Hunter's Need (23 page)

She moaned and rolled her ass back against him and Duke swore. “Don’t. Ana, fuck . . . please don’t move. Not yet . . . ”

She gave him a teasing smile over her shoulder and did it again. Duke snarled and banded his arm around her hips, locking her against him. “I’m about to crack, princess. You’re driving me insane . . . fuck, you’re so soft . . . so wet . . . just gimme a minute.”

“Uh-uh.” She didn’t want to give him a minute, he realized. Not even five seconds. She might not be able to move her hips or wiggle that sexy ass of hers, but she could damn well tease him in other ways. Painfully erotic ways—like clenching down around his cock, her silken, slick pussy tight as a fist around him. Then releasing, then tightening, a maddening rhythm that had him snarling in desperation.

Letting go of the mattress, he put one hand in front of her and flexed it, baring the nails that had yet to shift back to normal. “You’re pushing me, Ana. I’m about to break,” he rasped against her ear. He dipped his head and raked his teeth down her neck. Then he clenched his hands into fists, clenched his jaw closed and willed the beast inside him to recede, to pull back, give him some measure of sanity back.

But Ana just milked him again, reaching down and trailing her fingertips along his thigh. Swearing, Duke grabbed her hands and shifted, taking her down to the floor. He crushed her flat against the hardwood and used his knees to spread her thighs wider. Capturing her wrists, he jerked them high overhead and then he growled, “Are you trying to push me over the edge?”

“Yes . . . ” She pushed back with her ass.

He stilled—even as the beast inside him screamed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

She clenched down on him, once, twice, a third time and Duke gritted his teeth, tried to battle down the need. “Fuck . . . you better be sure . . . ” Control withered, frayed, snapped and he shoved backward onto his knees, bringing her with him. Gripping her hips, he held her steady and then drove deep, hard, fast. He held nothing back, fucking his dick inside that tight, wet pussy.

Ana cried out his name, arched her back and came. Duke rode her harder. Took her deeper. Canting her hips higher, he changed the angle so that the head of his cock rubbed against her G-spot. He watched, staring down at their bodies, her hips, that perfect, heart-shaped ass lifted for him. Hunger burned, ate at him. He licked his thumb and then pressed it to the tight pucker of her ass.

She tensed. He pushed.

She shuddered and tried to pull away, but Duke held her steady. “You wanted to see how far you could push me,” he rasped. “Now it’s my turn . . . I’m going to push you. And push . . . push . . . ”

Her slender body trembled and bucked, her spine bowing up as he continued to push. Hot and snug, the walls of her ass closed around his thumb. He pushed onward until he could go no deeper and then he started to ride her again. Slower this time, gentle. She was tighter now, but still so fucking wet, so hot.

The scent of her hunger wrapped around him and he sucked in desperate draughts of air, tried to breathe past it, tried to think past it.

With her flaming face pressed against the smooth wooden floor, Ana whimpered and trembled. She was afraid to move, afraid to even breathe too deeply although she desperately needed air. Desperately needed to move. Inside her sex, his cock throbbed and jerked. He settled into a slow, easy rhythm, stroking her deeply, completely. But too damned slow—she wanted more, wanted fast, wanted hard.

But the newer invasion kept her from pushing back. It was new, unexpected—something she’d read about, but nothing she’d ever done. It was almost too much. Too damned tight. Too damned intimate. He moved his thumb and she moaned, tried to pull away.

Duke slid his hand around and under, raked his nails across her clit. “It’s my turn now,” he muttered, using his body to control hers, keeping her from pulling away, keeping from doing much of anything that might relieve the burning, aching pressure building inside her.

He moved his thumb again, falling into a tandem rhythm. His cock stroked in, his thumb stroked out. Her breath locked inside her chest. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe—then he raked his nails over her clit a second time. Third time.

The fourth time had her coming.

The fifth time had her moving, rocking forward to meet the teasing strokes of his fingers, then back, riding his cock and his thumb, taking both penetrations as deeply as she could. A harsh growl escaped him and he went faster, rode her harder. She met each stroke, reached back and gripped one muscled thigh, crying out his name.

Heat, need, hunger, yearning . . . they swamped her, and as she came one more time, she pressed her mouth against her forearm, muffling her cry . . . muffling the words she couldn’t say to him.

 

 

 

 

“W
HY are we here again?”

Ana climbed out of the car and looked across the roof at Duke. Blood rushed to her cheeks. She just barely managed not to nibble on her thumbnail as he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on top of the rental car. He’d paid for it—he’d insisted and she’d let him have his way.

She’d already put the call in to the B and B where she’d stayed the week before and paid for the room with her debit card. She’d briefly considered staying at a hotel, since they might be here for more than a few days. She’d bypassed the idea, though. Hotels might be cheaper but they were too crowded. Too much pressing in on her. B and Bs were just so much easier for her and right now, stressed as she was, easy was good.

“Ana?”

She huffed out a breath and said, “I’ve already told you . . . I’m not exactly sure why we are here. I came here last weekend and did some tromping around through the woods.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. A girl disappeared from here ten years ago—she looked a lot like Marie. She was found off one of the trails by some hikers a few weeks after she’d disappeared—or rather, by their dog. She’d been buried, but not deep enough.”

He pushed off the car and studied the area around the house. “Ana, I haven’t really taken much time to do the tourist bit, but I get the feeling there are an awful lot of trails in this state.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered with a grimace. She’d spent plenty of time doing the tourist bit, as he called it. She’d spent a great deal of time exploring in the year she’d been in Alaska and she hadn’t even touched the tip of the iceberg. She mustered up a charming grin and said, “I’m kind of hoping that you could maybe act as a bloodhound.”

He snorted. “Wrong animal, princess. I don’t go bowwow or bay at the moon.”

“But you can track by scent. More . . . well, you might pick up on something.”

“Something you didn’t pick up on?”

“I don’t have that internal homing beacon that you’ve got, Duke,” she said, shaking her head. Against her will, she found herself staring out at the sprawling mountain vista just behind the B and B. It was a beautiful view. But something about it sent shivers running down her spine. There was something out there.

She didn’t know what. But she could feel it.

“Hey . . . ”

She jumped, unaware that Duke had pushed away from the car and come up behind her. His hands landed on her shoulders and he dipped his head, brushing his lips against her cheek. “Easy, princess.”

Grimacing, Ana said, “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

She nodded toward the mountains. “There’s something there. I felt it the first time I was here. That’s what called me. That’s what’s still calling me.”

Duke fell silent, gazing off into the mountains, his gray eyes unreadable. “I don’t really feel anything . . . but I’m not psychic.”

Ana shivered. His arms went around her waist and she covered them with her own. His fingers twined with hers and for some reason, that simple gesture had a knot of emotion settling in her throat.

“I’m kind of wishing I really wasn’t psychic, either.” She made a face and muttered, “Of course, that’s not unusual for me.”

He nuzzled her neck. “Don’t wish you were different than what you are, Ana.”

“If it wasn’t for me, Cat probably never would have gotten to you. She never would have found me or Brad. Your life would have been easier if I had just been completely and utterly normal,” she said, sighing. “Your life. Mine. Brad’s.”

“If you were completely and utterly normal, my life would have been lacking something very important. If Cat was the price I had to pay for that, so be it.” He rested his chin atop of her head, unaware of the look skittering across her face. “Besides, what in the hell is completely and utterly normal?”

In a lighthearted tone she didn’t really feel, Ana said, “Normal—that means no psychic skill, no getting furry, no hiding away while the sun is up.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“The fun would be in being normal,” she said, melancholy. “In not hiding.” She was so damned tired of hiding. So tired of keeping to herself just because it was easier to not be around others. It ended up leaving her life rather empty and very alone.

She disengaged herself from his arms and grabbed her tote from the floorboard. “Come on. The people who own the house told me they’d probably be gone when we got here but they were leaving my room unlocked.”

“Now that sounds safe,” Duke drawled, shaking his head.

“Welcome to small-town Alaska.” She shot him an amused glance over her shoulder and slung the tote over her arm.

The owners were out, the private entrance to their room was unlocked and there was the scent of something sinfully sweet in the air. On the table was a big platter of chocolate chip cookies, as well as some maps, some tourist books and a handwritten note. Ana recognized the handwriting from her previous stay and just skimmed over the note before grabbing a cookie. Duke was already on his second.

She demolished half of it before she made the mistake of looking out the big picture window. Her appetite promptly vanished. Halfheartedly, she nibbled at the rest of the cookie as she stared out at the mountains. Duke came up to stand behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. Ana relaxed back against him and smiled when he rubbed his cheek against hers. “Something in those mountains really has you spooked, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Although she wasn’t entirely sure
spooked
was the right word. She wasn’t exactly afraid—it was more like resigned dread.

“Any idea what?”

She took a deep breath. “I think he’s hiding them out there.”

 

 

I
DON’T
like this
. Duke hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and stared into the trees. It was early, not even seven, although the sun was already high in the sky. It didn’t penetrate very far down into the canopy, though. The air was dark, ripe with the scents of forest, game, life—and death.

He could smell it. It lay on the back of his tongue, foul and bitter.

New death.

Old death.

Blood.

Something ominous weighed down on him. Everything about this place said,
Go away
. The message came through pretty loud and clear. As pretty as the area was, they hadn’t seen a single tourist, not even a couple of bikers on the drive out here. Even mortals with absolutely lousy instincts would probably feel the need to get very, very far away from here.

But aside from the death he could scent, he wasn’t picking up a whole hell of a lot. The internal voice that had guided him as a Hunter was utterly silent, and if it wasn’t for the physical signs that he couldn’t ignore—the stink of death—Duke doubted he’d hang around long enough to do any exploring. He wanted to get out of there that bad.

It felt wrong.

It felt false.

It bore a weird similarity to something that had happened to him years earlier, back when he first met Ana. The area where he’d been on patrol with Kendall, the vampire that had trained him, had been a void—a lot like this.

It had been there that he met Ana, and once he laid eyes on her, the desire to get the hell out of dodge was replaced with a different one—
her
. Ana, picking him up in that bar—they’d left together and he’d been too focused on his dick, too focused on getting inside that hot little body and having another taste of that mouth.

Ana had screwed his head to hell and back, to the point that having her damn near obliterated all other impulses. Still, when he’d been with her, he hadn’t felt this oppressive weight in the air—just a weird emptiness. Then Cat had shown up and his instincts kicked back up—that insistent whisper that spoke of trouble, evil, ugliness and malice.

The warning had come too late—Ana had served the exact purpose that Cat hoped, blocking out the presence of paranormal activity. It left Duke vulnerable and unprepared and could have left him dead.

The skin along his spine crawled and to his disgust, he realized his hands were wet, clammy from a cold sweat. A series of memories, one fucking horrifying image after another rolled through his brain. Chained with silver, starved, beaten. A knife cutting into his flesh while the woman laughed. She’d watched him as she licked the blood from his body. Watched him with lust in her eyes—lust for his body, lust for his blood.

Cat had been one crazy-assed bitch. But she was dead now. Dead. She couldn’t hurt anybody again, and he’d sooner slit his wrists with one of those silver blades than let himself be that helpless again. Forcing thoughts of psycho bitch out of his head, he focused on the forest again and tried to pinpoint where it was coming from.

Tried to figure out what
it
was.

“Duke?”

He swiped his hands down his jeans as Ana came to stand beside him. “You feel it?”

“Feel what?”

He shook his head. “I can’t quite describe it. It’s like there’s some invisible shield around this place, something that doesn’t want us in there.”