by Mel Teshco
Yeah, he should know, what with being a nightmix and all. But somehow she couldn’t find the strength to hate him right then. Even with the intensity of her emotions, an unladylike snort found its way past her tight throat. “Then perhaps you should have warned me before I went off hunting you on my own?”
A wry smile curled his lips. “You were never in any danger. Not from me.”
He was wrong on so many levels, if only he knew. Even before she’d questioned herself that maybe he wasn’t a killer, her hatred had been turned on its head.
Imagine if I’d killed him before ever having gotten to know him.
She cleared her throat, thinking back to when she’d been so close to doing just that. “Yesterday when I…I hunted you. I released a second arrow before I blacked out…?”
He arched a dark brow. “Yes. Fortunately for me the arrow fell just shy of my feet.”
“Oh.”
His shoulders tensed. “Is it too much for me to hope that you’re glad I wasn’t hurt?”
She dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “That’s just it. I am glad.”
His breath rushed out, his eyes gleaming. “Really.”
It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. “Yes. Really.”
When he leaned forward, his mouth brushing over hers and his stubble rasping her soft skin, she didn’t object. Goddess, she was certain that she wanted this as much, more even, than he did. Being with him, joined to him, seemed like the one sure way to forget all the bad stuff in her past.
Her arms twined around his neck and their kiss deepened, became intense all too quickly. She fumbled to take off his clothes. He moaned, then helped strip off, the urgency between them becoming even more powerful, their kiss harder and more demanding.
Even so, Reuben pulled back suddenly and muttered, “I washed blood from between your thighs a short time ago. You’re probably not yet ready—”
She drew him back to her, covering his mouth with her own. She didn’t have time to debate the merits of her torn hymen. Or the fact that he’d washed her and she hadn’t even been awake to appreciate the fact. His attention and care only made her want him all the more.
When he next pulled back, she splayed her legs wide and watched him with a half-shuttered stare. She was more than aware his passion was barely held in check at her wanton display and he moved over her, his body so big and powerful over hers and causing her heart to flutter in anticipation.
Yes he was large in every way, but when they became as one they were a perfect fit.
She clasped his big, hard cock to guide him to her pussy. Damn she was already wet, her cunt putting out the welcoming juices even before he pushed into her all the way to his balls.
Breath shuddered from her lungs.
So. Damn. Good.
She lifted her hips to meet his rocking tempo in perfect harmony, their sweat mingling and their moans filling the air.
Everything inside her compressed, tightening in readiness for the ecstasy that was just seconds away…
He abruptly pulled out. Her gasp turned into a startled, undignified squawk when he clasped her hips and rolled her onto her belly.
Oh…yes!
Her womb clenched hard.
Though a virgin not even twenty-four hours ago, she was no stranger to the sexual act. She’d seen her father’s stallion with his herd of mares. She’d been both frightened and intrigued by the impressive length and girth of the stallion’s penis.
“On your hands and knees,” Reuben demanded thickly.
She obeyed, mewling softly when he inserted first one finger, then another inside her before sliding them in and out repeatedly. Her eyes squeezed shut as pleasure escalated at his every push. The moist squelch of her inner flesh seemed to satisfy him that she was ready. He removed his fingers and pressed into place the head of his cock, before thrusting in deep.
The connection was tight but slick.
Her breaths came out sharp, frantic, as he pushed in and out faster and harder. Her breasts bounced and swayed. Her throat tightened as rapture swelled.
Goddess, she couldn’t take much more. Was it possible to die of pleasure?
She slammed backward against his every penetration, doubling the ecstasy. Until her toes abruptly curled and her pussy contracted around his shaft, and she was crying out her wonder and joy.
Gripping her hips, he pulled her tight against him, locking her in place while his seed flooded into her, his appreciative groan long and loud.
Then his hands gentled and he lowered her onto the floor. He followed right after, sprawling over her as she lay panting on her belly, his weight centered on his arms either side of her, his cock lodged inside her.
A part of her.
She put her head to one side, absently aware the rain outside had disappeared and the sky was now a crisp, glorious strip of azure. “Mmm. I like that position,” she murmured drowsily.
His chuckle sounded like thick, dark honey over his vocal cords. Sexy and arousing. “Just one of many positions I’ll show you before—”
She stiffened at the words he’d left unfinished. She was wide awake now. “Before what?”
A long, drawn-out silence put distance between them even before he disengaged. She rolled onto her back and faced him. His eyes fairly burned with possessiveness, though his words said otherwise. “Before I release you.”
Chapter Five
Her belly plummeted as a band of pain tightened across her chest. “I see.”
She should have been deliriously happy that he planned to let her go. Shouldn’t she? So what was with the sickening despair filling her from the inside out?
You haven’t made him fall in love with you at all. Idiot, you’ve fallen for him instead! And now he’s had his fun with you, he can’t get rid of you fast enough.
How had she ever brushed aside the fact that his kind murdered her brother? The same way she’d conveniently revolted against the idea that a nightmix just like Reuben had killed a young boy, who at eight years of age had no way to seriously defend himself.
A nightmix didn’t know how to love. They were far more prone to give in to their dark natures.
He moved off her and pushed to his feet. She sat, her forearms digging into her bent knees and breath barely making it into her constricted lungs. But she wouldn’t let him see her pain. Not. A. Chance. Not if it meant him using it against her.
She steeled her spine, needing to lash out, to hurt him even a little bit. She looked up. “If I’d known fucking you would have changed your mind, I would have given you my virginity sooner.”
He recoiled, eyebrows drawing together in a hard line. “Is that how you really feel?” he asked harshly.
She’d lost the last of her dignity, so why stop now? She lifted her chin, her answer carefully evasive and cold. “More than once I overhead whispered conversations about women who’ve slept with a nightmix. It’s quite the thrill, apparently.”
A blatant lie. Yes, she’d heard rumors of women who sought out the bed of the men others feared. But she never in a million years fantasized about sleeping with one herself. Hell, if she’d been told just yesterday she’d be lying with the beast she’d wanted to hunt into extinction, she would have laughed. Or thrown up. Or both.
That she actually craved their joining wholeheartedly was something she didn’t even want to examine too closely, at least not yet.
“So you decided your first time would be more titillating with someone of my ilk?” Reuben asked, much more softly this time.
Her senses prickled. She swallowed. There was very real danger in the air, magnified by his eyes that had begun to glow the red of his inner beast. She drew on what little courage she could find and said brazenly, “What if I did?”
He shook his head and in the process cleared any outward signs of his nightmix birthright. “Then I’d say you are a fool. And that I was totally wrong about you.”
He pulled on his clothes before striding into the kitchen to finis
h cutting and dicing the deer meat. No doubt the task was a welcome distraction from her. And all the while she watched him with burning shame and not a little resentment.
She pressed a hand to her brow, her head about to explode with conflicting emotions. She’d watched a nightmix murder her brother. She’d grown up with revenge and hatred seared into her brain. She’d talked strategies with her grieving father on how to eliminate the monsters before another could rip apart someone else’s family.
Now here was Reuben making her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Worse, she was saying things she’d never otherwise utter. Her mindset and all her beliefs were under attack, uncertainties challenging her from every direction.
She massaged her temple in an effort to ease the building tension. Being with a nightmix was treachery of the highest order. For all intents and purposes she’d chosen Reuben over her brother. Except her undying loyalty would always be with Benjamin.
Always.
Her hand dropped into her lap and squeezed into a fist. She’d never forget the terrible, soul-destroying memory of her dying, bloodied brother. And nor would her father. After she’d run from the terrifying scene in the library, she’d somehow made it to her father’s room to alert him.
The nightmix hadn’t stayed around. It hadn’t needed to. They’d heard soon after that the beast had already murdered three other hapless humans and eaten its fill of their flesh.
No, Benjamin had been a pleasure kill, left to bleed out in his father’s arms.
Her father had sated a little of his sorrow by becoming leader of the nightmix dissenters. But more often than not his bitter grief had been carefully hidden under the thinnest veneer of sanity.
So how had he possibly coped thinking his last and only child was dead now too?
Her belly rolled. He’d be stricken. Shattered. Destroyed.
A sob caught in the base of her throat. Reuben clearly didn’t care about her family or her past. And if that didn’t showcase his true colors right there, what did?
He was a monster and she wouldn’t be forgetting that again anytime soon. She squared her shoulders and pushed back anxiety and ill-will. Now was not the time to give away her true emotions. If she ever wanted to escape this place she needed to be furtive, secretive. And right now was the perfect opportunity to play on the shared intimacy with Reuben.
She stood, naked but gloriously unashamed. Revenge had been part of her life for so many years now, it came easy to her to act the part needed to gain his trust. Half-turning, she drew attention to her assets. Though she was fine-boned and small, her breasts were full for her size, her stomach flat and lightly muscled, her pussy plucked of all but the thinnest rectangle of blonde fuzz.
Add newfound sex to the list and, despite the knowledge he was letting her go—or perhaps because of it—she’d never felt more poised and self-aware.
His eyes lifted from his self-appointed task. The muscles in his shoulders bunched, his jaw locking and his too-sexy mouth dropping open.
She smiled, holding the pose for another couple of beats before swaying her way toward him. He didn’t say a word, just stayed silent and ever watchful. Then she was behind him, her arms slithering up to curl around his nape and her breasts mashing against his spine.
Damn he was big; power fairly exuded from him. She closed her eyes, drinking in his maleness. Even before the musky scent of their union drifted from between her thighs, her womb clenched with need.
Goddess help her, there was no need to act when she still wanted him bad!
He moaned, undoubtedly getting a whiff of the scent too, before he spun around to face her. Her arms dropped to her sides and she looked up at him from under her lashes.
“What are you doing?” he gritted.
“You mean you can’t tell?” she asked throatily. She glanced on the bench at the various cuts of meat, dismissing them before she looked up at him again. “I’m hungry for you. Not food.”
His cock that kicked thick and hard against her belly didn’t lie. Yet his expression was wary and reserved, his eyes glittering.
Did he guess her true intentions?
Her stare skittered away again, somehow latching on to the big meat knife that was just out of reach behind him. Her heart missed a beat and then went into overdrive. She resisted an urge to swipe suddenly clammy hands on her thighs.
His expression darkened. “Is it my cock you want or my heart skewered on a knife?” he growled.
Oh shit.
He half-turned from her, before reaching for the bloodied knife. Facing her again, he proffered her the weapon. “Is this what you want?” he asked hoarsely. His eyes gleamed dangerously. “Because if it is, do us both a favor and use it on me now.”
Her hands clenched. Her heart galloped. She had difficulty focusing; breathing. “That’s not fair.”
“You said it yourself. Life is cruel. Some people die young. And some people choose to take innocent lives.” He shook his head. “Then again, most people live long and happy lives. Most people don’t kill other people.”
And you’re nothing like most other people!
“Which category do you fall into?” she whispered.
His face tightened. One corner of his lip curled. “If you really need to ask.” He thrust the knife closer. “Then here. Have it. Do what you need to do.”
She knew on some level he wanted her to face the enemy and confront her inner demons head on. Deal with it rather than carrying the heavy weight of bitter despair and fury on her shoulders for the next millennium. Instead, Benjamin’s ashen face, his body bathed in his own blood, filled her head until she saw nothing else.
Her pulse thudded. Her hands clenched. How could she have forgotten how much she despised these monsters? She hated nightmixes with a passion and yet somehow this dangerous beast made her imagine she had feelings for him and left her questioning all her beliefs.
He’d brainwashed her, used intimacy to weaken her resolve!
With an enraged shriek, she grabbed the knife and raised it high. Reuben’s eyes widened and flashed disbelief before dulling with quiet acceptance.
Jerky, desperate thoughts crowded in her head.
Don’t look at him. Don’t for a second believe he’s different.
Her grip tightened.
So why didn’t his nightmix beast come out to protect him? Was it a trick to make her believe he wasn’t anything like the monster that killed her brother?
Her hand shook as all the empty years she’d grown up without her brother, years where sorrow and anger were the mainstay of her life without the nurturing love of her mother, slammed her right between the eyes.
The knife arced through the air. Reuben didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch until the blade pushed into his chest and slid deep.
She froze. Her stare locked with his. Bile rose past the lump in her throat.
What have I done?
His eyes glazed. Shock then disbelief. Bright crimson immediately stained the front of his shirt. But it was only when the unmistakable red of his inner beast shone through his stare that her inner self-protective switch flicked on. A scream pushing from her throat, she spun on her heel and ran for the unlocked door.
There was no time to think things through. No time for anything but flight. Fear had her in its grip, ruled her. Fear that she’d killed him. Fear that she’d forever broken his trust. Fear that if he did somehow survive, his nightmix self would hunt her down and tear her apart, limb from limb.
In the forest she sprinted without direction, her feet kicking up mud and leaves until her lungs were bursting and her legs were quivering and weak. She was vaguely aware the bright sky was darkening with oppressive black clouds. Seemed only fitting. She kept running, pushing her muscles beyond endurance. And not stopping until the clouds finally blotted the sun and let loose with another round of heavy, chilling rain.
Head bent and outspread hands clutching her knees, she sucked in air. Rain pummeled her bare skin and dripped to the g
round, highlighting the fact that she was very much exposed to the elements.
And very much alone.
She might very well die in the forest.
A twig snapped sharply, somewhere to her left. She took a step away, running her hands up and down her arms in an effort to stop a sudden attack of shivers. But right then her lack of clothes was the least of her concerns. She was far more naked and defenseless without her bow and arrows.
She scanned the surrounds. Rain blurred everything more than ten yards ahead into a dull gray. Endless pine trees towered into the torrential-carpeted sky. Branches streamed rainwater onto pine saplings and the damp and rotting undergrowth, where wet soil and decaying vegetation was a sharp, musty tang in her nostrils.
The best weapon of choice under the circumstances would be a sharp-ended stick. Then she’d worry about some kind of protection from the elements.
But oh lord, what she’d do right then for her clothes, her bow and arrows and Millie.
Something black flashed in her peripheral vision. She pivoted sharply, her breath catching. Nightmix? She swallowed hard. She’d never outrun such a predator. And without a weapon she was as vulnerable as a baby without its mother. She looked up. She needed to climb. Fast.
The nearest mature pine with accessible low limbs was only yards away. She half-ran, half-stumbled the short distance before hauling herself up the tree and climbing as fast as humanly possible. No easy feat with rain impairing her vision and slicking the rough trunk and branches.
She stopped about halfway, crouching between the V of the tree’s trunk and a thick branch. Pine needles helped conceal her while keeping off at least a little of the wetness. And when the rain eventually stopped it’d make for a great vantage point.
Yeah, but I’m stuck here. I won’t make it home sitting still and growing blue from the cold and rain.
Another flash of black stopped all thought. Her heart restarted when she spotted a big crow. It dipped a wing and landed on a branch above her, its dark eyes glinting and hungry.
“Get away.” She waved a goose-bumped arm and the bird took off with a flap of wings and a harsh cry. The damn crow could starve, because she sure as hell wasn’t about to give up and die anytime soon.
