by Black, C. I.
“Anaea.”
She cupped his face, rubbing her thumbs along his jaw. If she didn’t stop he was going to start purring again.
“Anaea, I—”
“Shut up, Hunter.”
She planted her lips against his, as if she feared his rejection or her loss of courage. Which was ridiculous on both accounts. Cross-species or not, she was the one he wanted for life. And as for courage, he suspected it flowed, constant and sure, through her veins.
He met her lips with his own hunger. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, licking and teasing, drawing an inferno from deep within him. All thought flew from his mind, consumed by a tremendous need.
He lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he turned them, pressing her back to the rough wall. She moaned into his mouth, fueling his frenzy. His blood pounded through him. He had to have her. For real. Right now.
But she deserved more. Certainly more than being taken, without care, in public. She deserved to be wooed properly. Maybe not in a dragon’s terms but certainly in human ones.
A chill raced over him. A new, terrible thought popped into his mind. Who was she really kissing? Him or the man whose body he possessed? She hadn’t wanted to kiss him earlier, so why now?
He eased away from her lips. It was too soon. She couldn’t want this or him. Maybe in the future, maybe once he’d figured out how to keep her safe. But this... this need wasn’t for him. It was to ease the tremendous shock she had to be in. It was the only explanation. And the honorable thing to do would be to wait until she was thinking straight.
She dipped her lips to his, but he leaned back. He couldn’t take advantage of her like this. He slid her legs from his waist and stepped back.
“Hunter?”
He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t bear to face how his perceived rejection would make her feel, even if it was the right thing to do.
“We should get back to the hotel.”
“What?”
From the corner of his eye he watched her tremble, every line of her body rigid, exuding rage.
“It isn’t safe.” He was a fool, even if he was a fool for the right reason.
She clenched her fists, opened her mouth and snapped it shut. Then she wilted in on herself.
His heart ached. In the blink of an eye his warrior dragoness was gone. And it was his fault.
She sniffed. “Fine.”
CHAPTER 28
Anaea followed Hunter into the hotel suite, her lips still burning from the kiss. She had fantasized of running to Mark, after she realized she’d been a fool and her husband didn’t love her. But it hadn’t been Mark she kissed in that courtyard and it wasn’t Mark she wanted now.
How could she want Hunter so badly in so short of a time? It didn’t make sense, and yet she couldn’t deny her yearning to be drowning in his kisses again.
And it was Mark’s body.
Her throat tightened. Her life was supposed to be over. Not his. It was too cruel that everyone around her died while she lived.
She threw open the curtains and stared out at the city, unable to focus on anything beyond the glass. God, she wanted Hunter more than she’d wanted anyone before. But he’d lied to her, kept secrets, and bossed her around. Admittedly, it might have been for her own good but she was done with men who wanted to do her thinking for her.
And now he wasn’t talking to her. He’d been silent since he’d cut off their kiss, far too early for her liking. She still throbbed with unsatisfied desire. He’d probably realized she was damaged goods, or too independent, or something. There was a lot of her to find fault with. She just wished he’d say something.
Hunter stormed to the window and yanked the curtains closed. He didn’t turn to her. The knuckles of his hands still clenching the curtains grew white. Anger mixed with something she couldn’t recognize rolled off of him in red waves more palpable than she’d ever experienced before.
Yep. No love here.
What if it had been a pity kiss? She had been the one to initiate it. Sure, he’d kissed back, but what man wouldn’t? Maybe the sensual dreams had put crazy thoughts in her head and made her imagine that the attraction went both ways.
No. That couldn’t be true. There were other moments when he’d seemed interested in her. Going to the spa had probably turned him off. She wasn’t good and quiet and obedient.
But that had been what John had wanted, not Hunter.
Fine. Whatever.
So she’d screwed up. But he shouldn’t have told her to stay put and expected her to do so. Which made it his fault. Okay, that was childish, but she didn’t have anything else to hold on to.
“Are we going to talk about what we found or are you going to stand there all night and pout?” she asked.
“No.” He didn’t turn around.
She clenched her jaw. “You’re just going to stand there and ignore me.”
“I’m seriously considering it.”
Oh for the love of— “Fine. I’ll share first.”
Hunter remained focused on the closed curtains clutched between his hands.
“Nero was there.”
“I saw that.”
Anaea waited for him to continue. He didn’t. Swell. “He was having a conversation.”
“I saw that, too.”
“Let me guess. You speak Italian.”
He pursed his lips.
That would be a ‘no.’ Bully for her. But then, she knew that. It was in his memories, floating through her head. Probably the same way she knew to rub his jaw to turn him on and the reason she wanted to growl her frustration. She no longer knew where he ended and she began and at the moment she didn’t care.
She brushed his shoulder, making him twitch. Frustration bubbled from him, so strong she could feel it.
“What did they say?” he asked, releasing the curtains and leveling his dark gaze on her.
Her lips tingled anew. She didn’t care if the attraction was one-sided. She just wanted to kiss him again and again.
She swallowed hard. “I didn’t hear much, but Nero seemed to think he couldn’t have you asking questions.”
“Why?” Hunter leaned close.
If she closed her eyes, she could imagine his breath caressing her face. “He didn’t say.”
She inched up on her toes and tilted her face to him. Please let him notice the invitation.
“Then I think—” Hunter said.
His lips were close, so close. A fraction more and—
He jerked away. “I think I need to ask some questions.”
* * *
Hunter rushed into the bedroom, shouldering the door mostly closed. He was honorable. Really. He didn’t take advantage of a woman when she was confused. He might flirt a little, but that was different. Honestly. Yep. Sure—
Mother of All, she was driving him crazy and it was too easy for him to lose focus.
He had to concentrate on who was trying to kill them, then get Regis to accept her as a sorcerer, and then he could court her properly—once she’d had time to heal and figure out what she wanted.
Not sooner.
But damn, he yearned to sweep her off her feet and fulfill the promises he’d made to her in her dreams, the promise of being inamorated. The kiss in the courtyard had been almost too much for him.
He grew hard at the memory.
This was a disaster.
He sucked in a breath. It did little to cool his rising passion. He sat on the bed by the phone and forced himself to pick up the receiver and not think about Anaea, naked on top of the sheets.
A purr threatened to escape.
Shit. Cold showers. Ice baths. Killing things.
He punched in Grey’s number and waited.
“Hello?” Anger, barely contained, edged Grey’s voice.
“Hello to you, too.”
“What? Who is this?”
“You have to ask? Who else calls you?” If Hunter wasn’t so wound up about Anaea, he’d find Grey’s r
eaction hilarious.
“Hunter? How the hell am I to know? Where are you and where’s Anaea?”
“Safe. Fine.” She was more than fine, but he didn’t want to get Grey started. Just the thought of Grey thinking about Anaea’s safety made his hackles rise.
“Regis isn’t going to like that. And just what the hell happened?”
“Regis doesn’t have to know.” Although how Hunter was going to keep that from his Prince was a problem he didn’t want to contemplate right now. “And we’re not going to talk about it.”
“Fine.” Grey didn’t sound pleased. Well, neither was Hunter, so they could be miserable together.
“Is Nero still at his estate just outside of Newgate?”
“I’ve heard that tone before. You can’t go collecting his soul without a warrant.”
“Not having a warrant is the least of my worries. I’m done running.”
The line went quiet for so long, Hunter feared his friend had hung up.
“Okay.” Grey sighed. “Let me do some checking around. Where are you?”
“The Royal Park.”
“Really?” Mischief crept into Grey’s voice. “Decided to wine and dine the pretty lady with a fancy suite.”
“It’s not like that,” Hunter said, but his protest sounded pathetic even to his ears.
“Then you go out for a while and I’ll wine and dine her.”
“Goodbye, Grey.”
“No, really, I’m sure she’s worth a trip to the human realm.”
“Goodbye, Grey.”
Grey chuckled, but it sounded forced.
Hunter hung up. A knock drew his attention and Anaea stepped into the doorway, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed.
“We have unfinished business.” She radiated strength and defiance. He could practically see her aura even though his body had yet to connect to the earth’s magic.
His mind leapt back to the kiss in the courtyard. Boy, did they have unfinished business. But he didn’t think that was what she meant. He’d ordered her around in his attempt to keep her safe. And he’d do it again.
“I—”
She was trembling. He could see it even across the room.
His heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong. She was upset, afraid.
“I—”
He rushed to her, but didn’t know what to do once close. If he touched her, would she shy away? Mother of All, he just wanted her to stop quivering. His heart was breaking into thousands of little pieces. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” All defiance melted away.
She turned to go, but he captured her shoulders.
“You can tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
God, if only shaking sense into someone worked. “It matters to me.”
“Oh, really?” Her gaze shot up to meet his.
There was his warrior drake. She stirred heat within him just from a look. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded.
“Fine.” She jerked out of his grasp and widened her stance. “You don’t tell me what to do and you don’t kiss me unless you mean it.”
“I meant it.” Boy, had he meant it. But he didn’t know if she knew whether she had meant it or not.
“Gee. Looked that way to me when you left me completely unsatisfied in that courtyard.”
“You want satisfaction?” A growl bubbled within him. He was unsatisfied, too. More than unsatisfied.
She stepped close, hands on hips, chin tilted defiantly. Everything about her dared him to kiss her.
CHAPTER 29
Anaea’s heart pounded. She’d never been so forthright in her life. And she’d never been so confused and frustrated, either. She wanted to kiss Hunter again but she had no idea if he wanted her. How he felt about her mattered. Beyond any explanation or logic, it mattered.
“You want satisfaction?” he asked.
“Only if you mean it.”
He grabbed the back of her head and claimed her mouth with his own. His tongue probed her lips with ferocious licks until she was weak and breathless.
Yes, this was what she wanted. This was who she wanted.
With a gasp, he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. His chest heaved as he gasped in air. “I meant that.” He took another deep breath and captured her gaze with his. “And I mean this, too.”
He picked her up, carried her to the bed, and eased her back, drawing forth an inferno within her from his gaze alone. His lips trailed down her neck, making her shiver with anticipation.
Oh God, yes. It was her dream made real and taken to the next level. Perfect, delicious. Right.
He tugged her sweater from her jeans and ice swept through her.
But this wasn’t the dream. Everything about her was wrong. She was broken, scarred. Incomplete. Less of a woman.
She captured his hands, stopping their upward movement.
“Anaea, let me look at you.”
She shook her head, her mouth dry. Her voice had abandoned her.
He kissed her hands. “You’re beautiful. Let me see you for real, with my own eyes.”
“No, I’m—” She swallowed hard. She didn’t know how she could explain how she had willingly and desperately maimed herself.
He nuzzled between her hands, pressing tender kisses to her belly. His breath sizzled over her skin. And yet, she couldn’t stop shaking. Why couldn’t she be like she’d been in her dream? Like she had been... before.
He circled her bellybutton with his tongue. Wet heat blossomed between her legs. She wanted him, wanted to feel normal. But her trembling wouldn’t stop. Her gut churned at the thought that he’d turn away from her the moment he truly saw her.
He glanced at her, his gaze simmering with desire and adoration. She looked away, tears burning her eyes.
“Anaea, look at me.”
She couldn’t. Her vision wavered and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Anaea.”
She took a shuddering breath and a tear escaped. She was such a fool to think she wanted this.
But she did, more desperately than she’d wanted anything. Even to live.
Hunter slid up beside her on the bed and gathered her in his arms, murmuring against her temple. “You have nothing to fear.”
That wasn’t true anymore. When she’d first met him she’d already accepted her death. She hadn’t feared facing the unknown as much as she feared the look on his face when he finally saw all of her.
“I’ve done things.” More tears seeped from between her lashes.
“We’ve shared a body. I know.” He kissed the tears from her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter to me.” He ran a finger along the waistband of her pants.
Her trembling continued. “But—”
“Please. Let me look at you.” He inched his finger higher.
She bit her lip but didn’t stop him.
She could do this.
She had to do this.
Face this fear.
He eased her sweater off and she looked away. He’d provided her with a sports bra with the clothes that he’d ordered, but she hadn’t had the heart to put it on without a falsie to fill out her right cup. She couldn’t bear to see his expression at her scar.
But he didn’t jerk back, shudder, or even pause at the sight of her. Instead, he kissed his way across her belly, up her ribcage, and brushed his lips along the puckered edge of her scar, lovingly, reverently. He nudged her cheek with a gentle finger, drawing her gaze. There was no fear, no disgust in his eyes.
You are amazing.
Her trembling stilled. Hunter’s yearning and respect and love seeped through her. She could feel his presence within her mind as if he were back in her body. He didn’t see her as broken. He never had. Her scar was a testament to her prowess in the battles of her own life. He saw a warrior, an Amazon.
“Your body reflects your spirit. And what I see is magnificent.”
She
pressed her lips to his and his passion radiated through her, magnified by her longing, until they were kissing and licking and sucking in a frenzy of need. All remaining fear of her body burned away with the truth of Hunter’s desire. He’d realized early on what she’d done. But he belonged to a race of spirits. Physical form didn’t matter nearly as much as the soul.
The honesty of his emotions, permeating every fiber of her being, was a balm for her broken heart. It wasn’t a cure and wouldn’t eliminate any scars, inside or out, but over time wounds healed and scars faded.
She dragged his T-shirt off and slid her body against his, savoring the feel of warm flesh against flesh. He slid his hands all over her with long, strong strokes. Erotic emotions, his emotions, swept through her, fanning the frenzy within her until she thought she’d explode at even the slightest touch.
He leaned back, panting with her, and stripped out of his clothes. Then, with sensually slow movements, he slipped off her pants and panties. He gazed upon her and this time she writhed in anticipation. He’d make her come just with his gaze, if he continued to look at her with such lust for much longer.
He brushed his fingers low along her abdomen. She jerked, more heat surging through her. His fingers trailed lower. Inch by inch. Just a little lower. Just like the dream. Except this wasn’t the dream. It was better.
One more inch and he was caressing her core. She arched and writhed, her orgasm quivering on the verge. Then he plunged his finger in her, taking her over the edge, the fire within her exploding in a dizzying rush of light and sensation.
Breathless, she squirmed on top of the sheets. It was magnificent and she craved more. All of it. She yearned for the feel of him within her. He leaned down to kiss her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their gazes met, perfect understanding passing between them. He slid inside her, sending waves of glorious sensation pounding through both of them, completing the bond: soul, mind, and body.
* * *
Zenobia shifted on the stone bench in the empty hall. Regis was late. It might have had something to do with the Handmaiden’s sudden disappearance and Baltu burning down—of which, she was only sort of responsible for one of those problems—but in the eight hundred or so years she’d been watching him, he’d never missed a visit to his private Temple of the Mother. He’d always freshened up in his room first then used this simple, narrow hall to get to the temple for half an hour of meditation just after lunch. If Regis had one good quality it was his devoutness. However, being devout didn’t equal good, or even competent, leadership. But it did make him thankfully predictable.
