and spent every day of every year running, never in one place long enough to develop new ties, but Hunter was different. She wanted... No, needed him in her life.

  Hunter double-checked the coordinates he’d been given, then transported to Vegas to complete Kushiel’s assignment. Now, he stood facing a stone mansion. An eight-foot wrought iron gate surrounded the property. Once Kushiel conveyed what he wanted, Hunter had all the information he needed, no questions, no mistakes.

  Hunter jogged around back. He had been Kushiel’s prized assassin for centuries because of his exceptional skills and, until today, he had never been asked to deliver the soul personally. Kushiel paid him well, using gold and diamonds which Hunter invested in utilities and stored in heavily insured credit unions. The fact that he had no use for Kushiel’s material payments did not matter. It was a gesture of kindness on Kushiel’s part, offering Hunter a small sense of normalcy.

  He possessed the ability to easily conjure anything he needed, including all the gold and diamonds he would ever want, but Kushiel insisted on giving him something he did not have to conjure for himself. He had to admit he enjoyed it. Gift-giving lost its luster when he had to give them to himself.

  Over the years, he had gotten to know Kushiel very well, and questioning him was not an option. He could not help wondering though. What was so special about this soul that Kushiel wanted him to deliver it personally?

  Hunter seldom bothered to look into the target’s mind, that ability quickly losing its appeal since he had witnessed so many unspeakable atrocities first-hand, but he wanted to know this time. Children’s and women’s screams of pain crashed into his mind, broken bodies dumped on church grounds, and he immediately knew what the creature in front of him was capable of.

  Hunter immediately dropped his head, a suicidal question for Kushiel on his tongue, but he caught himself before allowing it to form completely in his mind or slip from his lips. How long did you allow…?”

  Whatever. Kushiel and Ms. Lillian were both masters of many secrets – more-so than even he could imagine. Just get it done. He waited as long as he could to catch the mark asleep, making every attempt to keep this as painless as possible, but a female occupied his bed and Hunter hated collateral damage. Why should the woman have to lose her life just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time?

  He flashed directly into the room with the mark and received the usual reaction. The middle-aged man looked up in shock, his bourbon-filled glass crashing to the parquet floor. “Who the hell are you and how the fuck did you get in here?” Well, maybe not so usual. Most people started whimpering as soon as they saw him coming towards them, but of course, this was not exactly the same. An escaped dark spirit like the others Kushiel had released Hunter to exterminate, the difference between this one and the others had to be the mark’s original target.

  Hunter remained silent and rendered the man-creature incapable of movement or speech. He generally didn’t bother to know the names of his victims, but again, something was different about this one. The man had pictures of himself in three places in this room alone, and his plaques and accolades littered the walls – Sidney Arardo.

  Hunter wondered if Sidney, the man, had been as self-absorbed before possession as the evidence led him to believe. The Sidney Arardo in front of him was certainly an arrogant, entitled bastard. Not that any of that really mattered as he slowly walked over to the man, his body simply a carrier now. Sidney’s eyes pleaded with him, but that did not matter either. He had a job to do, and Kushiel was nothing if not just and efficient. Screams invaded his mind again, and he narrowed his eyes, pure hatred rising to the surface. What kind of coward hurt women and children?

  Hunter stood over an inert Sidney and removed the golden flask. He slowed Sydney’s heart, shutting down his major organ
s. His death would appear to be a heart attack – death by natural causes. Just as Sidney’s heart took its last beat, Hunter reached through Sidney’s mouth and removed his soul, a dingy object attesting to the wrongs he had committed against others. This act prevented the demon’s escape.

  Hunter shuddered at the thought of what his own soul must look like. Murder. Multiple murders. No, murder was a word reserved for the innocent. The creatures he put to death were far from innocent, and that definitely included this one.

  He forced the slimy miasma into the golden flask, sealed the top, and flashed back to the entrance of the pit. He would have to climb down just as he climbed out, his powers rendered useless as soon as he took the first step down. He sighed and started his descent, unable to stop thinking of Anitra. Sadness overtook him again as he considered the prophecy, assuming his chance for a relationship with her was over.

  Chapter Nine

  Anitra glared at her phone. “Ach! Why won’t you text me back?” Hours had passed since she texted Ms. Lillian, but she had not heard anything yet. She felt almost sure Ms. Lillian could read her mind no matter where she was, so she tried to keep her frustration to a minimum. She sat on the side of the bed, drumming her fingers on the mattress. Then it occurred to her - the resort manager would know Hunter’s last name.

  She grabbed her jeans and one of the new T-shirts purchased in the shopping mall downstairs. After one last cursory glance around the suite, she picked up her keycard, reassured Rumor she would be right back shortly, and headed for the elevator.

  Thanks to Ms. Lillian, she still had a few days at the resort to decide what to do next. What she would do or where she would go after that, heaven only knew, but at least she was out of Vegas. Her thoughts consumed with Hunter, she almost forgot the constant dread of being hunted...almost.