“Hey, that’s a start.” He shrugged when she looked frustrated.
She gave a small smile, probably all she could muster, but it was enough to move that thick knot of anger that sat in his chest. For the second time, she had affected his rage.
“You think you can communicate well enough to try and strategize with me?” he asked, and she blinked once, filling him with hope.
Yes. He had been tracking Hexxa, and thanks to his wolf powers, he knew he was tracking her correctly and would eventually find her. But once he found her, what the hell was he supposed to do with her?
“Can the knife I carry kill Hexxa?” he asked, and she met him with sad eyes before slowly blinking twice.
“Okay, so this is only good for less powerful witches,” he muttered, and she blinked once to agree.
“Can the two of us together defeat her?” He thought he already knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway.
Just as he suspected, two blinks.
“We will need your entire family to do it?” he asked and was shocked when she blinked twice. He thought for sure that the power of her, her sisters, and probably her mother would be enough to defeat her.
“We need your family and something more? Some magic item that I’ll never be able to guess and you won’t be able to tell me about until you can speak again?” she blinked once in response.
“Talk about embracing the suck right?” He laughed. “I guess I should have known. All you witches are so extra.”
She shot him a look that said she agreed with him, but she wasn’t gonna let him talk about them without getting some backlash.
“Okay, so, the plan is to find her and hope your sisters are able to track you and meet us there. Then, once we’re all together, we’re going to fight her and her evil cult and damage her enough that she’ll have to back off and regroup… which, hopefully, will be enough to completely break this curse on you?” He did his best to put it all together and was rewarded with one blink. “Then, when she retreats and is licking her wounds, we all go off and find this magic whatever, somehow find her again, and this time, we defeat her for good?”
One blink.
He nodded his head. He would have to play the long game on this one, much longer than he wanted to play, but in the end, he would get what he needed. So he wasn’t going to piss and moan about it.
“I guess I should get used to being around witches then.” He sighed, looking up, and she rolled her eyes again.
“Why do I get the feeling you think I’m a drama queen?” He looked down at her and saw her give a big, over exaggerated one blink.
“Okay, well, have you ever been tortured? Have you ever been kept as a sex slave? Raped and possessed and tortured so that some demon worshipping cult bitch could get pregnant and have a demon baby?” He glared down at her. “Cut me some fucking slack, lady. It’s not like I’m complaining about my tax returns being late.”
A long angry pause sizzled between them as they glared at each other. He knew if she was able to speak, they would probably be having a full on argument at this point.
“You… lived…” she finally said through slow, labored breaths.
“Yes, I lived,” he snorted. “And what a life to live for. When my family was killed, I spent my entire life, chasing after the occult and the supernatural, feeling so sure that someone or something out there could bring me closer to them. Then, I find a group of witches who promise me they can use their magic to allow me to see my family on the other side, to communicate with them, and I feel a joy and hope I had never allowed myself to feel. I completely abandoned my human life, even fleeing the military. I gave up everything to race towards this magic happiness they promised me, and guess what? It’s all a bullshit trap. I would take the torture and pain a hundred times over again to never have to feel that hope being ripped away from me again. But yeah, I lived, so I guess I should be happy and thankful. Buy myself a live, laugh, love t-shirt and go get a tattoo of a butterfly or some bullshit.”
He couldn’t look at her anymore. He put her down, still wrapped in the blanket, onto the hillside and walked away, needing to clear his head.
For hours he walked around the woods in a rage. She didn’t understand him, his life or his pain. He didn’t owe anyone gratitude for being alive. If he had had a choice, he happily would have died in the car crash that killed the rest of his family, but instead, here he was, struggling with a loneliness and emptiness that only someone who had gone through the same loss could understand.
He didn’t need her pity, her understanding, or even her respect. He needed her to show him how to kill this bitch, and then he needed to get as far away from her and all the other supernatural creatures as he could.
~
Blair had been furious when he had left her on the hillside. She had already almost been kidnapped once today, and now she was exposed to the elements and just lying there like a sitting duck.
She wanted to hex his dick off his fucking body.
As time went on and her anger ebbed, she slowly forgave him and began to understand his need to get away from her. If her sisters had been killed and left her behind, she could never be happy again. Then, on top of that, to be kidnapped, raped, and tortured?
Yeah. She got it. Telling him at least he was still alive was a pretty douche bag thing to do. And to top it off, she couldn’t even apologize for it. Great.
The sun sank lower and lower in the sky, and she shivered hard. She felt like an asshole and was also starting to worry about him. After seeing him rip apart those two demons, she knew she didn’t really need to worry about him. He could probably take down a bear with no problem, but still the feeling snaked its way into her heart.
Worried about the big, muscled, scarred man who had been carrying her next to his heart for days. Who had ever so gently fed her from an eye dropper like she was a baby animal.
A flutter she did not want to acknowledge made its way through her heart.
Oh, no, she moaned to herself. Do not fall in love with this guy. Anybody but this guy, he’s beyond a fixer upper, girl. He’s a full on basket case. Anyone but this asshole.
Watching him walk his way back to her, however, steam coming from his hot breath reaching the chilly air as he prowled his way up the hill, she knew she didn’t stand a chance. All she could see was his shirtless body back at the hotel and his rage filled gold eyes as he ripped apart those demons.
An involuntary shiver ran up her spine.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have left you in the cold,” he gruffed, misunderstanding her shiver. He dropped his big body down next to her and pulled her against him.
Immediately, warmth filled her, and she knew her own hot breath was beating against his skin. Did she have the same effect on him? Could she ever make him shiver from thinking about her?
Certainly not with her body broken like this. The best she could hope for was that he didn’t tell her to fuck off and die and leave her stranded out here for good.
She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh.
He looked down at her but didn’t say anything. He was probably still pissed off, and she really couldn’t blame him. They were in a pretty fucked up situation with no real way to communicate or express anything.
For two days, they didn’t say a word to each other though she now had fully gained back the ability to speak.
Once every morning, he would get up and head to the store, bring back things to get her healthy and slowly and silently feed them to her.
Finally, once they were staying in a motor lodge, far off the road they had been taking, she could no longer stand the silence.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice chipped and cracked through the small sentence, but she had to say it.
“Don’t be. You didn’t know,” he replied, not meeting her eyes. “I don’t need sorries or sympathy. I’m not a weak person. I just don’t need someone telling me to be grateful for something they don’t know anything about. I don’t know anything abou
t you, and you don’t know anything about me, so let’s not pretend to be friends or act like we care about each other.”
“Let’s not pretend then. Let’s be friends,” she cut him off, and he jerked his eyes to her face.
“What do you mean?” He stared at her, his eyes narrowed.
“I mean, tell me about yourself, and let me tell you about myself, and then we can care about each other in earnest,” she answered, giving him a sincere look so he would know she wasn’t bullshitting.
“You don’t have to care about me. I don’t need that,” he replied, kicking his boots off.
“I didn’t say you needed it. I said let’s do it,” she said stubbornly. She knew she shouldn’t try to get to know him, that she shouldn’t encourage her own feelings for him, that he wouldn’t return them and she would just end up hurt over this whole experience. But there was nothing she could do about it. Apparently, she couldn’t stop herself from being an idiot.
“Okay, what do you wanna know?” He sat down on the bed next to where she was propped against the head board.
“What were you so desperate to tell your parents?” she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.
“Hard fucking pass with that one. You couldn’t have started off with my favorite color or something normal? You had to go right for the emotional jugular?” He looked at her as if she had lost her damn mind.
“That’s my style. Emotional murderer.” She smiled sweetly at him.
“Well, not today it isn’t. Ask something I might actually answer.” He drew the line in the sand, and though she desperately wanted to cross over it, she respected it.
“Fine. Asshole,” she added. She would respect it, but she didn’t have to like it.
For the rest of the night, the two of them sat in a comfortable companionship, swapping childhood stories, memories, laughter, and even to his great hesitation, a few deep and emotional things.
Blair knew it would happen if she continued on her path, but as the sun came up, she felt like it was confirmed: she was experiencing feelings for him. Feelings-feelings. The kind of feelings that made people do really stupid things for each other and make even more horrible decisions.
She wanted to hold his hand and pull him close to her. She wanted to feel his strong hands against her body, more than him just simply carrying her around. She wanted him to slide them over her, to caress her soft skin. To touch her roughly and make her needy until she was panting beneath his touch.
“Whatchu thinking about? You’re all far away,” he asked, his confused face swimming into her vision.
“A shower,” she replied, a smile slowly crossing her features. “I would do anything for a bath or a shower. I just want to feel clean.”
She was absolutely lying out of her ass. She didn’t want to be clean. She wanted to be as dirty as possible with him, but a shower was the first thing she could think of that could get her naked in front of him. Once she was naked, she could make a pass at him, and he would have a hard time turning her down.
Blair was very confident in her womanly charms and the effect they would have on him.
“You want me to give you a bath?” he asked, and she couldn’t tell by the tone of his voice whether he was interested in doing so or was annoyed by the question.
“Yes.” She breathed heavier than she wanted to when she answered, giving away her desires.
Terrance looked her up and down, and she knew he was piecing together what she was asking of him.
He didn’t answer her, just looked over and slid his strong hand from her collarbone up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her lips.
Another involuntary shiver ran up her spine, and he didn’t mistake it this time. Now, he knew exactly what she wanted.
Leaning down, he kissed her hard. So hard he stole her breath, and she struggled to keep up with it.
She could feel his pent up strength, his ferocity that he kept caged from her because she was in such a vulnerable position. And she knew that if he wanted to, he could destroy her. Something about that only made her want him more.
His skin was so dark against hers; she was mesmerized by it, watching the smooth butteriness blanket over her as he prowled like a panther across her body.
“I wish I could touch you,” she whispered before he pushed his thumb into her mouth.
“You can make it up to me later.” His voice was guttural as he spoke, and she shivered again.
“When I’m actually able to move my body, I’m a very generous lover,” she whispered then wrapped her tongue around his thumb, licking it slowly the way she would have his cock.
“Well, you’ll have to let me take the lead this time. But next time, you can be in charge.” He laughed lowly then took her earlobe between his teeth.
Blair wanted to writhe and moan beneath him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and run her hands around the thick cock she could feel pushing against her.
She hated the curse now more than she ever had.
“Tell me if you can feel this.” His hands spread across her breast, massaging them until her nipples were so tight it made her gasp.
“I feel it,” she moaned out.
“Good. You should be able to feel it when I get to your pussy then.” He bit her breast, and she felt it even through her bra.
“Please, get to my pussy,” she whimpered out, unable to stop herself from sounding desperate.
“Let’s get you clean first,” he murmured, and without her being able to grab him back, he disappeared into the bathroom to run warm water.
Blair couldn’t blame him. It had been almost two weeks since she had showered. She couldn’t wait to see how he would bathe her. Would he be a gentle lover? Or would he bend her to whatever position he wanted and take her like a dirty little slut?
God damn, did she hope for the latter.
Once again, he scooped her into his strong arms and, this time, carried her into the bathroom. She could feel the steam from the hot bath the moment she was carried into it.
“I like it hot,” she whispered, and he looked down at her darkly.
“You better.”
He placed her on the counter, her butt dipping into the sink. Her body was still as limp as a ragdoll, but he didn’t seem to mind doing all of the work. In fact, she almost felt like he relished it.
Taking his time with her, he slowly unfastened each button from the dress she had been wearing at the ball. As she stared up at him, he pushed each one through the tiny loophole they sat in. It was almost as though he savored the idea of teasing her… and she was loving every second of it.
“If you had anything else to wear, I would rip this fucking dress off of you right now,” he growled in her ear.
“Fuck it, I’ll wear a towel to fight Hexxa,” she whispered back desperately, but he pulled the two halves of the dress open and pushed it down her shoulders instead.
Her bra and panties, however, he didn’t seem to give a shit about. With strong hands, he ripped them from her body, yanking her forward against him, and all she could do was gasp and giggle.
She had come to New Orleans looking for someone to rock her world. Being paralyzed through the entire thing wasn’t exactly how she had seen it going down in her mind, but to hell with it. She was enjoying every moment of this.
Kissing her deeply, he picked her up one last time and carried her into the bath.
Like she was made of delicate lace, he lowered her softly into the steamy water. The heat of the bath melted her veins, and she loved it. Loved every moment of everything happening to her.
Softly he washed soap over her skin, lathering it between his strong hands. He pressed her flesh firmly as he soaped her legs and arms then further up her body. He gave extra special attention to her breasts, lathering and soaping them over and over again.
She moaned out loud and long, not being able to hold it in. Her nipples were so hard from all his teasing she felt that any moment, they would explode.
&nbs
p; His hand slid down with the washcloth, past her bellybutton, and she felt herself burn as he teased her pussy. Gently, with barely-there touches, he moved the washcloth over her.
Blair had never wanted to be fucked by a washcloth before, but he was working on changing her mind.
Normally, she was an extremely active participant in sex; she loved being dirty. She loved pleasing her man and swallowing all of his… compliments. Tonight however, she was going to just have to take what he gave her and like it.
“I can see how much you’re worrying about this.” He suddenly stopped to stare at her. “Someone once told me I had the blood of a king, and kings love to serve their queens.”
With that, he lifted her up in the tub, placing one leg over the side of the tub and the other around the back of his neck, as he bent forward and began to lick her pussy.
From the moment his hot tongue touched her, she felt her body flood with lust. She wanted to grind her hips against his face to take in every inch of his tongue, but she couldn’t. Helplessly, she had to sit there and let him tease her.
He was slow and meticulous, lapping at her drenched pussy, flicking her clit with his tongue until her sweet moans turned into guttural growls for more.
“What if I just stopped right now?” He blew a slow blast of cool air across her clit, and laughed lowly.
“I would hex your fucking eyebrows off,” she snarled at him. “Now let me cum.”
“Who put you in charge?” He gave her one long, slow, lick. “You’ve got to say the magic word.”
“Please,” she ground out the word, hating to say it. “Fucking PLEASE!”
He didn’t make her beg any longer. He wanted to give her what she asked for.
Dropping his head back down, he set his mouth to work, winding her up until finally, finally, she shattered apart against his tongue.
With hard, heavy breaths, she stared at him, before saying, “I want to do something for you even though I can’t move.”
“There’s nothing you can do. We’ll just call it even until your curse is over.” He kissed the side of her knee.
“Jerk off in front of me, and cum in my mouth,” she commanded.
Wicked Hunt Page 4