Alpha Hunter

by Cyndi Friberg

  Her head was still spinning when he separated their bodies and flipped her over. He drew up her hips and waited for her to fold her legs beneath her before he thrust back into her slick passage. “Yes!” He clasped her hips and resumed his steady thrusting.

  She missed being able to see his face, but the position had other advantages. Each drive filled her more deeply and rubbed across a place inside her that electrified her senses. She’d heard stories about the G-spot, but Blayne was her first lover to actually find it.

  Tossing her head, she sent her hair flying. She felt wild and desirable, free to express her pleasure. She tightened her inner muscles and he gasped, so she did it again.

  “Keep that up and this will be over before it’s begun.”

  She laughed. She’d already had one orgasm and was nearly there again. If they weren’t long past the beginning, she was in serious trouble.

  He pulled her up, pressing her back to his front. He was still inside her, but made no move to reestablish his rhythm. He cupped her breasts and teased her nipples then ran both hands down her sides. “Your body is amazing. I’ll never tire of touching you.” One of his arms banded her waist while his other hand explored her sex. She was stretched tight around his shaft and his gentle touches only accented how completely he filled her. “Give me your mouth.”

  She turned her head and angled her torso so their lips could meet. The position was awkward, but she didn’t care. Their mouths met and meshed, tongues sliding and curling around each other. He anchored her hips against him with one arm as his other hand rebuilt her arousal. His long middle finger settled over her clit, caressing her in gentle circles. Tension gathered beneath his fingertip increasing with each careful rotation.

  Uncertainty rippled through the pleasure. He was doing it again, controlling her body as if he were a puppet master and she a helpless marionette. She tore her mouth away from his, panting harshly. “How are you…”

  “It’s not magic, love. It’s our link. I can sense your emotions and feel what you feel. I know when something gives you pleasure and when it doesn’t. No mind tricks or compulsions.”

  Needing to see his face, she wiggled away and turned around. They were both still kneeling and she felt less vulnerable. “I sense your emotions too, but I don’t feel what you feel.” Actually, she had for just a moment the day before, but the phenomenon hadn’t happened again.

  “Your mind is still guarded. You’ll sense me more clearly as you learn to trust me.”

  She started to protest that she did trust him, but there was no point lying to herself. She wanted to trust him, was trying to trust him, but she wasn’t there yet.

  He cupped the side of her face and titled her chin with his thumb. “You’ve made incredible progress. I’m amazed at how open you are. Take your time. There’s no reason to rush this. We have the rest of our lives to—” He lowered his arm. “Sorry. I only meant that you have as much time as you need.”

  She smiled and echoed his touch, pressing her hand to the side of his face. “I can’t promise you forever. My life doesn’t seem to work that way. But I understand that this is special. I don’t want to screw it up.”

  Turning his head, he kissed the center of her palm then smiled into her eyes. “I can work with that.” He scooted to the edge of the bed and sat then lowered his feet to the floor. “Come here.” He held out his hand and craned his neck so he could see her.

  It was obvious what he had in mind. She crawled onto his lap, straddling his thighs. Was he trying to keep things interesting or was he avoiding the missionary position? Her memories often flared when she was flat on her back, so it was probably a wise precaution.

  He bent to her breasts before she could rejoin their bodies. She was about to object when his lips latched on and sent pleasure lancing between her thighs. She moaned and dropped her head back, arching into the kiss. Then his hand was between her thighs and he was rubbing her sex with something hot and blunt and—his cock, he was caressing her folds with the tip of his cock, teasing her clit in the process.

  “In me,” she pleaded. “I need you back inside me.”

  “Like this?” He parted her folds and positioned himself at her entrance.

  Rather than play his game, she grabbed his shoulders and lowered her body onto his. The angle was perfect and her descent was fast and deep. They both groaned as her inner muscles gripped his thickness. “Like that,” she countered with a triumphant grin.

  “Are you always so impatient?” He grasped her hips with both hands, keeping her from moving.

  “Impatient?” She laughed. “We started this back on Earth. I think two days of foreplay is enough for anyone.”

  “Good point.” He moved his hands to the bed behind him and stared into her eyes. “Ride me.”

  More than happy to obey that particular command, she raised and lowered her hips, experimenting with motion and angle until she found the perfect combination to drive them both crazy. Her breasts jostled and she braced herself against his chest, her back slightly arched. She was in control, using his amazing body to pleasure her own. The realization was heady and liberating. He wanted her enough to release control to her, at least temporarily.

  She took him deep again and again, each penetration sending a fresh rush of sensation through her entire body. This still felt wrong, as if something vital was missing. She didn’t want to take from him, she wanted to share this with him. “Move with me.”

  His hands moved to her hips, shifting the angle of his cock inside her. She gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the rasp of her nipples against his chest. He moved against and into her, combining the upward thrust of his hips with the rolling motion of hers.

  She wanted to savor their first time, to make it last as long as possible, but her body had other ideas. Her inner muscles fluttered and her womb clenched, signaling the onset of her next orgasm.

  “Don’t fight it.” He panted against her cheek, his hips bucking frantically. “I can’t hold back any longer.”

  She slammed down over him, taking his entire length deep into her body. Her pleasure burst with staggering force. She clung to him, her face buried in his damp hair as pleasure pulsed through her and into him.

  He cried out sharply and followed her over, his cock jerking as his seed released. For just a moment, she felt his pleasure, understood how their link was supposed to function. They were meant to be one, sharing every sensation, every thought, every emotion equally.

  All too soon her muscles relaxed and her mind reengaged. Her end of the link shrank, constricting the flow to a manageable trickle. She understood the difference now and she was saddened by her own cowardice.

  He framed her face with his hands and kissed her mouth. “We’ll get there, love. I’m not in a hurry.”

  She laughed, her mind twisting his meaning. “Any man who can keep me simmering for two days is definitely not in a hurry.”

  “Are you complaining? Give me a minute to catch my breath and I’ll show you how impatient I can be.”

  She wiggled closer and tightened herself around his burgeoning length. “Your minute starts right now.”

  * * * * *

  The next week passed in a flurry of activity. Each day was focused on helping Angie acquire as much control over her abilities as possible before they returned to Earth. Their nights were a dazzling combination of demanding passion and tenderness. They never spoke of love, but Angie could feel Blayne’s affection maturing into something deeper than physical attraction. She thought he was a wonderful teacher and an exceptional lover, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever want more. This was an affair, an enjoyable interlude. Still, she had no doubt it would eventually end. Her relationships always did.

  Drakkin released the temporal element in Angie’s gift twelve days after she arrived on Bilarri. He joined them in the common room of their suite, which had become their primary training room. She’d had Blayne in her mind so often in the previous days that Drakkin’s pr
esence wasn’t nearly as upsetting as it had been the first time. He was quick and professional, sweeping in with surgical precision and channeling energy into the area of her gift that was still latent.

  “Why were my powers bound in the first place?” She rubbed her temples, hoping the lingering throb would abate.

  “They weren’t actually bound,” Drakkin told her. “They were latent, present but inactive. Ontarian children start scanning their minds as soon as they’re old enough to understand the concept. If they sense a potential ability in themselves, they can often activate their own gift. If not, a parent or family friend will energize the gift as soon as they deem the child old enough, and responsible enough, to master the skill. On Earth the possibility that you might have this sort of ability never occurred to you so your gift remained dormant.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Blayne moved closer to Angie as Drakkin prepared to leave.

  “She’s made remarkable progress. Keep up the good work.”

  Angie smiled. With typical Mystic arrogance, Drakkin had offered the compliment to Blayne rather than her. True, she hadn’t even realized she had magic powers until she met Blayne, but she’d worked her ass off to overcome her own disbelief and master each skill he’d introduced to her.

  “He didn’t mean anything by it,” Blayne assured her after Drakkin left the common room.

  She arched her brows, suddenly ready for a fight. “You better be responding to my annoyed expression. You know the rules. The only time you’re allowed in my mind—”

  “Is when I’m inside you.” He finished the stipulation in a sexy whisper as he pulled her into his arms.

  She slapped his hand away from her ass and wiggled out of reach. “None of that until today’s lesson has been completed to my satisfaction.”

  “To your satisfaction?” He chuckled. “I’m the teacher. Shouldn’t I determine when the lesson is over?”

  “All right. You can determine how long we go now, but I decide when I’m satisfied tonight.”

  His brows shot up, mocking her earlier expression. “Have you been left wanting in my arms?”

  “You know the answer to that. Do you need to hear it?”

  “I’d rather…” Despite their playful banter, disappointment flickered in his gaze.

  He’d rather have her trust him enough to accept the unrestricted link. Then she wouldn’t have to tell him how she felt; he’d experience it right along with her. She didn’t need to be psychic to understand what he’d been about to say. He could sense her emotions when she was lost in passion or extremely upset, but as soon as she calmed down, her side of their connection compressed again. And worst of all, she wasn’t doing it intentionally. She’d tried to expand the link, to give him deeper access to her mind. Nothing happened. He was convinced it was a subconscious protective mechanism and that it would release gradually as she learned to trust him. He’d been careful not to pressure her, but it was obvious he was ready for more than she was willing, perhaps able, to give.

  Before she could find words to express her frustration, he switched back to mentor mode. “Manipulating the temporal stream is not significantly different than projecting your consciousness through space.”

  The casual statement made her laugh. She couldn’t help it. She’d finally accepted that she was on a different planet and that aliens really did exist. She was even starting to get used to the idea of being more than human. But each time she found her footing he threw a new obstacle in her path. “Do you understand how absurd that sounds? Interplanetary voyeurism is surreal enough. Now you want me to screw with time?”

  “Farseeing, even temporal farseeing, is a passive gift. You’re basically recon. That’s why most people don’t react when you enter their minds. Instinctively they know you can’t hurt them.”

  “Then what good is my ability?” And why was she working so hard to perfect her control over it?

  “Accurate information is vital to most situations. Military missions, scientific research, even personal choices all begin with data. Farseers are able to provide information when no one else can. Passive doesn’t mean unimportant.”

  She nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “So far you’ve used one person’s perspective to keep the connection anchored. I want to see if you can head hop, move from one person to another within the same scene.”

  “All right.” It didn’t seem to matter how outlandish his suggestions sounded, somehow, he always found a way to help her succeed. “What do you want me to do?”

  “The list is endless.” A sexy smile slowly curved his lips and she detected a subtle rotation in his eyes.

  “You never explained the eye thing.”

  “The eye thing?” He chuckled and stable concentric rings formed within his eyes again.

  “Are you changing the appearance of your eyes now or did you lose control over them the other night?”

  “Ontarian eyes have a subtle rotation. The color combinations form gentle swirls rather than specific rings. I, however, frequently work off world so I’m often required to change my physical appearance. Shapeshifting is not my primary ability, so I’ve tried to find a shape that blends well with numerous worlds.”

  “Release your shift. I want to see your natural shape.”

  “I’m not sure I can. I’ve maintained this appearance for so long—”

  “Keep making that face and it will freeze like that?” She laughed. “My mother used to threaten me with that.”

  “Well, if she suspected you could shapeshift, it might not have been an idle threat.”

  Her eyes widened and her mouth went dry. “Am I a shapeshifter? Drakkin never said anything about other abilities.”

  “I was trying to lighten your mood. If Drakkin had sensed any other abilities, he would have told you.”

  She blew out a ragged sigh. “Good. I don’t think I’d like… Wait a minute. How’d we get so far off track? I want to see your real face.”

  “It’s not that different from what you see now.”

  “Then get it over with.” She accented the challenge by arching her brows.

  He tilted his head and closed his eyes. For a moment he seemed to fade out of focus and then his true features formed. His cheekbones were sharper, his brow a bit wider and his eyes tilted up at the corners. He blinked then opened his eyes and she felt the magnetic pull of his Ontarian gaze. Slowly swirling pools of silver, blue and gray encompassed the entire surface of his eyes.

  His dark hair flowed away from his face and disappeared behind his back. Curious, she leaned around him and gasped. “Is all this real?” She lifted one ankle-long strand and wrapped it around her hand, savoring the silky texture.

  “As a shapeshifter matures sensitivity increases along with control. The last time I attempted to cut my hair it was excruciating.” As he spoke the strand she’d captured spiraled up her arm.

  Tingles broke out in the wake of his unusual caress and she shivered. “Sensitivity and control.” The strand unwound then swished back behind him. She gasped again and looked into his eyes. He’d reverted to his humanoid appearance. She produced a playful pout. “I liked you better before. You looked like a dark elf.”

  He laughed, unaffected by the criticism. “Have you seen many dark elves?”

  “I see why your natural appearance would be a hindrance on Earth, but I think you’re…beautiful.”

  “Not as beautiful as you.”

  The warm sincerity in his tone held her captive for a moment. How could one man have so many facets? He was strong, sometimes ruthless, yet unbelievably gentle when she needed comfort or reassurance.

  He rolled his shoulders then held out his hand. “Are you ready to work now or are you still too distracted?”

  “My distractibility seems to lead to the bedroom.” She smiled. “You shouldn’t encourage me.”

  His shoulders squared and his features fell into an imperious mask. “One of us has to remember that this isn’t a holiday. Head hopp
ing is our current lesson. I need you to—”

  “Can we at least get out of this room? I’m going stir-crazy.”

  The mask slipped and he laughed. “You’re a horrible student.” He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. “Good thing you’re a wonderful ma— Companion.”

  She didn’t miss the slip. Did he really think she was his life mate? She wrapped her arms around his lean middle and snuggled into the warmth of his chest.

  “Outside or would you like to see more of the lodge?”

  “Lodge?” She shook her head. “This is a royal residence. Doesn’t that make it a palace?”

  “Drakkin’s children live in Hautell House, the primary royal residence. Drakkin moved here when he abdicated the throne. It was once a hunting lodge, but it’s been expanded greatly over the centuries.” He turned her toward the door and slipped his hand around hers. “Outside or in?”

  She intertwined their fingers then followed him from the room. “Inside. It’s been threatening to rain all afternoon.”

  “We’ll use the Fireside Room.”

  He led her down the main staircase and toward the back of the house. The library was down this hall, but most of the doors were closed so she wasn’t sure which one concealed the familiar room. “Are we the only guests?”

  “As of this morning we are. The other visitors departed.”

  “Is our departure scheduled?”

  He glanced at her and smiled. “Depends how quickly you pick this up. Are you in a hurry to go home?”

  She shrugged. “My apartment is nothing special, but I miss Tori.”

  “Have you contacted her again?”

  “Briefly. Neither of us is confident in our shields, so we have to be careful what we say.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I can shield the link for you unless you’re telling secrets about me of course.”

  “We have no secrets from each other.” She smiled as her cheeks warmed. “You know more about me than she does.”

  “Which is as it should be.”

  They emerged into a sort of rustic atrium. The far wall was constructed of peeled logs and massive sheets of something transparent that were flexible enough to curve. The opposite wall contained the largest fireplace Tori had ever seen. Several clusters of furniture had been arranged in casual groupings. Blayne led her to the sofa and chairs set before the hearth.