Hunted: A Claiming Novella (The Claiming) (3 page)

The attacks didn’t just come at the
mine. The Avas attacked homes of innocent people. They looted their meager
belongings, like the animals they were. Penelope lost her parents in such an
attack. Ryon’s younger sister, Faye, later came to the same fate. They all
shared a common enemy.

The matter between Ryon and Penelope was
a difficult topic. They were both demanding people and neither of them wanted
to cave in and change. Ryon lived his life by leading a charge using his
intelligence to win, instead of his brawn.

Penelope was similar, yet different to
him. She used her charming wiles to enamor people. With her dancing she could
bring joy and happiness to those who normally don’t feel it. She created art
with her body through straining poses and leaping movements to music. She told
a story through dancing. The power she felt while dancing made her feel like a
god. It was no wonder why she and Ryon clashed so often—even while they fought
their burning desire for each other.

Such was the crux of their almost
non-existent “relationship.” She might have moved on by now, as a
matter-of-fact, she would have, if she could’ve. That’s the thing. There was no
moving on from Ryon. He was embedded deep her skin. He’d lodged a place inside
her years ago, and like a girl harboring a pathetic crush, she’d been unable to
rid herself of the
General’s Affliction
as she liked to call it.

Aptly named, she thought. For he
was
an
affliction. An affliction on the senses, on the mind, and on her heart—which he
tested the hardest.

Because of her uncertain, volatile
feelings for Ryon, Penelope had kept him at arm’s length. Whether he liked it
or not—he clearly loathed it. She saw it in his angry eyes, in the narrowing of
his pitch black eyebrows, in the disappointed frown that dented his full mouth.

There were certain “things” Penelope had
never dared attempt with Ryon. Everyone knew who he was and what he did. This
made things between them ever more complicated. The man threw her world into
disarray every moment he entered the room with her. And while she loved having
fun, she did not like the kind of trouble that Ryon brought. That trouble being
one of desire. Whenever he was near, she felt the most irresistible urge to
touch him, even kiss him.

Dangerous thoughts for such a dangerous
man.

At the thought, her gaze dipped to his
mouth, then caroused over his flexing arms where muscles rounded and bulged in
pleasing ways. She nearly sighed at his strength. Something so purely physical
and it made her feel giddy as a schoolgirl.

Her gaze continued over his torso down
to his tapered hard hips. She licked her lips as warmth gathered in her body.
Hulking and strong, he was big, making her feel so much smaller by comparison. His
bottom lip was slightly puffier than the top which formed two perfect mountain
peaks.

A lump formed in her throat somewhere
around the time he grabbed her nipple like he owned it. There could be no
kissing of the general. Even if his mouth was a sight for sore eyes. Last time
she’d kissed him, she’d barely managed to get away with her senses intact, let
alone her heart.

She couldn’t go through that pain again.
It still hurt. And that night transpired two years ago. Here in this very same
spot. Of course he would bring her here. To
their
spot.

Ryon wrapped his hand around the nape of
her neck and gently tilted her chin up. Their eyes met and locked. He had dark
brown eyes like wet mud—and they saw through her—scaring her far worse than any
Ava ever could.

He was large and virile, tougher than a
bull. All things she wasn’t, but craved in a man. Those deft hands covering her
body could hurt her in an instant, could steal the life from her body, or crush
her heart into a million pieces. The last he’d already proven he could do with
a few choice words.

He may be strong and all-powerful, but
she wasn’t. Her strengths were limited and she knew where they lie—and relished
in them, as a matter of course. But she didn’t have the power to deal with Ryon
every day. He was dictating. He’d crush her spirit whether he meant to or not.
He couldn’t even deal with her profession. On more than one occasion he’d asked
her to consider other work because he didn’t like the way men ogled her. When
she’d tried to explain that they were
supposed
to watch her, he’d shaken
his head in disapproval.

That happened years ago. And here they
stood today, still fighting the same battles.

 She’d played the different
possible scenarios in her head too many times to count, and each time it came
out with a bad ending for her. And so, she stayed away from the tempting
general as much as she could. When she didn’t see him for days on end, she
found herself laying up at night in bed thinking about him, wondering what he
was doing, wishing he was there next to her.

Yes, she had it bad for him.

But she couldn’t bring herself to be
with him.

Penelope recognized, thanks in part to
her sisters’ constructive support, that she was too strong for Ryon. She and
Ryon were both demanding and strong-willed and too stubborn to back down. It
would never work between them. Still, he did possibly have a few qualities she
liked very, very much. Which made him all the more dangerous to her heart.
General Ryon Amadeus Ward had a special, albeit strange, place in Penelope’s
heart. But that’s exactly where he needed to stay.

Ryon dipped his head low. The close
proximity snapped Penelope back to reality. She froze as his mouth neared,
waiting on bated breath.

Agony. Their soft breaths collided and
mixed, his moist breath wickedly close. Every muscle in her body pulled tight
in anticipation for what was to come. A kiss. Would he really dare to try after
two, long years? And would she let him?

Ryon closed the final inches separating
them, giving her all the time in the world to move away. Her stomach was a
jumble of nerves. She still had yet to decide what she was going to do if he
actually tried to kiss her.

Then it came. Warm lips grazed the
corner of her mouth. He turned a touch into it, smearing his lips across her, a
brush of heat that was there, then gone so quickly she might have imagined it.

“Say my name.” He spoke in a harsh
voice.

This game between them had never gone
this far before. To give in to him would be to lose. She had too much at stake
to risk.

“Say my name,” he repeated much slower
and with more force than before.

Her legs trembled. “General.”

This was her
other
problem with
Ryon. With the simplest of touches he had her panting and ready to submit.
Liquid heat pooled between her legs as tensions grew. She wouldn’t live her
life under the thumb of a dominant man. Not like her mother had. If Penelope
did one thing right in her life it was this. She could not be with Ryon. He
didn’t know how to give an inch, let alone give her the kind of freedom she needed
to thrive.

There was a ruthless tug on her nipple.
She couldn’t fight a moan as pleasure warmed her skin.

He was winning. Slowly she was slipping
under the spell of his seductive touch. He kneaded her breast while he held her
close, lips strikingly close. If only they swayed together they would be
dancing.

She had to even the odds.

With a sudden turn, she spun and planted
her arse against his groin.

They both gasped.

His hands latched onto her hips as he
thrust forward once, hard. His cock was a thick shaft pulsing against her. He
was so large—her sex dripped at the thought of him sliding deep inside her.

Ryon grunted in response before his arms
closed in around her. He touched her everywhere, hands sweeping up to capture
her breasts and pull at her nipples, before sliding down past her hips then up
her spine. Again and again he repeated the torture, his touch burning pathways
across her heated flesh.

Her mind turned foggy with haze.
Pleasure overwhelmed her body bringing out the animal inside her. She wanted so
badly for his hand to slip between her legs and touch the moist folds of her
sex. A part of her that only she touched. Ever since their shared kiss two
years ago, she’d not let another touch man touch her. She couldn’t bear the
thought of any man touching her—any man but Ryon.

Must take control, she reminded herself.

Her arse pumped against his cock,
working him. The thrill of tempting him and knowing she was driving him out of
control was the headiest sensation.

“Are you really going to fight to claim
me?” The question she thought had been buried in her psyche suddenly came out.

Ryon kissed her neck sending a cascade
of shivers down her spine. Then he opened his mouth further and the sharp press
of his teeth prodded her neck. Whoever won the claiming would not only mate
with the chosen female, but keep her forever as his own.

“You know I will,” he said confidently,
his voice having gone deep and raspy. “No one can stop me.”

No doubts in his mind. No questions. The
loyalty was both humbling and a touch frightening.

“This weeks’ end, we’ll be doing this
without clothes between us, Pen. Just you and me. I’m finally going to taste
all of you.”

Panting, her breaths came out choppy.
Her head fell back against his shoulder, giving him even more room to kiss her
neck and shoulders. “So certain you’ll win?” she countered.

His grabbed her hips in a brutal clasp.
“I
know
it.”

Her sex was worked up and blood rushing
with excitement. His words connected erotic imagery of him claiming her. The
claiming was a rough and wild ride. To do it with Ryon…

“I can’t stand it,” he growled in her
ear. “You’re wet and I can smell it drenching you.” He almost sounded angry at
her. Like he wanted to punish her for arousing him. “I have to touch you. Give
me permission.”

“To do what?” she breathed, no longer
able to keep her eyes open.

One hot hand slid down her stomach over
the sequined costume. The leotard ran tight between her legs. In an instant he
cupped her there—hard and firm, fingers enfolding her sex. Hot spasms twitched
as he caressed her. She teetered on the verge of something searing and
explosive.

“To make you come.”

A single finger trailed over her
sensitive flesh. Even with the barest of pressure, she quivered in need. What
would it feel like to have skin on skin contact? Maybe she’d combust and the
whole kingdom would hear her cries.

“I’ll make you come right here, right
now, Pen. Just allow me…” he said, his deep voice hypnotic. “Tell me yes, that
you want me.”

That’s it. Just tell him she wanted him.
Oh, how simple he made it sound. To admit so, would be to accept his dominance,
to relinquish control and give into submission.

The idea tantalized her wicked
sensibilities, but her reservations kept her in check. His touch scraped over
her sensitive bud of nerves between her legs again making her hips jerk. She
needed more than that little scrape. Though not much more. 

“I’m going to claim you one way or
another, Pen.” His voice dropped even deeper, speaking soft and low into her
ear. “I’m going to slide my cock right inside you here, where you’re juicy and
wet for me.” With that bold statement he cupped her firmly over the costume.

A mewl tore from her throat, eyes
rolling to the back of her head. “Ryon!”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “What did
you say?”

Her throat was so dry she couldn’t
repeat it again, could only arch into his hand. That was the final straw for
him.

With a growl, Ryon deftly slipped his
fingers inside her costume and cupped her sex. Skin to skin.

“So wet,” he said, sounding delirious
and not at all like himself.

He claimed her mouth in a wild kiss. His
tongue sliding deep, she tasted him and all his erotic heat. She matched him
beat for beat while his fingers danced between her legs, plucking and petting
her sex. He circled her sensitive bud, the touch scattering and feather-light
before pressing near her entrance. He broke apart to growl against her lips,
“I’m going to be buried deep inside you.
Soon
. I don’t want to wait.”

His bold statement was punctuated by a
feverish kiss as he circled her bud again. Penelope stood on her toes and swung
her arms over Ryon’s neck to hold on for dear life. She felt completely
exposed; his touch was so simple; it shouldn’t excite her so much, yet it did.

“I want you to say my name when you
come.”

In her mind she refused to agree. No way
would she give him the satisfaction.
If
he could even make her come.

But then his touch grew intent and with
his hard cock a reminder at her backside—Penelope came apart, ripped asunder.

Her husky cries called out into the dark
night. Her core exploded at the pinnacle; the power of the peak took her by
surprise, sweeping brusquely through her in undulating waves.
Hot, wet bursts released inside her energy passing through her at his
commanding touch.