The Hunter’s Game: Blood for Blood: 01

by Fox, Logan

  “Fuck,” I groan, grabbing her shoulders so I can pound her hard enough to illicit a pained moan.

  She throws back her head, and I work hummingbird kisses down her neck as she rides my cock with every buck of her hips.

  I grab an ass cheek in each hand and open her even further, staring down so I can see how I’m fucking her drenched cunt.

  Her hands are on my shoulders, her thighs so wide apart they’re almost forming a straight line.

  I can see every inch of myself disappearing into her.

  “Touch yourself,” I grate.

  She doesn’t even hesitate.

  Her fingers circle her clit with languid indolence. I groan watching her, knowing she’s teasing herself as much as she’s teasing me.

  When I look up, she’s staring at me. As much as I want to keep watching us fuck, her eyes trap mine.

  I slow again, and her jaw juts as she releases a long, staggered sigh.

  “Come with me,” I murmur.

  Her lips tremble, and I feel her fingertips brushing my shaft as she begins working her clit faster than before.

  But I don’t speed up.

  I keep to the same tantalizing pace as before. This way, I feel every inch of her when I slide in, and every inch of her when I ease out. She clamps tight around me as if daring me to slow even more.

  It’s agony.

  Bliss.

  And something more. Something I can’t comprehend.

  Being inside her feels perfect. Her skin touching mine is so familiar, we could have been fucking each other for years, not days.

  I never want this to stop.

  This feeling.

  This closeness.

  This union.

  I want to tell her that. I want to tell her everything.

  But I can’t.

  I made a promise, and promises are something I hold sacred.

  “I’m close,” Clover whispers. “I’m so fucking close.”

  She has such a dirty mouth on her.

  I love it.

  “Hunter.” Concern wreathes her words. Because she doesn’t know how close I am, or because she can see something in my eyes that she’s not sure of?

  Hunter.

  She may think she’s only staying for six months, but she’ll never leave.

  Never.

  “You’re mine,” I murmur, the words straining as I attempt to keep my composure. “I’m never letting you go. You know that, right?”

  Those Bluestar eyes watch me, her lips parted and trembling as she slowly begins to rock against me. Not faster…but harder.

  “What if I run?” she asks, her gaze flickering over my face.

  I lean forward, driving a deliciously tortured moan from Clover. I put my lips against hers, but I don’t kiss her just yet.

  “You run, and I’ll just hunt you down. Every fucking time.”

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  Clover

  I can’t take this anymore. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire. Doused in ice. Prickling with electricity. I can feel the air sliding over my skin. I hear raindrops spattering against Hunter’s glass walls.

  There’s hardly any light left in here, but for once, the shadows don’t look as dark and menacing as they always do. In fact, the low light blurs them, so I can barely tell where they end or begin.

  I can’t be sure just yet, but I don’t think the dark will ever scare me again.

  For one, I know I’m not going to be alone for a while.

  Six months.

  Hunter’s promise echoes in my mind as he fills me with every inch of himself. I’m ready to burst, ready to plunge down that cliff with him.

  But something’s different.

  I thought he was intense before, but it’s like he’s trying to capture my entire essence just by fucking me this slow, this intentionally.

  It’s driving me mad, and setting off chain reactions inside me I’ve never experienced before.

  I’m a fucking snowflake, unique and cherished and everlasting.

  I know—I just fucking know—that if we were to be apart for too long, I’d melt.

  The world is a desert, and he’s my glacier.

  I’ll just hunt you down. Every fucking time.

  My lips quirk at that, and his gaze darts to my mouth as if he’s trying to decipher my thoughts.

  I begin rocking into him, forcing him to fuck me, if not faster, then at least harder. I could come any second now if I apply just the right pressure on my clit.

  I’ve never orgasmed any other way, but I’m an expert at it.

  “Look at me.”

  My head snaps up. I was watching him fuck me, thrilling over the sight of his cock sinking inside my cunt.

  “Stop touching yourself.”

  My mouth opens, but all he does is give his head the smallest shake. I lift my hands and grab onto the curve between his shoulders and his neck.

  He grasps my hips, forcing me back and then pulling me forward.

  My eyes flutter as that slow friction builds to something hot and fantastic in my core.

  Also, I kinda feel like I have to pee.

  But that can wait, I’m sure.

  I squirm around his cock, but a slap to my rump stills me.

  Fuck, this feels good, but if he doesn’t let me touch myself, I’ll never—

  “You’re perfect,” he says.

  My eyes go wide. I want to laugh, want to start listing all the things that make me far from anything approaching perfect, but I can’t.

  Because I can see he believes it.

  He thinks I’m perfect.

  He knows I’m perfect.

  I groan, my body trembling as hedonistic bliss wreathes its way deep into my core.

  “What are you doing to me?” I whisper furiously.

  “I’m fucking you,” he says.

  “No, this…this is different.” I hear panic in my voice.

  Something’s wrong. My body’s on fire, but my skin is ice cold. I have no control over myself. I’m moving in ways I’ve never moved before. My hips are fluid, my spine bending like a supple leather belt.

  “You’re mine, Clover,” he says this through his teeth. The possessiveness in his voice sends a hard shudder through me. I dig my nails into his shoulders, struggling to get my body under control, struggling to keep my eyes open.

  “I can do whatever the fuck I want to you.”

  “Hunter.” His name comes out in a sigh, and his lips part around a deep throated groan.

  “Let go. Be mine.” He swipes a tongue over his lips, and it’s possibly the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life.

  “Come with me.”

  My body is incapable of disobeying his command. His fingers dig into my hips. He holds me still as he thrusts into me, drawing a gasp from me.

  Again.

  “Hunter.” It’s a desperate plea, because something’s roaring toward me and I don’t have a fucking clue what it is.

  It doesn’t scare me, not with him here. What scares me is the fact that I can’t look away. I want him to drink me down, consume me whole, take everything and leave nothing behind.

  He thrusts into me. “Come.”

  I grab him so hard, I can feel blood under my fingertips.

  Blood for blood.

  My body spasms, gripping him so hard that I can feel his cock throbbing as he empties himself deep, so fucking deep, inside me.

  “Let go,” he says.

  Am I hurting him?

  But then I realize I’m holding back. I’m stifling my orgasm so I can maintain some modicum of control.

  Clover Vos would never allow herself to be unaware, unprepared, vulnerable.

  That’s when bad things happen.

  That’s when the dark comes for me, and shreds my soul with its ragged nails.

  “Hunter!” I speak his name like a curse, a revelation, a prayer.

  Such a look of absolute adoration floods his face that even if I wanted to, I can’t close
my eyes. I come hard and slow, just like he’s fucking me, and it’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever experienced.

  He keeps thrusting into me, drawing out my climax until I’m a shivering mess.

  I sob and clap my hands over my mouth in shock.

  Hunter smiles at me, slides as deep inside me as he can, and drags me down for a kiss. He flips me onto my back on the couch, staying inside me as he softens. Then he just keeps kissing me until I’m so light headed that the room spins around me.

  He draws back, our heated panting mingling as our lips brush against each other. With a swipe of his hands, he clears strands of hair from my cheeks and cups my face.

  “You can run,” he whispers, his brown eyes as deep and dark as the shadows in the forest. “But I’ll always catch you.”

  We both know I will run. It’s in my nature. I’m a bunny, and he’s a wolf. My instinct will be to race away from the predator that flickers in his eyes.

  After he’s caught me, he’ll bring me back to his den and make him mine all over again.

  Maybe, one day, I won’t run anymore.

  Maybe, one day, he won’t chase after me.

  I can only hope that day won’t be any time soon.

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  Clover

  Birds chirp me awake. I push onto my elbows, completely disorientated. But then I feel the silky sheets under me, and the gentle cast of light coming through a nearby window reels back my mind.

  Fuck, what time is it?

  I’m still aching inside, and my body feels so deliciously heavy with muscles sore from tensing.

  I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked as hard as I was last night. We moved to the room at some stage; how, I don’t remember. I think we even fucked on the stairs.

  I do know that we came to some kind of agreement. That we made some weird, veiled proclamation to each other.

  Like, I think we’re a couple now.

  I laugh as I wipe my hands over my face. My hair’s an absolute mess and it’s going to take at least half an hour to brush it out.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I jerk, gripping the sheet to my naked body before my scrambling brain can inform me that it’s Hunter asking the question.

  He has a tray in his hands. Two cups of coffee, a small plate with some kind of bread on it.

  “Nothing,” I murmur, and reach out grabby hands for the coffee. “Mmm.”

  He holds the tray for me to take my cup and perches on the edge of the bed.

  I poke one of the slices of bread. I smell vanilla or something wafting from it, and it’s been smeared with butter. “What’s this?”

  “Your new favorite snack,” he says, breaking a corner from the slice I touched and bringing it to my mouth. “At least, that’s what Esli will insist.”

  “Esli?”

  “My cleaning lady.”

  I watch him warily for a second before I open my mouth. His fingers brush my lips as he sets the morsel on my tongue, and he sends a shiver through my body as he swipes his thumb over my bottom lip.

  I chew once, roll my eyes to the heavens, and let out a lingering, “Mmm.”

  His mouth twitches into a smile.

  “Eat up,” he says, standing with his coffee cup in his hand. “We have a guest arriving shortly.”

  I hastily swallow. “A…guest?”

  Who the fuck? What the fuck? If I hadn’t only just woken up, I’d have given him a tongue lashing he’d still be punishing me for a week from now.

  Hunter turns away, but doesn’t leave just yet. Instead, he stares out the bedroom window as he takes a sip of his coffee. When his gaze touches me again, a cold ripple shimmies down my spine.

  “You said you wanted to know.” He shrugs a little. “I’ve tracked him down. He’s agreed to come through.” Hunter twists his wrist, and I realize for the first time he’s wearing a button-up shirt and smart slacks. Not quite a suit, but with that watch on his wrist…?

  “Kane,” I say, dredging the name from the bottom of my memory river with some difficulty. I break off another corner of that delicious bread and shove it in my mouth. “Your…?”

  I leave the sentence dangling, but Hunter seems to have no intention of completing it. He points to the closet. “Wear something nice.”

  He leaves then, giving me a faint smile on the way out.

  Blood for blood.

  I guess it’s too late to tell him I don’t want to know.

  Fuck, who’m I fooling? I want to know.

  And…I kinda have this feeling he’s been waiting a long time to tell someone.

  To tell me.

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  Hunter

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. When I take it out, my hands are trembling ever so slightly. Shit, I can’t believe I’m this nervous. I tap on my phone’s screen and, half a mile away, the gates to my premises swing open.

  I haven’t seen Kane in over five years.

  And to think, we were best friends. Well, I thought we were. Looking back, maybe I was the only one who thought that. Regardless, I swore an oath, and I refuse to break it.

  I’ll admit, I’m shocked he even answered my call. No. I’m shocked his number was still the same. After everything—

  Fuck it, there’ll be enough of that when Kane gets here.

  Movement catches my eye. Clover, making her way down the stairs. A red-haired beauty in that dress, cheeks flushed with health, and an inquisitive gleam in her eyes.

  My mouth goes dry.

  I suddenly want to take this all back. Calling Kane, telling Clover I’d reveal everything.

  She thinks she knows me…but after this, will she even be able to look at me?

  A car pulls up to the front of the house. It’s nothing stylish, a sand-colored Jeep probably three years old. Something I expected Kane to be driving.

  What I didn’t expect to see was the woman who climbed out beside him.

  “Fuck.”

  Clover comes to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. Then she hurries up to me and grabs my wrist. “What?” Her voice is deep, demanding.

  “It’s…It’s Ziggy.”

  Clover remains silent, and I glance down at her in surprise. At hearing a name like that, I would have expected a snarky comment from her. But perhaps she senses the tension of the moment. She’s a surprisingly intuitive creature. I suspect that’s how she lasted as long as she did. She turned that talent to her advantage by picking weak men to prey on.

  Ziggy looks toward the house, but with the sun at its current angle, I doubt she can see through the glazing. She shades her eyes and then looks to Kane as he climbs out the driver’s side of his Jeep.

  My chest constricts.

  Fingers brush the back of my hand. I jerk, glancing down at Clover as she pries my cellphone from my grip. “You’re gonna break it,” she mutters, as if she can’t stand the thought of me damaging something as expensive as this piece of tech.

  I lick my lips, lift my chin, and head for the door.

  Kane ambles up to the path leading to the front of my house, eyes veiled by a pair of shades. He’s smoking a cigarette, the filter right at the juncture between palm and knuckles as he plucks it from his mouth for an exhale.

  I worshipped this man.

  He was my best friend, my mentor, perhaps even a foster father. He’s pushing forty, but it’s as if he hasn’t changed a day. The lines around his mouth might be deeper, but he still walks with the casual authority of a man who suffered through Armageddon and came out the other side unscathed.

  Ziggy’s wearing heels, a mini skirt, and her dark brown hair long and loose.

  Just how Kane always liked it.

  A torturous pain squeezes at my heart as I think of M.J.

  Warmth buffets my side. I look down. Clover is at my side, blue-grey eyes turned up to me and her face devoid of mirth. She slides an arm around my waist, squeezes me, and says, “Thank you.”

  I let out a short laugh. “For what?”
And then I clear my throat because my voice is rough and thick.

  “For letting me in.”

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  Clover

  My heart’s beating so hard, it feels like it’s gonna come right out. The guy walking up to Hunter’s front door doesn’t look that intimidating. Dark hair, shades, an arrogant sway to his hips. He’s older than Hunter, maybe six or seven years, but I don’t think age is what’s weighing him down.

  The girl at his side — the hussy with an attitude of note — is pretty enough, but she’s clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping her afloat.

  But Hunter’s tensing causes wave after wave of panic to crash over me.

  Who is this Kane guy? What the hell happened to him and Hunter eight years ago that can bring such a strong, determined man like Hunter to his knees?

  Hunter pushes me away to go and open the door. His eyes are glazed, like all he can see right now is the past. He open the door, and Kane flicks away the cigarette he was smoking.

  The two men stare at each other, Kane almost a foot shorter than Hunter, and then Hunter sticks out his hand. Tensions makes the air sticky with anticipation.

  Kane steps forward, knocks away Hunter’s arm, and wraps him in a hug.

  Well, I guess I’m about to find out.

  Read the continuation of Blood for Blood:

  The Binding Ties

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