Hunter's Fall (39 page)
Authors: Shiloh Walker
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction
He cupped her neck, pressed a kiss to the soft patch of skin behind one ear. “What doesn’t matter?”
Turning her head, she caught his mouth with hers and said, “Nothing. Not now. Now that you’re here, nothing else matters.” Pulling back, she fisted her hands in the hem of her T-shirt and stripped it anyway.
As his eyes locked on the swell of her breasts, she was hit with a wave of acute self-consciousness. She barely knew this body. Even though she’d spent the past few years living in it, she barely knew it. She rarely looked in the mirror, she never touched herself. Glancing down at the slight curve of her breasts, she couldn’t help but wonder . . . this new body, would it please him?
“Fuck.”
She looked up and her breath lodged in her throat at the look in his eyes. It was burning, so hot, so hungry. He caught her cotton-covered breasts in his hands, plumping them together. Then he dipped his head and pressed his face between them, groaning against her.
His arm, sinewy and strong, came around her waist and hauled her off the counter. Yelping in surprise, she wrapped her legs around his waist, gripping his hips with her thighs. She grabbed his shoulders. Against the sensitive flesh between her thighs, she could feel him.
Pulsating, hard and thick. Shuddering, she lowered her head and pressed her mouth to his neck. “Well, there’s the answer to that question,” she said quietly.
“What question?” He raked his teeth across the top of one breast, the sharp tips of his fangs lightly scoring her flesh. He reached behind her and a few seconds later, her bra fell to the floor.
Nessa groaned and fisted a hand in his hair as he lifted his head. Drawing him back to her, she said, “I was wondering if you would want me . . . this . . . this isn’t exactly my body. I didn’t know if it would please you.”
He lightly bit her nipple. “It is your body, baby. How it came to be that way isn’t the issue, but it’s yours.”
“Isn’t it, though? She was but a child when we fought. I killed her, and now her body is mine.”
Dominic sighed. Staring into her troubled eyes, he lay his hand on her cheek, gently stroked his thumb over her lower lip. “You fought a woman who already had a history of killing people. She was hooked on blood magic, and while I’m not an expert on witches, I’ve heard the deal with that—they get to craving it. They
need
it—need it the same way I need blood. But they only get their fix when they kill. And you know her history—she’d killed. A
lot
. As far as years go, she might have been a kid, but she wasn’t innocent. You know that.”
need
it—need it the same way I need blood. But they only get their fix when they kill. And you know her history—she’d killed. A
lot
. As far as years go, she might have been a kid, but she wasn’t innocent. You know that.”
“Yes.” She covered her hand with his, pressed down gently. “I know that. But perhaps . . . ”
He pressed his thumb to her mouth. “No. No
perhaps
. No
maybe
. We focus on the now . . . on what is. Things turn out the way they do for a reason.”
perhaps
. No
maybe
. We focus on the now . . . on what is. Things turn out the way they do for a reason.”
Dipping his head, he replaced his thumb with his mouth, tracing his tongue along the line of her lower lip, nipping her gently. “You’re here. With me. That is what matters to me. That is
all
that matters to me.”
all
that matters to me.”
Pulling back, he sank to his knees before her, staring up at her. As he reached for the button of her jeans, she sagged back against the counter, resting her weight on her hands. He stripped the jeans away, taking her panties as well. The low boots she wore came off with her jeans and the clothing, the boots went flying, landing against the wall with a muffled thud.
He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her.
Nessa cried out, her fingers curling around the edge of the countertop, clutching it for balance.
Balance—hell, there
was
no balance, she realized as he used his tongue to part her flesh, licking at her like a cat. She might still be standing—mostly—but the room was spinning. The earth was spinning. Her head was spinning. Nothing was solid, nothing was still . . . except him, kneeling at her feet with his dark head between her thighs.
was
no balance, she realized as he used his tongue to part her flesh, licking at her like a cat. She might still be standing—mostly—but the room was spinning. The earth was spinning. Her head was spinning. Nothing was solid, nothing was still . . . except him, kneeling at her feet with his dark head between her thighs.
He teased her clit with his tongue, his teeth. Nessa cried out and whispered, “I’m going to fall.”
Long-fingered elegant hands cupped her ass. Against her flesh, he whispered, “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
I won’t let you fall.
He’d said that to her . . . before. But she couldn’t remember when, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—
I won’t let you fall.
He’d said that to her . . . before. But she couldn’t remember when, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—
He used the tip of his fang to scrape over her clit and she screamed out, her back arched. The orgasm slammed into her, so hard, so fast, so sudden—she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t prepare. Her eyes went dark and she blindly flailed out a hand, smacking it against his shoulder. She caught a hold of him, gripped him, her nails scoring his flesh as the orgasm tore through her.
So strong . . . and over all too soon.
Sobbing for breath, she collapsed against him, sinking down across his thighs in a boneless puddle. He stroked her back, pressed soft little kisses to her shoulder and then eased her off his lap. When he went to pull away, she panicked and reached out, grabbing his wrist. “Don’t . . . You can’t stop touching me, not yet.”
“Shhh . . . I’m just going to start the shower.”
Slowly, she uncurled her fingers from his wrist, let him go. She watched him, every step, even though her lids felt heavy and she was so tired, she could sleep for a week. After he turned the shower on, he stripped out of his jeans. She held out her arms, but he paused by the shower, checked the water. Adjusted it.
Steam was starting to billow out as he knelt beside her and caught her in his arms. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she snuggled against him. “You can’t stop touching me. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
“We might get some weird looks, but I’m good with that idea,” he whispered against her brow. He climbed into the oversized shower stall, shutting the glass door behind him.
The water was warm, gliding over her flesh like silk.
“Can you stand up?”
Looking at him through her lashes, she asked, “Are you going to stop touching me?”
“No. I’m going to wash you.”
“Ahhh . . . then yes, I can stand up.”
But as his soap-slicked hands moved over her body, Nessa wasn’t so sure. Could she stand? Her knees were weak, wobbling and with every glide of his hands, standing became more and more difficult.
There was a metal bar affixed to the wall and she gripped it with her hands, bracing herself. When he went back down to his knees, her stomach clenched. But all he did was soap her legs, strong fingers digging into her muscles, massaging them as he washed her.
He washed her everywhere, from her nape down to her feet. Her feet were treated to the same quick massage as her legs and she curled her toes as he finished. “You’d make a killing as a love slave,” she teased him.
“Love slaves don’t get paid.” He kissed her naval and stood. A grin tugged at one side of his mouth and he asked, “But I’d be your willing slave . . . any day. Any night.”
“Would you really?”
“Hmmm. Mistress, if it is okay with you, I’m going to stop touching you so I can wash up real quick.”
Chuckling, she reached out and snagged the soap from his hand. “No, it’s not okay for you to stop touching me. But I have a solution. I’ll wash you.”
His grin widened, hot and bright, flashing across his face. “Excellent solution.” He held still as she soaped up her hands, but when she touched him, the muscles under his skin jumped.
It was a wonderful way to discover this new body, she decided. He was lean, lanky—bordering on too thin, but those lovely, yummy muscles stretched over his frame. His thick hair was silky black and she couldn’t resist pushing a hand through it, watching as the strands twined around her fingers.
Thick black brows slashed over his eyes. He had high, carved cheekbones and a mouth that was almost too soft, too pretty for a man. She pushed up onto her toes as she slicked her soapy hands over his chest, nibbling at his lower lip. He tasted divine—spicy, male, dark, erotic.
When she pushed her tongue into his mouth, she traced his fangs and smiled inwardly at his shudder.
Settling flat on her feet, she finished washing his torso and then knelt down in front of him to wash his thighs, his calves. When she stroked her fingers over his instep, he jerked and she laughed. “You’re ticklish,” she noted.
As he glared at her, she laid a hand on the inside of his calf, stroking up, up, up . . . until she could cup the sac of his balls in his hand. He groaned and sagged, wide shoulders pressing against the tiled wall at his back. “All clean,” she whispered, leaning in closer. “Everywhere except here.”
She licked the head of his cock and shot him a glance from under her lashes.
He fisted a hand in her damp hair and tugged. “Enough already. Come here.”
“Hmmm . . . no.” Then she licked him again before taking him in her mouth. She took him as deep as she could, until she felt him nudge against the back of her throat. Stroking her tongue against the underside as she pulled back, she took a deep breath and mentally focused. In her mind’s eye, she sought out those muscles as she sank back down, coaxed them into relaxing. This time, when he brushed the back of her throat, she took him deep. Swallowed.
He shouted her name and his hips jerked, spasmed. She did it again, and again. He started to move, thrusting into her mouth, pushing deeper, deeper, and she loved it—loved feeling his frantic movements, loved sensing the deep, mind-bending hunger—
In one abrupt, hard motion he stopped and jerked her back, using his hold on her hair. Nessa shot him a dark look but when she went to take him back in her mouth, he bent down and caught her in his arms, spinning to press her back against the tiled wall.
“Too damn long, witch,” he whispered. “Too damn long . . . when I come, it’s going to be inside
you
.”
you
.”
She touched her tongue to her lip and then shot him a wicked grin. “If you come in my mouth, it
is
inside me.”
is
inside me.”
“Here,” he muttered, slanting his mouth over hers and cupping her in his hand. She shuddered as he pushed one finger inside her sex. “I’m coming
here
, inside this pretty little pussy.”
here
, inside this pretty little pussy.”
Need cramped deep inside her and she cried out, arching against his hand.
“Then do it,” she ordered. “Do it now.”
Their gazes locked and he lifted her, hooked his elbows under her knees. She shivered as his gaze ran over her body, lingering on the exposed flesh between her thighs. “Put me inside you.”
With a hand that shook, she reached down, closed her fingers around his cock. As she pressed the head to her entrance, they both caught their breath—held it. As he pushed inside her, she reached up with her free hand and hooked it over his neck, hauled him close.
As he sank slowly, oh so slowly, inside her, she sighed into his mouth.
At last—
He started to withdraw and she clenched down, trying to keep him inside her. Good—too damn good, she needed him inside, always—
He grunted as she tightened around him. Then he started to rock, slowly at first, but then surging against her, faster, faster. His muscled chest crushed against hers, her breasts pressed flat, her nipples tight and aching.
“I can’t make this last,” he gritted out.
Tipping her head back, she said, “Good . . . because the sooner we’re done, the sooner we can do it again.”
A wolfish grin curled his lips and he dipped his head, nipped at her mouth. “Good logic.”
Inside her, she felt him swell, felt him throb. He shifted, angling his body so that each stroke had him rubbing against the tight, burning knot of her clitoris. Each stroke—
She shrieked, the sound dying away to a breathless gasp. She could feel it, the orgasm rising higher, higher—stretching her body tighter, tighter.
Blindly, she reached up and fisted one hand in his short, dark hair. Jerking his head to her neck, she bared it and said, “Bite me.”
“ No—”
She turned her face to his chest and opened her mouth, catching him just above one tight, flat nipple. Sinking her teeth in, quick and hard, she bit until she tasted blood and then she lifted her head, pressed her mouth to his, knowing even the taste of his own blood would set him to burning.
She needed that—needed to make him burn in every way possible—and she needed him to do the same to her.
He snarled against her lips and tore his mouth away. “Damn it, Nessa.”
“Please.” She arched her head to the side, once more baring her neck. “I need this . . .
we
need it.”
we
need it.”
He shuddered. His eyes flashed—one pulsing red glow—and then he released one of her legs and slid his hand up, tangling his fingers in her hair. He licked her first. His lower body continued to move, his hips rocking, his cock stroking deep inside her. Her lashes fluttered low as he scraped his teeth across her skin. Lightning sizzled through her veins as the tip of one fang broke her skin. He growled, licking up the scant drops of blood.
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