Huntbound (Moonfate Serial Book 2) (2 page)

I can already feel an answer beginning to assemble itself in my brain. What were Orion’s very first words to me when we met? A quote from
The Tempest
. ‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on, you and I.’

And the way he doesn’t look at the room around him. Like he memorized every inch of it long ago.

“It’s yours,” I whisper.

“What is?” He closes the paperback with a snap, although his voice is suddenly light. Too light, considering his earlier hurry to rush me out of here.

“This is your nightmare,” I say.

Chapter Two

“Yes,” Orion whispers. Absently, he strokes the spine of the paperback. Something about the motion reminds me of when I sat inside the tent, right before my parents were murdered, touching their shadows, trying to gather them up and keep them safe. Suddenly, some part of me wants to gather him up and keep him safe, too. But I don’t have time to feel bad for him. He’s right. We have to get out of here.

Cold shoots up through my bare feet as I pad toward the door. It’s too obvious to be the real way out, I know that. But I have to try something. I reach out and grab the knob, but immediately draw back. Jesus. It’s even colder than the floor.

“The door’s not the way out and you know it.”

I turn to Orion, who’s leaning against the bedpost. The florescent lights flicker, sending shadows skittering over his sharp cheekbones.

I shove my hands into my armpits. “Okay, tell me how we get out of here, then.”

“I have another idea. Come here.” He holds out his arms in what I guess is supposed to be a welcoming gesture. But his muscled body looks about as comfortable and warm as a statue.

“Why?”
 

I glance around at the walls, looking for bloodstains or whip marks or something, anything that would explain why this is the place Orion’s mind returns him to every night. But all I sense is the stinging stench of chemicals burning my nostrils. It kind of smells like my old photography lab from high school, back when we had cameras with black and white film.

“I’m not going to kiss you, silly girl. Come. Here.” Orion’s voice softens, but underneath runs a strong thread of control, of power. His werecall.

Beyond my own will, my feet stumble toward him. He catches me in his arms, pressing me to his smooth but surprisingly soft chest. One of his hands falls to the small of my back supportively, while the other rests on my head before beginning to stroke my hair.

I can’t smell him very well, but I don’t have to. Just being close to him makes my every cell sigh in relief at his touch and whisper, ‘home.’ I thought the desire he could wake in me was dangerous, but this comfort is worse.

“Orion,” I whisper against his chest. “We’re not going anywhere.”

With the same gingerness he used with the book, his fingers part and then un-part my curls. “You have to stop fighting the bond, Little Mate, or we never will.”

“I’m not fighting anything. I’m here, aren’t I?” I nestle myself further into his embrace, even as I close my eyes and steady my breathing to keep myself from being swept away by the slow tide of need seeping through my blood.
 

“Something is holding you back. Or the dream would’ve ended a long time ago.” His eyes darken with desire, and his thumb follows the curve of my shoulder down to the top of my breast in a firm stroke.

My nipples, already stiff from the cold, harden further. I bite my lip to stop it from trembling. “H-how do you know you’re not the one keeping us in the dream? It’s your nightmare.”

His fingers dip lower until they flirt with the edge of my areola. For a second I wonder why he’s being gentle at all. If it’s just closeness that will end the dream, then why not use his werecall like he did before? The only explanation is that he can’t just eliminate my resistance.

“I have to give in,” I whisper dumbly, not wanting to believe it, but knowing it’s true. “To you.” Even as the dread in my stomach mounts, so does the ache between my legs. My muscles tense in anticipation of his coming touch.

He whispers a kiss to my forehead. “Tell me why you’ve been running from me, Artemis. Why you’re resisting. And I can fix it. And then, I think, we will be able to leave.”

“Fix it?”

The words press into my heart like the edge of a dull knife and even through the cold anger simmers in my veins.

Fix it.
Like he can just wave his hand and make me not care that my parents are dead. Like I could ever forget about the seven years of loneliness and fear I suffered running from him. From his kind.

He may not know what he’s saying. He must not know who I really am. But that doesn’t matter. Even if it means being stuck here forever, I can’t tell him. I can’t let him take away my grief about my parents. It’s all I have left of them, and if I lose that, some part of me is sure it will be like they never existed at all. Like they were nothing more than a dream.

“We’ll wake up eventually, won’t we?”

“In a couple of hours, and who knows what will have happened to your friend by then.” He presses another kiss to my forehead, but does nothing else.

He’s letting this be my choice. Or maybe it has to be. Maybe that’s just the way it is. I don’t get the luxury of having him decide for me. My chest squeezes with the force of my decision, and the already cramped room seems to shrink even further.

I can’t. I can’t do this. Let Lawrence suffer or tell Orion about my parents and have him just erase my grief? It’s an impossible choice.

It’s a good thing that I’m holding on to Orion, because I’m pretty sure I’m about to collapse. Crushed up against his strong form, my whole body pangs with guilt and despair, and below that, as always, is the throbbing of lust.

Orion wants me, too. His hardness presses against my thigh.

His denim jeans conform to his body in a way that makes clear that he’s definitely not wearing underwear. I’ve never seen a guy look so big underneath his clothing before. I’m almost worried he’s going to split the denim in two.

“What about another way?” My tongue sneaks out to wet my lips, and I can feel each beat of my heart like an exclamation point.

“Yes?” Orion’s gaze follows mine, and his brows furrow. “If you initiate it, it might work.”

You’d think he’d be excited that I’m checking him out. He is, the bulge proves it, but his masculine face is cast in a combination of numbness and longing along with hunger. It’s an expression I know well.

Staring at him is like looking at my reflection in a broken mirror. I wonder if he sees himself in me too. If he feels this overpowering need to touch me even if it means bloodying himself on the shards. I can’t gaze at him any longer. I can’t let my soul be bound to him in empathy. So I’ll let my body be bound to his in desire instead.

I kiss him.

His soft, wet mouth burns against mine. I may have started the kiss, but he deepens it, his tongue pushing past my lips. I meet him, stroking his tongue with my own. When he nips at my lower lip, I bite back, harder, until I taste something warm and metallic, but strangely sweet. His blood, I realize.

Even then, I don’t stop. I want to eliminate this connection, to purge it from my veins, pour the corruption of need that’s infected my soul back into him where it belongs. I fist his hair, pulling him closer.

He growls, sending his chest vibrating against mine and tickling my nipples. I tug at his downy platinum hair, liking the wolfishness of his noises, wanting him to make more.

He doesn’t obey. Instead, he separates my thighs, and before I can register it, he’s cupping my crotch. His finger makes a tiny circle over my clit. Once. Just once.

“Ah,” I groan. I want more. I crave that sweet oblivion. And he’s keeping it from me. I dive toward his neck and suck there hard until I know even his super-human skin will be mottled.

But my plan doesn’t work. His hands leave.

No!
I dig my fingernails into his scalp, but not for long. In an instant he has a vice grip around both of my wrists and is steamrolling me back against the wall. I writhe in his hold. Less because I’m trying to get away, and more because now that this has started I need him to be moving faster.

I need to have him inside of me.

My back collides with the wall, sending my bones rattling with the force of the impact. I squirm forward, trying to kiss him again. I need that bittersweet taste of him. God, I have so much need and so suddenly. I close my eyes, trying to block out everything but the sensation of his hard body against mine. Maybe that will end the dream.

“Look at me, Artemis.” Orion grabs my chin.

My eyes fly open, and I stare at him with a defiance and fire I didn’t even know I possessed. Funny how giving in can make me discover my strength.

“I’m going to fuck you now. And you need to know that no matter how hard I come inside you, no matter how hard I make you come, it won’t sate you. You will wake from this dream wanting more, craving it until you’ll beg me to claim you in reality, too.”
 

He grinds his hardness against my crotch to punctuate the point, but it’s the force of hearing him use a word as human and dirty as ‘fuck’ that makes my core clench.

“Those are just words, Orion,” I say. “Prove them.”

Chapter Three

He attacks my jeans first, tearing them in two in a single motion. A flood of cold air washes against my skin. I keen, but I don’t break eye contact. If this is a battle of wills, I’m not going to lose. I’m going to claw my way out of this dream myself and leave no part of my soul behind.

He smiles at me, and if the words were in his vocabulary, his look would say ‘Bring it on.’

I know Orion can use his werecall on me if he wants to, but I’m getting the feeling that if we want to have any hope of leaving here he has to play fair.

I don’t, though.

While he’s pulling down the tattered remains of my waistband over my butt — a time-consuming task even for him — I reach for his cock hidden underneath his jeans. He’s so stiff and large I don’t have to go far. I get three pull-tabs down his zipper before his fingers slip underneath the elastic band of my underwear. I get another three before he plunges a finger inside of me, gliding in easily with my wetness.

My whole body bends with pleasure. He twists his finger in a half circle and I am blank. I am nothing.

“I’m going to see you come, Artemis.” He bares his canines with primal promise.

My wet lips part and my breath hitches with his every thrust. I toss my head back, my hair splaying in a golden wave around me, my eyes closed, my brows furrowed as if I can condense all this sensation into a single point.

He pushes two fingers through my folds, slamming against me as his thumb rubs short strokes over my clitoris. “Look at me!” For the first time since I kissed him, the full force of his power pushes through his order.

My eyes open and meet his. They’re so blue they scald my soul.

“Good girl. Feel it, let it take you,” he whispers, his voice falling into a hypnotic cadence.

I clench around his fingers, little earthquakes fracturing through me. I’m already on the edge. I’ve been on the edge since I first saw him in my dream only a day ago. Breath fails me as I wait for him to plunge me down over it.

“Are you ready, Little Mate?” His breath is coming fast now, too.

All I can do is give a tiny nod.

Slowly he draws his fingers back, expanding the space between us as he goes until he’s spreading me open. “Good.”

“Ahh!”

My muscles twitch, but still I’m not coming. I am beyond my own body. He has captured it. He decides when I come. This thought sends a fresh wave of pleasure through me, and I spasm again. “Oh, God.”

His fingernail traces around my outer lips, ignoring my throbbing clit to explore the topography of my body instead. Then his other hand retreats, and I watch as he manages to pull down his own jeans with one hand. As I suspected, he’s not wearing boxers.

His cock pops free, but I can’t get too close a look, because he’s starting up that rhythm with his fingers again. Through my half-open eyes I watch him watching me. He regards me with dark fascination, as if I’m an ant under his magnifying glass and he’s enjoying burning me alive.

But I’m enjoying it more.

He adds a third finger and pierces me, so deep. God, he’s splitting me open now. What will happen when he uses his cock? He’s going to soon, because on the final thrust his fingers withdraw.