SeducingtheHuntress (3 page)

Just like its owner.

Her belly gurgled. A welcome distraction. And suddenly she
was ravenous. Using the ladle inside the pot, she took a big mouthful, then
another and another. She was scraping the bottom when the door swung open and a
cold wind hit hard.

Reuben Ishman took a moment to take in the scene. The slight
figure of the beautiful woman in his too-big shirt, her short blonde hair
disheveled and the now-empty ladle clutched in her hand, was one that tugged at
something deep inside.

How fortunate for the man who would have this woman to come
home to every day. A shame that that life could never be his, at least not long
term. He had a kingdom to return to and eventually rule. And he had no doubt
she’d sooner spit in his face than become his mistress.

He toed his muddy footwear off at the doorway before
resettling the doe across his shoulders, its weight suddenly heavy.

He’d been given the freedom he’d requested from his royal
parents—King Mahaya and Queen Mira—and his advisors, with the proviso he’d
return within the year. He stifled a weary sigh. Right then his future loomed
as though a death sentence he couldn’t ever escape from.

For as long as he could remember he’d dreamed of the wild,
open spaces, where no walls hemmed him in and where he wasn’t responsible for
anybody or anything. The trouble was, now that he’d finally experienced such
amazing liberties firsthand, he wanted to savor it all the more.

With this woman by my side
.

His heart thudded double time at the sudden revelation. He
quashed the idea. Three days was all he had left. A little under seventy-two
hours to make the most of the short time with his beautiful captive.

He shook his head as if to clear it. It didn’t help. He
wanted with a quiet desperation the one other thing he could never have. The
wild and unconsciously wanton woman would never accept him as a
nightmix
,
even less as a king.

He recognized in her the same joy for freedom he possessed. His
chest tightened. He wouldn’t be responsible for suffocating this woman’s
spirit. She’d be hemmed in by the walls and constant pressures of his kingdom.

Just the same as me.

The beautiful jade stare of the woman in question eyed him
warily. Digging her teeth into her bottom lip, she lifted a self-conscious hand
before dropping it back to her side. “You’re back.”

He stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him. “Sorry
to disappoint you.” He nodded toward the empty ladle and pot. “But seems I’m
just in time to refill my larder.”

Her cheeks splotching with red, she dropped the ladle into
the empty pot. “I ah…I wasn’t disappointed. I was just hungry.”

He paused for the briefest moment. Had they just made
progress? Had her time alone caused her to realize he wasn’t the killer she’d
imagined? Goddess above. Could he even hope she’d missed him, just a little
bit?

She cleared her throat. “And I don’t know this part of the
forest. I was worried you’d left me here alone.”

Disappointment clutched at his innards. She’d been worried
about her own skin, nothing more. How stupid to imagine for even one second
that a woman could see past his damn hereditary flaw to the goodness he had in
spades beneath. His voice cracked with repressed anger. “Never fear, I’m not
ready to give you up just yet.”

She could take that how she damn well liked. Because it
wasn’t a lie. He wouldn’t be letting her go until he had no choice but to
return to the
Zaanean
kingdom.

He pushed aside a sudden prickling of conscience. She’d
tried to hunt him down and kill him. It was only fair he held her captive for a
few more days at least.

He bent and placed the bloodied kill onto the floor. But
when his peripheral vision caught sight of her pressing a hand to her mouth, he
straightened, arching a brow as he explained, “I can’t risk leaving the doe
outside for another predator. Since the royal decree banning the hunting of
panthers, in any shape or form, their numbers have surged around these parts.
They’ve been known to scavenge when pickings are poor.”

Shame that same royal decree hadn’t stopped the
nightmix
dissenters
from hunting him.

He watched her closely while he washed his hands in a bowl
filled with water. She didn’t seem appeased. Why
was
this kill bothering
her? Was it the blood that puddled over the floor? If so it was fortunate
indeed that he’d stayed in his human form and used her bow and arrow to kill
the animal. He’d brought the animal home relatively clean. If he’d hunted in
his
nightmix
form,the deer would have had its throat ripped out
and probably half its innards dragging along the ground.

He dried his hands then ran a palm over the prickling
beginnings of stubble on his chin. The woman was an enigma, her reaction giving
him yet another piece to the puzzle he itched to solve. And just a few days in
which to do so.

Flexing his arms up and back, he drove the kinks out from
between his shoulder blades. He’d carried the deer for hours in the relentless
rain. Not that he was complaining. His body had long ago been conditioned to
the hardships that living solo required. Not even the rigorous training as a
soldier compared to the basics of survival in the wild.

Catching the direction of his captor’s stare, which had
dropped to the junction between his thighs, his thoughts skidded to a halt and
then morphed in a whole new direction. Heat poured through his veins before
surging into his groin, his cock thickening until it throbbed for release.

She gasped, then looked up and caught his stare. With his
wet clothes sticking to him, she was obviously more than aware of his body’s
needs, more than able to read the intent in his eyes. Heat flamed her face
before her mortified eyes slid away.

His chest constricted. Breath locked in his throat, right
along with anger. But what had he expected other than her shame at being caught
ogling him?

His inner beast stirred. He swallowed hard, fighting back a
bleak wave of emotion. Damn it, had he become unhinged? Despite a
nightmix
’
s
black coat and even blacker reputation, he’d never once succumbed to his
so-called inner darkness. Not even a hint of fury had threatened his peace of
mind.

Two good parents evidently didn’t make for a bad child.

Only now he wasn’t so sure.

“You can’t have it both ways,” he growled. “You can’t want
to kill me and yet
want
me at the same time.”

She flushed deeper red. “Perhaps I don’t want to kill you,”
she said softly, almost defiantly.

His whole body tingled with awareness. Dare he live in hope?

He strode forward, the doe forgotten. Everything was
forgotten but the woman before him. He cupped a hand under her chin and dragged
her stare back up to meet his. “What is your name?” he rasped. “I need to know
that much at least before—”

“Before what?” she hissed.

“Don’t deny what we both want.” His thumb scraped the
fullness of her bottom lip and a little sigh escaped as she leaned inexorably
closer. His voice softened. “Your mind might hate me but your body knows
better.”

She looked up. And even in the growing shadows he saw something
raw flash in her stare, lightning behind a thundercloud. “My name is Isabella,”
she said. “And you’re right, I do hate you.”

“But right now you want me even more,” he said in a mocking
drawl. His stomach sank while his cock ached almost beyond bearing.

“Exactly.”

No excuses, no pretending that he’d got it all wrong. Good.
If that was the way she wished to play it, then so be it. He wouldn’t try to
convince her otherwise. If she wanted his body, he’d give it to her. All too
willingly.

“Then touch what you were staring at,” he commanded
hoarsely.

She reached out a tentative hand and his already-engorged
cock jerked and thickened further at her touch. He bit back a moan. Holy fuck,
he was all of two seconds away from throwing her onto the ground and pounding
into her like the savage animal he obviously was. His lips pinched together. At
least such behavior would give her greater motivation to
want
to kill
him again, without the guilt.

All negative thoughts instantly shut down as her glossy lips
parted and she focused on the task at hand—literally. She skimmed her
fingertips over the rock-hard length of his shaft behind his pants, while her
other hand cupped and fondled his swollen balls.

Jesus. His head tilted back. His hips thrust forward then
back again, grinding against her hand as she worked up and down his cock.

Oddly enough it was her restraint that had his inner beast
about ready to come out and growl with pleasure. All the buxom maidens he’d
fucked over the years had never come close to awakening his beast. They’d had
nothing on this slip of a woman. “That’s it, Isabella,” he encouraged thickly.
“Now take off my pants.”

He knew somehow that she wasn’t used to taking orders, but
right then she seemed more than willing to follow his instructions. Hell, she
was even a little excited by it going by her flushed face and rapid breathing.

He’d long ago ditched the traditional
rakkia
robe
that royalty were accustomed to wearing in favor of the rough commoner pants.
It was much easier to lose oneself amongst humans, much less chance of drawing
attention.

His hands clenched and unclenched. Damned if he wasn’t glad
that he’d decided to blend in. There was definitely something to be said about
the feel of the rough material dragging over his thighs, then the touch of
silken, soft feminine hands on his heated flesh as she pushed his pants
downward and bared him to her eyes.

His cock jolted, thick and strong, causing her mouth to drop
wide open as she stared. Satisfaction coursed through him. No woman had ever
had reason to complain about the size of his anatomy, but she took it to a
whole new level of appreciation.

A contortionist would have been impressed at the quick moves
he made with his legs at impossible angles as he kicked off his clinging pants.

“Suck my dick, Bella,” he rasped. “Taste me.”

She didn’t need to be asked twice.

His insides flamed as her hot, moist mouth moved over the
engorged head of his dick. She sucked, her full, soft lips cushioning his shaft
even while her tongue swirled hard across the girth.

He swallowed convulsively. Bella—his Bella—wasn’t just an
amazing horsewoman and skilled with a bow and arrow. She knew how to please a
man too.

A surge of sudden jealousy caused his teeth to grit together
hard. Just how many men had she pleasured before him? Going by her little sighs
of enjoyment, taking a man’s cock in her mouth wasn’t something she shied away
from like many women apparently did.

Her teeth scraped along the veined ridges of his cock. The
exquisite pleasure-pain had his hips bucking forward and his breath coming out
in a hiss. His balls grew perilously heavy.
Oh lord.
If he wasn’t
careful he was going to empty into her mouth. And he didn’t want that yet, not
for their first time together.

Selfish bastard he might be but he wanted her to forget all
her other lovers and remember only him and their time together.

He had to stop her before it was too late.

He placed outspread hands on her head. But instead of
stilling her, he dragged out the wondrous sensation by exerting pressure on her
up-and-down head movements as she suctioned him. Not even half a minute later
he was on the knife edge of no return. “No more,” he growled.

She released him and looked up. Her tongue edged her already
moist lips and his mind went crazy imagining her without his shirt on and with
her breasts uncovered and heavy with need, her nipples pebbling under his
stare.

“My turn now,” he said thickly.

He proffered her a hand and pulled her onto her feet. Not
that he’d ever complain about her being on her knees. He helped her undress,
being extra careful with her pants and the wound he’d spent much time cleaning
and stitching. When she was bared to his eyes his cock twitched, his seed again
threatening to spill. Goddess she was beautiful, exquisite. He bent and lifted
her into his arms. No more time to waste.

In just a couple of strides he was at the bed of cushions
and laying her down. Kneeling between her spread legs, he straddled her thighs
over his shoulders and bared her sweet little cunt with its blonde thatch of
hair to his hungry eyes. His breath stalled. He wanted—needed—to lick the pink
flesh of pussy until she was begging for more.

He could only be glad that the coals that’d once been a fire
gave off enough light in which to see her. He didn’t dare frighten her by
making use of his
nightmix
vision—his red pupils—to see her in detail.
Even with his formidable willpower he didn’t know if he had the strength to
walk away from the woman he wanted to thoroughly fuck.

His nostrils flared at the musky scent of her pussy. A purr
rumbled into life in his chest. He didn’t try to stop the sound. Instead he
parted her labia and bent his head, mouthing her tight little clit and allowing
the vibrations to pleasure her flesh.

She gasped, stiffening. But then she opened herself wider
still, offering herself to him as though a feast set out for a starving man.

Triumph surged right along with lust. She wasn’t so immune
to his big cat after all. It was no small effort to semi-evolve his tongue to
its
nightmix
form until it was the texture of rough bark. He licked
right along her taut bundle of nerves, dragging hard. Over and over until she
was gasping incoherent words, then climaxing with tight little convulsions.

He lapped at her essence, all but purring at the exquisite
taste of her. She shuddered beneath him a couple more times, his oral skills
clearly to her liking.

“Oh my god,” she managed long moments later, her voice
breathy and wondrous. “I had…I had no idea.”

Bells rang in the back of his mind. But he wasn’t afraid to
admit that his brain was functioning in a completely different head right then.
He wanted to fill her cunt with his hard cock. He wanted to pour his seed into
her pussy until she was dripping wet. He wanted to possess her like no one had
possessed her before.