Luke ran big, rough hands over her body without pause, unapologetic as he fondled her thighs, squeezed her hips, stroked the curve of her belly, cupped the weight of her breasts. She could feel what she did to him: the way his cock twitched against the small of her back when she moaned; the way his breath stuttered when she said his name.
Then he reached down to cup her mound, his middle finger easing through her slippery folds, and her mind melted completely. All she could focus on now was her desperate, swollen clit, and the way her pussy ached for him, and the memory of that thick cock opening her up.
“Just fuck me,” she demanded, reaching back to fist his shaft. When her fingers closed around him, tightened on that satin steel, he choked out her name and grabbed her wrist.
“Human women,” he growled, “require foreplay.”
“Human women,” she said, “require you to do whatever the fuck they ask.” Then, after a moment’s thought: “Have you never slept with a human before?”
“I’ve never slept with anyone before,” he said, as if that was a completely unremarkable statement. Then he pushed her forward onto the bed and covered her body with his own, one heavy forearm sliding under her cheek like a pillow. With his free hand, he grabbed her arse cheek and squeezed, spreading her open. She whimpered helplessly at the feel of him above her, at his rigid cock nudging her entrance, at the way her folds parted as he kneaded flesh and muscle greedily.
Then, through it all, she managed to say, “You’re a virgin?!”
“Nope. Fucked you yesterday.”
She laughed, but it was high and breathy and clearly the laugh of a woman about to be impaled on an enormous virgin Werewolf cock. In her opinion, anyway. “That barely counted.”
“I disagree, but if that’s how you feel, we’d better make it count now.” He kissed her cheek, then her neck, then her ear. And then he whispered, “Say you want me, Chas.”
She remembered the last time he’d asked for that, and how she’d been too confused to give it to him. She wasn’t confused anymore. Turning her head to meet his gaze, she said, “I want you.”
He kissed her, slow and hot and heavy. As his tongue invaded her mouth, his cock thrust deep inside her, and she saw stars.
“You,” Luke choked out helplessly, “are heaven.”
Chastity laughed, even as she arched beneath him. He hadn’t been joking. She was heaven: strong, soft, sweet, and his. He pumped into her gorgeous, gritting his teeth against the dizzying pleasure, recalling everything he’d ever learned about pleasing his mate—both through research and their recent, practical application. He released her arse to slide a hand beneath her body, his fingers searching out the swollen nub of her clit. When he rubbed gently as he rocked into her, she moaned, her cunt tightening around him.
Well, fuck. That was the last thing he needed. He was on the edge already, the base of his spine tingling and his balls aching and his heart pounding desperately against his ribs. He was determined to cling to this impossible pleasure, at least long enough to make Chas scream. But God, she felt good. Every time he retreated, her cunt drew him back, her slick heat setting his every nerve ending alight. When he thrust deep and felt her open for him, all soft and wet, it stole his breath.
He buried his face against her throat as he fucked her, something primal inside him rising to the fore, something even more raw and animalistic than the beast she’d teased last night. He thrust faster, deeper, branding her the way she did him, his need for her a frenzy that heated his blood.
The harder he rutted against her, the more she moaned, until finally she gasped out, “Luke!” in a way that spoke to his soul. Then he felt the walls of her pussy fluttering around him, massaging his cock so beautifully, he almost came on the spot.
And then she bit him, and he did come.
Her teeth sank into his forearm in a way that should’ve been impossible, or would’ve been, if it weren’t for the intent behind the action. The sensation, combined with the feel of her beneath him, tore away his control, tore away everything.
He came with a roar, releasing deep inside his mate, the pleasure overwhelming. But not so overwhelming that he could resist the compulsion to mark her in turn, to sink his teeth into the smooth curve of her shoulder and lap up the crimson rivulets that spilled out from the punctures he’d made. She shuddered beneath the bite, heat no doubt zipping through her as it had him.
And then it was over, and had just begun.
After what could’ve been a moment or a sizeable slice of forever, Luke dragged open his heavy lids and looked down at his mate. His mate. His overworked heart broke into a song and dance routine. A grin spread over his face, echoed by the tiny, satisfied smile on hers.
He liked that smile.
Luke shifted a little, so his weight wasn’t crushing her, but he gave up barely an inch of skin-to-skin contact. He couldn’t. He needed it. He needed Chas.
Nuzzling her cheek gently, breathing in her addictive scent, he closed his eyes and sank into sleep. But, just before peace swallowed him whole, he heard her murmur.
“I can’t hunt because a witch attended my birth and predicted that my first kill would rip out my heart.”
That shocked his eyes open for a moment, despite the post-mating exhaustion dragging him into unconsciousness. He studied her face, which was impossibly peaceful—except for the smear of his blood on her lower lip.
Suited his bloodthirsty sweetheart. Still, he licked it softly away.
“Everyone thought she meant that literally,” Chas went on, her eyes still closed, every part of her practically glowing with contentment. Which was exactly how he intended to keep her, always. “But I’m starting to suspect that she was being all romantic and metaphorical and shit. Because if I were like my sisters, I’d have been there last month. And—”
“And if I’d come face to face with my mate in that situation,” he said slowly, “I’d have been shocked. Might’ve tipped the balance. You might’ve killed me.”
“And you are my heart, so I would’ve harmed myself too.”
Luke smiled, his beast painfully smug In all fairness, the man was smug too. “See. Mates are fated. And… I’m your heart, huh?”
“Surprise,” she whispered.
He nipped playfully at her ear, his finger tracing the mark his teeth had left in her shoulder. It had already stopped bleeding, as it should, but he felt the crescent-shape of tiny wounds and looked forward to seeing them every day of his life.
“Here’s another surprise,” he whispered back. “I love you.”
She snorted softly, clearly trying to hide a smile. “That’s not surprising at all. You’re a Were and I’m your mate.”
“It’s not just that.” He snuggled closer, nuzzling her throat, his beast melting before her in a puddle of adoration that he’d find pathetic if he didn’t feel exactly the same way. “You’re not only my mate. You’re my huntress. And you caught me, body and soul.”
She blinked up at him, her gaze suspiciously bright. Then, a smile on her face and a tremor in her voice, she whispered, “Want to know my deepest, darkest secret?”
Hope bloomed in his chest. “Of course.”
“I love you, too.”
THE END
Thank you for reading Mating the Huntress. It would mean the world to me if you could share your thoughts about it by leaving a review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend.
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Talia x
Author’s Note
I wrote a Christmas novella in 2017 and it was so much fun. It gave my mind the refresh it needed and brightened up the gloomy English winter. So this year, when I found myself particularly excited for Halloween, I thought—why not recreate that magic? Why not try another holiday novella, this time for s
pooky season? And here is the result.
This is my first published PNR, and it was so ridiculously fun. Yet again, it reset my authorial brain just when I was at the edge of burnout. As someone who grew up obsessed with Buffy and Xena, I’m slightly obsessed with righteously violent women. And who doesn’t love a sexy monster? (Lots of people, I’m sure, but lets gloss over that.)
Mating the Huntress will always have a special place in my weird little heart. I truly hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my boyfriend, who, instead of confiscating my laptop when I broke my own rules to write this book, said, “Sounds pretty cool, actually,” and proceeded to mind his own business.
Thank you to Em Ali and Zahra Butt for editing my thinly-veiled Buffy fanfic (JK, pls don’t sue me) into something useful.
Thank you to Ellen Baier, Adina Taylor, Rosa Giles and Jhenelle Jacas for supporting a messy little musher of words like me.
Thank you.
Also by Talia Hibbert
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About the Author
Talia Hibbert is a Black British author who lives in a bedroom full of books. Supposedly, there is a world beyond that room—but she has yet to drum up enough interest to investigate.
She writes steamy, diverse romance because she believes that people of marginalised identities need honest and positive representation. Her interests include makeup, junk food, and unnecessary sarcasm.
And, as Talia would say... that's all, folks. Love and biscuits!
https://www.taliahibbert.com
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