Untamed Hart
Page 5
Her lip trembled. He was torn between diving into the ocean of her gaze, and tracing this shudder along her mouth.
Pain lashed deep as he moved his hand, tearing through tendon and bone. A beaten snarl slipped free as the blood flowed, and the numbness followed. The snap of a twig ripped through the forest. He jerked his head right. Movement stole his focus. He scanned the trees and thickets…searching
The Mistress was out here.
Watching. Waiting.
Possessing the black air…the bitch had always been braver at night.
A shudder quaked deep, rising out of the pit that’d been his soul.
He’d cut her from his skin, just as he’d cut her from his mind. He’d cut and cut…and still…she remained.
I know what you want. Her haunting words resurfaced.
He closed his eyes, bones ground under his fingers, bones and warm flesh. A tiny whimper swept over him as he dragged the Fae close. She toppled against him. He gave her no choice…just like he had no choice.
You want to kill…isn’t that right my big, bad wolf? You want to kill Allendra.
His jaw tightened. Teeth cracked. You’re dead. Leave me the fuck alone.
The dark need rose. Kill the Creator, kill the Mistress—he turned his focus to the woman in his grasp—kill…
Her hair brushed his chest. He dropped his hand to her shoulder, and bent as he grasped her hips. She didn’t have time to react as he lifted and heaved her over his shoulder. His muscles barely strained. She weighed nothing at all.
“No. Stop. Put me down! Put. Me. Down!”
Her shift rode high as she kicked and bucked. He gripped her tight and skirted the corner of the cabin. Twilight had moved in over the clearing, stealing what little light he had to work with. But he knew this place better than anyone, and the secrets this old place kept.
“She’ll be here soon,” he whispered.
The Fae lashed out. Her fist connected with the side of his head, smarting his ear with a lick of fire. Hart strode through the open door of the shack and tossed her gently toward the floor.
Her feet hit the ground, and she buckled. She slapped her hands against the wall. Dust and splinters rained from the ceiling, still the old shed held as the Fae braced herself.
Hart turned away, leaving her to stare through the cracks of this forgotten prison and strode toward the door.
“Who…”
The ravaged nerves in his wrist twitched and jerked. His fingers bounced across the protruding nails. Still he didn’t turn from the open door. Instead, he looked to the faint stars sparkling in the dusk filled sky and inhaled the rotting stench of his soul.
“You said…she’ll be here soon. I want to know who that is…I want to know who she is. Who are you working with?”
He shook his head as the Mistress took form inside his mind. “You don’t understand…I had no choice. I had no choice…she…”
The faint sound of laughter echoed from the trees. Goosebumps raced. He clenched his fist, squeezing until his knuckles popped. But still he was weak…he was so fucking weak.
The child inside him fought the killer. Part of him wanted to surrender and beg forgiveness.
But the deeper part of him, the part where foulness lingered wanted more.
He wanted satisfaction. He wanted to be cruel…to inflict and to feel and to stop this downward spiral…
He needed a breaking point.
He slapped the door with his palm. The hinges moaned, tearing through the cluttered space as he turned. Her hair shone like silver strands of the sun. Her gaze focused on him, watching his every move.
He sucked in the air, desperate for the bitter scent of fear and found…nothing.
The woman wasn’t afraid.
He took a step. “I was coming for you…did you know that?”
The hitch of her breath sped his heart. She glanced at the door behind him.
He took in everything…every shudder…every darting gaze, and for this second this was all he had, and all he needed.
She shuffled backwards. Her hands splayed on either side of her body. She stood wide-eyed and beautiful, giving him a slight shake of her head. “You won’t hurt me, Hart.”
The sweet lilt of her voice echoed inside his head. There was something familiar about her. Something eerie and haunting that reached deep inside him.
“You don’t know that.” He snarled and slapped his palm against the wall.
The shack trembled. Something cracked, still he didn’t care.
This tiny woman commanded his attention. She raised her head, keeping his gaze as he leaned over, boxing her in, and whispered. “Yes, I do.”
A knowing sparkled in those blue eyes. There was no conceit, only a cold, hard truth that resonated inside him.
Her lips parted, drawing him closer.
Anger reared inside him, casting him from her spell.
His lips curled as he dropped his head. Bitter words tasted like acid in the back of his throat. “You don’t know me at all.”
He dropped his hand to her shoulder, fisting the silky fabric of her shift, and wrenched her from the wall.
She stumbled and slammed into him. He liked the feel of her, liked the way she refused to whimper…liked the way she wrenched her shoulder from his grasp.
His fingers burned as the fabric slipped from his fist. His hand found her neck. Thumb and fingers slipped under the hard line of her jaw. He jerked her head backwards, bowing her body.
Still she didn’t yield.
Defiance blazed in her eyes, blending the blue into a piercing shade of gold.
And as he watched the gold bled into black and then back again. Something dark—something dangerous even—skirted the edges of her pupils.
But he was too far gone to care. He lowered his head until he could feel the warmth of her breath and whispered. “Is this what you want?”
He reached for her chest with his left hand and closed around her small breast. She jerked and then stilled. She was a mouse, a timid little mouse and he was the big, bad wolf.
“You wanted this remember?”
Her nipple hardened under his palm, and Goddess if he didn’t feel the draw of her power. He stole her breath. He stole her body and lowered his lips to hers.
The kiss was brutal and unforgiving. He speared his tongue inside her mouth and felt her yield to him.
She opened her mouth wide, and arched her spine. Still he wanted more.
More pain. More pleasure.
And more Fae.
8
Ondine
He broke the kiss and pulled away. Her breast ached. Her nipple throbbed. His cruel fingers had pinched and squeezed…and still she’d never felt so alive.
She licked the burning corners of her mouth and felt the sting of his teeth.
“This is what you wanted isn’t it?” Danger lingered in his guttural snarl.
And yet as she sucked in the icy night air she felt strangely calm. He took what he wanted. There was no pretense with him. He was a wolf, a hunter. He didn’t care for bloodlines, or anything else but survival.
He was just like her.
The back of her neck pounded with corded muscles. She forced her head to move, catching the swing of the open door in the dark. Rusted hinges creaked, blending with the howl of the wind.
“Get out.”
She flinched at the low growl. He moved like a shadow, lingering at the edges, watching her. She couldn’t go, not until she knew who was behind the attack on their Creator.
“I said, get out. Run. Scream. Tell everyone I held you against your will. Tell everyone what a monster I am. Go on. Do it.”
She gave a small shake of her head, and straightened her spine. “No. Not until I know. Not until you tell me who’s behind this.”
His chuckle sent goosebumps across her skin.
The scrape of his boots sent a shudder through her chest. She scanned the shadows, catching movement in one corner, and then in the next.
Moonlight bounced off glass as a jar rolled, hitching the speed of her heart higher. The Blood Moon was coming, and she was helpless to save them.
“Run. Scream. Fight.” His bitter words lashed the air like a whip.
Movement came from the shadows.
He was playing with her…toying with her—just as a predator toyed with its prey.
“Run little Fae. That's what you want to do, right? You want to run. You want to scream.”
Footsteps came closer. Ondine stared into the darkness until her eyes watered and her vision blurred.
Her words were barely more than a whisper. “If you think you’re scaring me you’re wrong. I…I’m not going to scream and I’m not going to run. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you’re planning.”
“I’m planning on grabbing your hands. I’m planning on peeling that dress from your body…I’m planning a lot of things, want me to go on?”
Her nipples hardened. She curled her shoulders, drawing tighter against the brittle walls. Threads of her shift caught on a splinter and the sharp sound of tearing fabric followed.
“Well little Fae? You want me to go on?”
She flinched at his words and held her breath. The towering darkness moved in front of her. She stepped backwards and her head smacked against the wall.
The dark blur moved, pouncing faster than she could move. Rough hands grabbed hers and jerked her arms over her head. She cried out with shock. Her sides strained, muscles pulled taut.
Icy air licked its way along her thighs. She had her panties…they were the only thing left as cloth rubbed against her skin. Panic injected fire through her veins. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, only shuddered with the cold wave of fear.
“Fight, little Fae. Fight. Scream.”
Numbness swept through her like an icy wave. His savage chuckle rendered her deaf, mute. His hands on her body brought that dark part of her nature to the surface and under his spiteful hold, the mark on her wrist pained.
Your choice might be harder than most.
Her shift brushed her shoulders. Her exposed nipples hardened.
“She likes to tie things up.”
The wolf murmured in her ear as he buckled one of her arms and slipped it through her dress. Pain lashed her wrists, driving along her forearms. Still she couldn’t feel a thing while his faraway voice hummed in her ear.
“She likes to tie you up. She likes to hurt. Did you know that? She likes the pain…she says it’s the only way she can get there. Is it the only way for you little Fae?”
Ondine inhaled the choking dust from the cabin as the cloth of her dress brushed her face. For a second she caught the crisp, floral scent of the Seelie world. She drew deep, taking the last of her world inside her as her dress skimmed her head, her arms, and then was gone.
“My God you’re beautiful,” the wolf murmured against her ear.
His hot breath trailed along her neck, turning icy in his wake. The Unseelie smiled inside her mind.
You like this. Like the pain, like the danger.
You’re one of us…
You’ll always be one of us.
Come home, Ondine…
Your real home this time.
And bring the wolf with you.
Ondine closed her eyes as his lips brushed her breast. Heat rushed from her center, where Seelie and Unseelie fought for space. Power spread out like taloned nails, ripping and shredding, taking one more ounce of her from the other side of her kin.
She opened her eyes to the soft silver glow of her skin. Black markings rippled under the surface across her arms…Unseelie raged, trembling like an avalanche inside her. She pushed against the power, using the only thing she could…
The wolf.
His mind was fragile. Gaping, ugly holes stretched across his psyche. She touched the outer edges and the edges stuck to her mind like tar. The sour tang of pain welled like an overflowing sink to spill over her. But there was something much darker lurking underneath…something she couldn’t quite sense.
Shadows moved as he lowered his head. The warmth of his body seeped through his clothes to melt into her breasts. His kiss was light, taking the corner of her mouth, and his tongue followed.
If she said no would he stop?
The essence of the man rippled, but underneath there was nothing but darkness. She pushed her mind further, taking a taste and felt the frigid water rise up.
Hard lips pressed against hers. His hand was searching, seeking, calloused fingers ran the length of her stretched muscles as he pulled her arms taut.
An eerie creak and pop of ice echoed through her mind. He was a man in the middle of a frozen lake…a lake that was melting all around him—leaving him nowhere to run.
He wants you.
And you want him.
She flinched with the thought.
“Did I hurt you?” he whispered.
The pressure on her arms eased. His heavy hand skimmed her arms, and then her back. His hard grip turned soft as he massaged the muscles along her back all the way to her shoulders.
Would he hurt her? No, she didn’t think he would.
But he needed her…needed her like a babe needs his mother. She raised her head and met his gaze. Desperation echoed within. Pain was pleasure…it wasn’t just the Mistress who needed to hurt to get there.
Her voice trembled. “H…hurt me.”
The sudden draw of breath was a razor along her nerves. Her body throbbed with each pulse, filling her ears with the deafening sound. She blinked through the faint red glow of the moon and searched the shadows.
Until his husky voice consumed her. “You…you want that?”
Heat bloomed from her core with a charge of excitement. “If I said no, would you let me go?”
“Is that what you want?” His words had a hard edge, sharpened like a stone. One small slip would do more than nick. “Say it. Say the words. I’m no rapist little Fae. But remember you're the one who followed me. You're the one who saved me in that alley.”
Her breath caught in her chest. Her hair lashed her cheek with the tiny shake.
“No?” He moved in closer. Stubble scraped along her cheek. “You going to tell me it wasn’t you? I knew your voice as soon as you fired your little demands outside this wall. I knew it was you.”
“I…I…”
Her cheek burned from the scrape of his jaw. One finger under her chin and he lengthened her neck.
“I…I…” He mimicked, toying with her.
“I want to be with you.”
He jerked his head up. The whites of his eyes were so clear in the dark. Something shone—hard points of canines as his lips peeled back. “You don’t know what you're saying. You don’t want to be with me. No one wants to be with me. You’re nobody to me. You mean nothing.”
The lash of his word were cruel. But she’d heard worse. She’d suffered more.
“And yet here you are, holding on to me.”
He released her arms and stepped away. “I told you before to leave. So, go. Get out.”
The drop was sudden. Her hands fell, weighted like stones, not as heavy as her heart. She grasped her wrist and trailed her fingers across the marks. The sting shot through her veins like lightning, scorching all the way into her chest.
She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to be alone.
She wanted him.
Ondine dragged her hand through the air. He was here somewhere, hiding in the shadows.
“I don’t want to go.” Her words fell flat. The burn across her wrist whispered things she wasn’t ready to hear.
Yet, somehow deep down in the recesses of her mind the thought already took hold. She exhaled slow and hard. “I want you. I want you to touch me, to kiss me. I want to feel your body.”
His hand clamped on the back of her neck, another grabbe
d her hips. “You think this is going to mean anything to me?”
She shook her head. Her hair pulled taut, fire lashed her scalp, making her eyes water. He released her hair, still his arms never moved from her neck or her hips. “Feel like slumming it, little Fae, is that it? Have an itch your Seelie men can’t scratch?”
Still the tears rolled down her cheeks. All the ridicule, all the hate. She was not Seelie. She did not belong.
“That’s it, right? You want to sleep in the muck with the rest of us animals.”
He released her hips only to grab her aching breast. Pain shot through her nipple as he rolled it between his fingers. Her cry echoed though the cabin. Birds took flight through the trees.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted pain right? Is this a little too real, little Fae?”
“Ondine.” The word was little more than a hiss.
The pain on her nipple eased, still her flesh twitched with the brutality.
“What? What did you say?”
She clenched her jaw, forcing the word as though her life depended on it. “I said my name is Ondine.”
“Ondine, huh? A pretty name, for a pretty Fae.”
He pushed her head down until she doubled over. She stumbled and reached out, grasping hold of the internal timber beam that ran up the wall. Splinters peeled away under her grip.
“To fast for you little Fae? Want me to slow it down, take my time? Get to know you a little better first?”
She shook her head under his vicelike grip. Goddess help her it wasn’t too fast. It wasn’t too brutal.
His nails scraped her stomach as he headed for her panties. Panic mingled with desire. She was a flammable cocktail and he was just the match she needed.
His fingers burrowed under the elastic, finding their way to the most sensitive of places. Her thighs were too hard together. He couldn’t get to where he wanted.
A deep snarl of frustration ripped through the air. He pulled his hand free and grasped the panties at her hip. He yanked them down one thigh and then reached across to her other, working the panties all the way down to her ankles.
His hands were rough, shoving her thighs apart at her knees. She stumbled, trying to hold on and keep her balance. Her underwear slipped from one foot as he shoved her legs wider. She trod on the cotton, grinding it into the filth and the dirt as his fingers slipped along her crease.