Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3

by Danes, Willow

  Her own heart was hammering in her chest as his fingers lightly brushed her forehead, tracing the curve of her cheek to run down the tender skin of her throat.

  “When you emerged from the forest I thought the Goddess had sent you to me.” He swallowed and his words suddenly came out in a rush. “It sounds foolish, I know. And I know too you do not feel the same for me but if someday you thought perhaps you could . . .”

  Shyly, he leaned closer, his breath mingling with hers, to brush his nose up one side of hers, and down the other—a g’hir’s kiss.

  “My sweet one . . .” His breath mingled with hers, his voice lowered, a soft mating purr rising in his chest to vibrate through her, right to her clit. “My Summer . . .”

  “Ke’lar—” Her head was spinning from the heat he sent rushing through her; that rumble-purr of his had made her breasts heavy, her center so tight she was clenching her hand, the nails biting into her palm, to keep from reaching for him. “Oh, goddamn it . . .”

  A look of embarrassment, of shame, crossed his face.

  “Forgive me,” he mumbled. “I forgot for a moment how the g’hir have wronged you, of what you think of my kind.” His expression was wretched, his mating purr fading. “You have asked my protection, nothing more. I should have never spoken of my feelings for you. I vow I will not again . . .”

  He began to draw away but with a low moan Summer brought her mouth to his, her arms winding around his neck to pull him close.

  He froze, uncertain, because he would never have kissed like this. G’hir didn’t touch mouths like humans did.

  But he let her kiss him now, his full mouth softening against hers. He caught his breath when she sought to part his lips, yielding easily as she deepened the kiss, and she shuddered with wanting to feel the sharpness of his fangs against her tongue.

  He sighed, accepting all that she offered. His touch on her was gentle but he was rock hard against her thigh. His mouth had the sweetest spicy taste to it and he pressed closer, eager for more. His fingers threaded through her hair as he experimented in the ways of a human kiss, lightly flicking his tongue to the corner of her mouth then running along the inside of her upper lip.

  He brushed his nose to hers and his lips traced her cheek and throat as he fit his body to hers, his skin warm and smooth, the broad muscles of his back under her fingers. Ke’lar pressed his face to the spot where her neck and shoulder met, pausing there to breathe in her scent, and the rumble deepened in his chest, thrumming through her, rising to tighten her nipples.

  She wore nothing but the nightgown and Summer slid her leg over him, wrapping around his hip to press his hard cock, already lubricating in readiness, to her entrance.

  A fine tremble ran along his body and suddenly he was no longer docile, yielding to her, but the hunter he was bred to be. His hands moved with a g’hir’s speed to free her of her nightdress and in a heartbeat she lay bare beneath him. His eyes were blue fire as he drank in the sight of her, open and ready for him.

  His fangs flashed and his touch turned slow, deliberate, possessive. His knuckles traced from the hollow of her throat to her breastbone. Then lightly, with just the pad of his finger, he brushed against her nipple and she gasped as shocks exploded along every nerve of her body.

  “You cannot know how many times I have stopped myself from touching you,” he rumbled hoarsely, cupping her breast, his thumb tracing the peak.

  “God!” she got out.

  His fingers ran the length of her body, over her ribs and belly to rest against the lips of her pussy.

  “How I have ached for you . . .”

  His rumble-purr sent tingles of pleasure racing between her thighs to vibrate her clit. Her mouth parted as he found her sensitive nub but he simply held it captive between his warm fingers, his gaze burning into hers, watching her reaction.

  He bent closer, his breath hot on her throat. “How I longed to have you ache for me . . .”

  His fangs nipped her then, lightly, just at the base of her neck, and simultaneously, with a single flick of his thumb against her clit, he had her coming so hard she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders.

  He slid two fingers inside her and her pussy pulsed around them with her climax. Rumbling, he withdrew his fingers to take position over her, the tip of his cock gleaming with moisture.

  His purr had her arousal soaring again instantly and having him there, hot against her opening, was driving her wild. She arched against him, desperate to have him inside her.

  He made a sound then, a strangled gasp at the sensation as the very tip of his cock dipped between her lips.

  “I have not—” he gasped. “I have never—”

  “I know.” Summer shifted beneath him, her hands going to his hips to press him forward, lifting her body so the head of his cock slipped inside. “It’s all right.”

  “Summer . . .” His whole body was taut, trembling with the effort to hold still. “You must be sure—”

  “Please,” she begged.

  She pressed harder, urging him on, mad with it. He was big but she was slippery from her climax and he surrendered, groaning with pleasure as he slid into her, in a heartbeat fully sheathed inside.

  He resisted for just an instant as Summer urged him to pull back then into her again and his eyes widened as he caught the rhythm. It was glorious to watch him as he moved inside her, abandoning himself to it.

  He balanced effortlessly on one arm, cupping her buttock to hold her still for him, every thrust and withdraw of his cock brushing her clit.

  “Say—” he rumbled hoarsely, his voice deep and hungry, the combination of his strokes and rumbling-purr soaking her pussy, bringing her to the brink again. “Say you are mine.”

  “I’m . . .”

  His glowing gaze held hers, his cock hot and slick as he rocked inside her. “You are mine.”

  “—yours! God, please . . .!”

  His fangs bared, his rumble-purr tightening her center to aching as he thrust deep and hard and then she was coming again.

  Her pleasure took the last of Ke’lar control. His growl rose to a roar and then his rhythm broke and he shuddered, pulsing hot inside her as he came.

  He was shaking, his head hanging, their bodies slick against each other. He shifted then, still filling her, his cock still rock hard as he caged her face with his arms.

  “And I am yours . . . “ He brushed his nose to hers. “My beloved. My Summer . . . ”

  Her eyes stung at the sincerity, the reverence, in his eyes. Only one other in her life had ever looked at her as if she were the whole world—

  But Ke’lar was g’hir, not human, and once was not nearly enough to sate him. He was still hard inside her. His rumbling purr rose to hum through her and then nothing in the universe existed but them. Summer curled against him, gasping in renewed pleasure as his strokes started again.

  Eleven

  Ke’lar was aware of her before he was fully awake, as he would be aware of her, seeking her presence, every moment till the end of his existence.

  The scent of her sex filled the shelter, inviting forth his mating purr, stirring him again to full arousal, his penis already lubricating for more coupling. Her rounded buttocks were pressed to his hips, his body curled around the softness of her.

  His fingers brushed the tips of her breasts, the sweetness of her taut pink nipples. She was already responding, pressing back against him in irresistible invitation.

  Ke’lar’s hand rested on her hip for a moment to hold her steady, feeling the bone beneath her skin, the warm, slight roundness of her belly as he placed his penis between the lips of her opening. Sure now that his purr had readied her, he slid into her taut slick center.

  He held there, inside her, and moved his hand lower, from her belly to the soft, golden hair of her mound. His fingers came to rest at the apex of her opening, her lips held open by his sheathed cock.

  His thumb pressed there, to that sensitive spot of human female anatomy. In
the night of coupling he had learned how to heighten and extend her arousal by softening or deepening his purr, just how hard to bite so that he deepened her pleasure without causing pain, how the lightest touch just here—

  Summer moaned, the walls of her sex contracting around his penis as she came. Her back arched to press herself closer as he started to thrust. He kept his fingers between her lips, at that sweet, tiny nub as he rocked inside her, his eyes closing at the pleasure of it.

  She was gasping, her head flung back, the strands of her bright silky hair brushing his skin, the scent of her spiraling arousal urging him on to plunge faster. She was nearing another climax and he lowered the vibration of his purr to keep her just at the peak for a moment more . . .

  Then she was contracting around him hard, her release demanding his own, and he bared his fangs as he pulsed inside her.

  He collapsed beside her, his breath still quick as he withdrew, laughing softly at the sheer delight of loving her.

  My Summer . . .

  She rolled toward him, her eyes opened, and she gave him a joyous, sleepy smile.

  My mate . . .

  Nice way to wake up . . .

  Ke’lar’s glowing eyes were soft, his back hair curtaining his face as he smiled down at her.

  “What time is it?” she asked. They were still naked, that was for sure. His body was warm against hers, curled around her.

  He traced the skin of her cheek. “I do not know.” He gave a quiet, huffing chuckle. “We did not sleep until very late.”

  “I could sleep more,” she mumbled, her eyes already falling shut again.

  “Then sleep, little one.” He drew her closer into his embrace as he settled against her. “Sleep as long as you wish.”

  His head was cradled against her neck, his mouth warm and moist against her throat, the silkiness of his hair spread over her arm and shoulder. There was nothing but the sound of their breathing, the sweet feel of Ke’lar against her.

  “We should get up,” she murmured, but made no move to do so. She had never been so comfortable, so content in her life.

  “No, let us stay here,” he rumbled, his breath hot on her skin.

  “You mean just live in this cave—like ancient humans and g’hir?”

  She felt him smile against her neck.

  “We will be far more comfortable than they ever were. We have our shelter and a heater and our bed. We will delight in each other.” He snuggled closer. “I will hunt for you, and we will make our home here until the snow brings the next gathering . . .”

  An image of shops bright with holiday lights, of snow blanketing Brittle Bridge’s Main Street, flashed through her mind, jolting her awake.

  Through the shelter’s opening, through the cave entrance, the sky was as vibrant blue as Ke’lar’s eyes.

  “The rain,” she whispered. “It’s stopped. When did it stop?”

  “Hmm,” he rumbled, moving closer. “Hours ago.”

  Oh God, what did I do?

  This—she and Ke’lar—wasn’t supposed to happen, this was never supposed to happen. What about home, what about—

  So I just . . . what? Forgot?

  Guilt slashed her heart and Summer disengaged from Ke’lar’s embrace, and sat up, clutching the fur covers to her chest.

  Sunshine filled the cave entrance, birdsong drifted in on the sweet air . . .

  What the fuck time is it anyway?

  “We should go.”

  “What is the matter?” He propped himself up, his rippled brow creased. “Your heart is racing.”

  She avoided his gaze and ran her hand through her hair. “How long before we can get packed up and out of here?”

  He pushed himself up to kneeling, as comfortable with being bare as ever, his black silky hair in disarray from their lovemaking, his beautiful cock resting on his muscular thighs.

  “Little one? What is it?” He searched her face. “You are greatly distressed.”

  “I’m fine,” she mumbled, already reaching for her clothes. “How quick can we get going?”

  His brow furrowed as she climbed over him to yank her trousers on, her fingers flying to fasten the shirt. Thankfully her new boots had finally dried and she pulled them on, quickly tying them closed.

  “Come on,” she urged, her throat tight. “We need to go.”

  He blinked up at her but took his own clothes in one broad hand and stood to dress.

  “How long?” she asked as soon as he’d finished fastening his boots. “It must be near midday.”

  “We should eat—”

  “Can’t we eat on the way?” she interrupted.

  His brow furrowed but he jerked his chin in a g’hir nod. “I must break camp and saddle Beya. It is best I carry the supplies down to her than bring her here.”

  “Can I help?”

  “If you wish to leave swiftly, it is quicker if I do this alone.”

  “Okay,” she said, heading out of the shelter and into the chill of the cave.

  Waiting while he disassembled and packed everything had her practically dancing back and forth between the sunny, rocky path outside and the chill of the cave. It wasn’t as if he were taking a long time—he was a model of warrior efficiency—but it left her with nothing to do and no way to speed things up.

  “Wait here,” he said, hefting their supplies. “When I have saddled her I will return for you.”

  “That’ll just waste time,” she said impatiently. “This is your clan’s territory, there’s not going to be some Zerar horde hiding behind a bush waiting to attack us. I’m going with you.”

  Clearly this was the perfect way not to motivate an alien warrior because Ke’lar’s jaw hardened and he stopped dead, instantly transforming into an unmovable wall of muscle and male stubbornness.

  “You are my responsibility,” he growled. “I could not call myself a warrior if I neglected your safety so.”

  Summer had to force herself to slow even breaths.

  Eyes on the prize here. The point is to get to the clanhall as fast as possible, not to debate g’hir cultural ideals.

  “Fine,” she bit out, folding her arms. “Go. I’ll wait here.”

  His gaze narrowed a bit as if judging the sincerity of her word.

  “Seriously. Go.” She sat down on the rock she’d perched on while waiting for him only last night. “I’ll be right here.”

  After a moment he inclined his head. “I will return as quickly as I am able.”

  Summer chewed her lip as he started on the path down to where he’d housed Beya.

  It was Wednesday, at least back in Brittle Bridge. She only had until Sunday afternoon to get home . . .

  It was another two days to the clanhall. That left her a little over a day to convince the clanfather of the Erah to disregard g’hir cultural traditions, to incur the greater enmity of a rival clan

  Dammit, where is he already?

  She was on her feet, about to go after him, but, as if he somehow sensed she was on the verge of breaking her word, he chose that moment to return. She was past him in an instant, heading down the rocky path toward where Beya waited patiently, already saddled and loaded down with their supplies.

  Before she could get to the beast’s side to mount up, he loosed the reins from the tree and began to lead Beya.

  “We’re walking?” Summer asked, frowning. “The path is wide enough to ride, isn’t it?”

  “We can eat as we travel,” he said. “But she must be fed and watered before she is ridden. There is a creek not far from here. She will drink and I will fill our water pouches.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to object. Then her gaze met Beya’s and she read patience, deep loyalty, and weariness in that animal’s glowing gaze.

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “Okay.”

  Summer took the opportunity—since they were stuck waiting on the multari anyway—to eat some of the jerky-stuff Ke’lar offered her and splash some water on her face. Beya dipped her heavy head and drank de
eply when they reached the creek but wasn’t nearly as interested in her feed.

  “Which way is the clanhall from here?”

  He pointed. That way the valley curved to the left, and the river far below led in that direction.

  “So which way is faster?” she asked, as Ke’lar stroked Beya’s nose, coaxing her to eat. “The mountains or doubling back to go through the valley?”

  “The valley is the shortest distance but we will continue on through the mountain pass.”

  “Why? You said yourself that if we do that it’ll add a whole other day.” She indicated the blue sky, the fluffy clouds. “I’m pretty sure it’s not going to rain today. It doesn’t even look flooded down here.”

  “Travel through the valley will be far worse than it seems from here.” He gave up trying to feed the multari and offered a g’hir’s nod toward the verdant land below. “The ground has absorbed some of the rain but not much yet. There will be places Beya may sink to her knees in the mud.”

  The sweet spring air lifted her hair as Summer turned her face toward where the river curved at the base of the snow-capped mountain. “On Earth, settlements—especially old ones—were always built near a river or sea. The Betari clanhall was built near water. Yours was too, right?

  He shot her a puzzled look. “It was.”

  “Well, let’s use the river then,” she said briskly. “That would be the fastest. We could sail there, couldn’t we?”

  “We could,” he agreed, stowing the animal’s feed. “If we had a boat, which we do not.”

  “Well, there must be one on the river,” she pointed out. “We’ll hitch a ride. You’re the clanfather’s son and this is urgent, that would put any boat at your disposal.”

  “Do you see one?” he demanded with a wave toward the river.

  “No,” she admitted grudgingly. There wasn’t a boat in sight. “But there are fishermen that use the river all the time, aren’t there?”

  “Yes, and who would have sought a safe place to moor during the storm. The river will still have the runoff of the storm and they too are wisely waiting till the river is less treacherous.” He stopped walking, Beya shifting beside him. “But perhaps you would prefer that we camp at the river’s edge and wait there until a boat appears to carry us to the clanhall instead.”