The Hunters: Byron and Kit

by Shiloh Walker

  Now she started to rock against the pulse of the water, humming low in her throat, sobbing as the stimulation brought her to the edge hard and fast. Byron had lowered one of her small feet to the ground, still bracing her weight as he slid two fingers inside her, pumping deep as she keened and cried out. Each time she came a little closer, he backed off. And he started to work the natural lubrication of her body lower, pressing against the sweet pucker of her ass, wishing she wasn’t a fucking novice.

  He was finally taking Kit, but he couldn’t take her the way he wanted.

  Her eyes flew open at the alien caress but instead of pulling away, she pushed against him, and slid down on him, oh, fuck, taking his index finger completely up her snug little ass as she shuddered and screamed, flinching at the pain but riding it and rocking against the caress of the water.

  Byron threw the shower nozzle away and leaned forward, catching her sensitized clit in his mouth. She screamed in startled, pained pleasure. Coming instantly, she rocked up and down, riding his mouth and riding the thick finger he had buried inside her ass. The shivers were still racking her when he stood, moving awkwardly to keep from dislodging her as he lifted her one-handed and drove inside, groaning as she continued to quake and shudder around him.

  “Byron…” she sobbed, reaching up and tangling her hands in his wet hair, staring up into his face, her eyes hot and pleading.

  He murmured softly, “Sweet little Kit, you feel so good. I’ve wanted this.” He punctuated it by driving deep, pounding into her, alternately with thrusts of his cock into her pussy and thrusts of his finger into her ass. “Will you let me fuck you here? You’re such a little thing, Kit. You’re so tiny, so tight.”

  “Anything,” she gasped, hot little chills racking her body as he invaded her from both front and rear. His large body covered hers completely, possessed her completely. His thick, long cock left her then burrowed back inside and she wanted to cry at the pleasure of it. Then he worked his finger back inside her ass and the hot, painful little pleasure drove her mad. Her nipples ached and burned and throbbed, his water-slicked chest rubbing against them as he fucked her.

  His dark blue eyes stared into hers, full of need and something that looked like tenderness. Kit was bewildered. She tried to think past the need that fogged her brain. How could he care for her and still send her away? He lifted her mouth and kissed her roughly, one of his fangs nipping her lip. He caught the lingering drop of blood hungrily and sucked it away before he muttered, “Stop thinking and feel. Feel this, feel me.” Driving inside, he held there, throbbing and still. Finally, he started to lift her, working her small, light body up and down his length. Reluctantly drawing his finger from her ass, Byron gripped her hips and stared into her stormy eyes.

  He moved slowly at first, until she started to wriggle and squirm eagerly. Then he started to move her faster and faster until he pinned her against the wall and plundered her tight little pussy, filling her with hard, rough digs of his cock that had her screaming his name.

  “I love you,” she wailed as she creamed around him.

  Byron shuddered against her and groaned as he came, whispering in her ear, “I love you, Kit.”

  Moments later, she struggled out of his arms, and away, moving out of the shower. He tried to hold her but she was nearly as strong as he and if this wet, angry woman didn’t want to be held, well, she wasn’t going to be held.

  “If you love me, then why are you sending me away?” she demanded, shoving her wet hair out of her face.

  Byron turned off the water and moved out of the stall, staring down at the tiny, defiant woman in front of him. “Kit, your father was my best friend. I swore to him that I would see that you were happy. You’ve never known anything outside of this. How can you know if this makes you happy if it is all you’ve ever known?” he asked wearily.

  Kit pounded her fist against her chest. “I know how I feel, Byron. I look at you and I feel my heart. My other half. My soul mate.”

  He cupped her face but she knocked his hand away. Sighing, he prayed for patience. “This is only for a while, Kit. To make sure you know this is what you want.”

  Nastily she said, “So I guess I’m to go out and fuck as many men as I need, live however I see fit, experience life to make sure this is what suits me.”

  Byron shoved down the insidious anger. She was trying to piss him off. He didn’t have to let her know it was working.

  “It’s for a short while, Kit. And I’ve made up my mind,” he said firmly.

  She smiled sweetly. “And I’ve made up mine,” she replied. She turned her back and started to walk away but Byron grabbed her and snarled, “You told me I could have tonight,” as he pushed his cock against her.

  “Go fuck yourself,” she snapped, squirming.

  “Why? You’re here, and you’re mine, and you’re what I want,” he said, reaching down and cupping her. She was wet from him still. He started to pump his fingers inside, laughing when she stiffened against him before helplessly starting to ride his hand. He pushed her down to her hands and knees and drove inside. Ignoring her furious cry, he focused instead on how she pushed back against him, and closed around his cock even though she wanted to walk away.

  Byron focused on the sweet keening wails that fell from her lips as he hunkered low over her body and fucked her slowly, wetting his finger again and sliding it inside the snug fit of her ass. She rocked back against him and he laughed. “Still want me to go fuck myself?” he asked, slapping her ass.

  She jumped and cried out, startled. He did it again, and she clamped down on his thick cock and came, quick and hard. She started pushing back on him hungrily, looking for another spank, another climax. “See?” he teased. “It’s more fun to fuck you.” He shoved her to the floor and wrapped her hair around his free hand, baring her neck before he struck. His fangs sank through the fragile skin, through the marks he had made earlier, and he fed again, groaning in rapture against her sweet skin.

  She cried out and arched up, pushing her ass against him, and he gripped her hip, riding her hard until they both came.

  They argued again.

  They fucked again.

  They showered again.

  They ended up in her room, where Byron went through the sex toys she had bought and he had decided he would use them on her until she saw reason. Kit had already seen reason. And she wasn’t giving in to him just because he was a big, sexy vampire who was used to getting his way.

  “For crying out loud, I’m not sending you away!” he shouted. “It’s just for a while. It doesn’t even have to be two years. A year. Okay? One fucking year. And if you’re still so fucking sure after it’s over, then so be it.”

  She glared at him and said, “If you send me away, I won’t come back.” Point blank.

  Byron froze. “Don’t say that.”

  She lifted her chin and repeated herself. “I mean it. I’m sure the Council can find something for me. If I leave here, that’s it. I’m gone for good.”

  He snarled at her and pinned her to the bed, taking her hands high over her head and tying them tight. Even an Inherent needed to be able to have leverage in order to take advantage of her strength, and he had just taken that away. He picked up one of the sex toys, the larger dildo she had bought out of curiosity but hadn’t used. Spreading her legs wide, he drove it halfway inside her without even preparing her, staring at her with cool, blank eyes. “Say it again,” he rasped. “Tell me you won’t come back to me.”

  “I won’t—”

  He pushed it harder inside and lowered his head to suck on her clit until she was screaming and hoarse from it. Then he stopped suckling her and started to fuck her with the big dildo, watching her with those cool, almost clinical eyes. “Are you coming back to me?”

  “Not if you make me leave,” she gasped.

  “Wrong answer,” he growled, his fangs flashing in his fury. He flipped her onto her hands and knees, spread the cheeks of her ass and licked her there, list
ening to her embarrassed little shriek. He used his legs to pin her in place while he picked up another toy, this one a slender wand-shaped dildo with a flared base that was designed for anal use.

  He lubricated it and slid it inside her, listening to her hungry cries as she tried to muffle them in the bed. He steadily slid it in even when she tried to squirm away. “Stop moving—you’re making it worse, Kit,” he told her impassively. Once it was lodged inside her ass, he moved her onto her back and resumed fucking her with that ridiculously long dildo and flicking her clit with his tongue. And every few minutes, he said, “Tell me that you’ll come back.”

  Finally, she sobbed out, “Damn it, I don’t want to leave! But your sending me away will kill me. If I leave, I am not coming back.”

  He moved up on her, taking the toy out and driving his cock inside. She whimpered in pain, in pleasure, in need, taking him deep inside. “Say you’ll come back to me,” he ordered roughly.

  She sobbed out his name and screamed as the climax rolled through her before he was even halfway inside her. Byron shuddered and worked his cock completely in, pulled out and burrowed back in. She wouldn’t truly stay away, not Kit, he thought as he rode her, her sweet wet pussy hugging him tightly as he slid back inside.

  She belonged to him. She belonged here.

  Then why are you sending her away?

  Byron drove desperately into her, as the sunrise came ever closer. Kit’s bedroom was full of windows and he could sense the lightening in the sky outside. Her silky cleft was swollen from being ridden all night, but she still lifted for him, still clung to him eagerly. Byron buried his face in her neck and groaned as his climax raged over him, building at his spine and burning through his balls and his cock.

  Chapter Four

  Byron gathered a slumberous Kit into his arms and carried her back to his room. A niggling little doubt was in the back of his mind as Kit nestled into his bed next to him. He clamped both arms tightly around her waist and asked, “Stay here?”

  “Can’t,” she evaded. “Hungry. Need another bath.”

  A vampire’s sleep wasn’t one that could be fought off until he had several centuries behind him. Byron only had one and a handful of years. “I love you,” he said, kissing her roughly.

  “I love you,” she said quietly, stroking one small hand down his arm.

  Byron listened to her steady heartbeat as sleep caught and held him. He should have made the others watch her. If he ordered them to make sure she stayed—he woke up remembering that was a foolish thought. She had agreed to come back.

  Then he froze as he climbed from bed.

  No.

  She hadn’t.

  Of course, he hadn’t told her when she would be going. And now he was thinking he really didn’t want her to go at all.

  So the sensible thing to do was—

  “The sensible thing? Now? When my bebè is gone he wants to do the sensible thing?” The voice that rolled through the room was one he had not heard in over two decades. Kristof was gone. Dead and gone. Of course, it was unmistakable, the odd blend of Russia and France. “Da, that is much sense you make now. The sensible thing.”

  And the voice that followed was also one that belonged to somebody dead. All French elegance and fancy French sex. Byron turned slowly and saw the two very solid, if somewhat, well, ghostly, forms hovering by the door.

  “Shit.”

  Kris laughed, his head falling back, that familiar joyful laugh that he had passed on to his daughter. “So eloquent, my friend. Da. You have stepped into shit, you have. She say what she mean, my Kit. She will not come back to you.”

  “I didn’t send her away!” Byron shouted.

  Bella smiled sympathetically. “That is how Katrine sees it, Byron. And if you want her back, then you will have to go to her and bring her back. Now.”

  “She needs some time to—”

  “Bah,” Kris spat. “Time? For what? To be lonely and miss you? Is that what you would have my bebè do for two years? Is this how you take care? By letting her be lonely? She is your mate. Bella tells me this, long before I died. I try to tell you, when I died. And I tell you now. Go to her now, or you lose her.”

  It was then that Byron remembered something he had forgotten. “My Bella is telling me…da, you had best remember that. Kit will want what she wants.”

  Kit will want what she wants.

  After searching quickly through the room, Byron dropped to sit on the bed, staring at his big rough hands.

  Shit.

  It would have been nice if Kit’s parents had bothered to tell him where their daughter had gone.

  She hadn’t taken the tickets he had purchased for her.

  She hadn’t taken the car he had given her when she had come home from college, or anything else he had given her. Just her own things, her own clothes, and her anger. He could still catch her scent in the house as he prowled through it later that night. Ben eyed him warily as he continued to search for Kit via the web. She hadn’t used her credit cards to purchase any tickets, which made it even harder to track her.

  She wouldn’t go to France, Byron suspected. She would know he’d come for her eventually and she would not be where she could easily be found or brought back. So she’d either go to ground or go someplace where she would be protected.

  And then he felt like pounding the wall with his fist.

  She’d already told him where she was going.

  The fucking Council.

  Chapter Five

  Byron stared at Agnes and fought the urge to blush. She always made him feel like she was trying to imagine him naked. The fact that she was born the same year he was didn’t change a damn thing. She looked like she was his great-great-grandmother. She was an amazing witch, and one of the most respected members of the council, but she was also downright mischievous.

  “Don’t tell me she isn’t here,” he warned, trying hard to keep his tone respectful. “I can hear her breathing and I can smell her. I won’t leave.”

  Agnes smiled and took her long cloak from the peg beside the door. “I’m thinking I’ll be going into town. For a day or two. The inner rooms are safe from sunlight and you are free to enter at your own will, now and forevermore, Byron Matthews of America, Hunter of the Council.” With that formal final remark, she threw the cloak over her shoulders and moved away, much quicker than a woman of her age should have been able to move.

  Byron crossed the threshold and moved inside. He was tired, he was fucking hungry and he was pissed. The council hadn’t told him a damned thing and he had been reduced to asking individuals. Fortunately the first one he had asked had known him, vaguely, but known him all the same. Malachi had looked at him, narrowed his ancient eyes and said, “You’re a friend of Eli’s.”

  “Yes,” Byron said cautiously, staring at the ancient in front of him. There was something about the red-haired vampire that commanded attention, commanded submission. Byron didn’t realize what a mark it was of his will that he didn’t fall and submit. He didn’t realize how much it set him apart from other, lesser Masters who were already centuries older.

  Malachi saw it, though—he recognized it. And wasn’t surprised at all at why Eli had befriended the dark, towering American. He’d be a powerful Master, a powerful Hunter. And like all powerful Hunters, he’d need powerful friends while he was young like this. The young ones tended to be targets early on. Better to take them out quick, before they became too powerful.

  Malachi’s mouth quirked in a slight smile. “Fucked up, did you?” he asked. “Go ask Agnes. She has a woman at her place. A wolf, if my sense of smell serves me. And I’d say it does. I’m smelling the same woman all over you.”

  Byron had dashed out without even hearing Malachi’s soft, “Good luck. Lucky bastard.”

  Now he was searching for her. Her scent filled the large house, it was everywhere. And she was nowhere.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He turned and saw her staring at him, wea
ring a big man’s shirt. Narrowing his eyes, he realized it was his shirt. He moved and had her around the waist without even realizing it, kissing her hungrily, greedily, his hands sliding up the shirt to find her naked little body warm and soft.

  “You left me,” he accused, pulling away to glare at her.

  “You sent me away,” she snapped, her eyes hot with indignation.

  “You weren’t supposed to leave yet, and I’d changed my fucking mind,” he snarled back, catching the hands she was shoving against his chest and pinning them behind her back. “I hadn’t told you to leave yet, had I? Stubborn little brat. Have you forgotten yourself? Forgotten me?”

  Kit refused to struggle once she realized she wasn’t getting away. His big, heavy body had her effectively pinned against the wall at this point, his cock cuddled against the softness of her belly, one hand pinning her wrists behind her back. Staring at his chest, refusing to look at his face, she said, “I wasn’t going to be thrown out on my ass. I’ve got more pride than that.”

  “Damn you,” Byron snarled as he released her wrists and caught her face in his hands, tangling them in her short hair, kissing her roughly. “I wouldn’t have thrown you out. You would have been put in a fucking limo, driven to the fucking airport, and flown to fucking France on my fucking plane. And you fucking know it! Why are you doing this?”

  She tore her eyes away from his chest and made herself meet his furious eyes. They were hot, wild and gleaming. His fangs had slid down and were flashing in his anger. The air in the room felt thick with it. Her own anger had burned out on the flight here, but staring at him now was causing a different kind of heat. “Why?” she asked softly. “You want to know why?”

  “Yes. I want to know why,” he growled, lowering his face until they were mouth to mouth. “I did not want to take you into my service. You were my ward, and I did not want you to have to serve and obey any Master, even one who would indulge you. But you chose to enter our world and now you are openly and flagrantly violating our laws. You left me without my consent. You could very easily be punished by the Council, whether I will it or no, so, yes. I want to know why.”