Desires of the Otherworld 2: Darkest Hunger

by Aline Hunter

  “That feels sinful.” Willow bit his shoulder and groaned.

  “I’m glad you think so.” He cupped her ass in his palms. “Because we’re just getting started.”

  Willow gazed at the moon as Bridon moved inside her, using the same slow strokes. He was holding back for some reason, not giving her what he knew she needed. She had asked him to make love to her, and he did. Now she needed more, a deeper connection to the man who had wound his way into her heart. The heat was overwhelming, making her muscles ache and her pussy clench.

  “Harder.” She exhaled the word into his ear.

  His breathing hitched, and he increased the tempo. It was a good start, but nowhere near what she wanted. She brought her hands down to his ass, mirroring his hold on her, and dug her nails into his skin. Despite this, he kept going at his pace, keeping her on the brink of another orgasm that would rock her world but wouldn’t do shit to end the molten heat burning in her veins.

  “I need you,” she said desperately, drowning in the ripples of fire beneath her skin.

  He moved back, meeting her gaze. There was a strange look in his slate gray eyes. “Tell me exactly how you need me. After everything that’s happened, after everything you’ve learned, tell me what I mean to you.” He drove into her, pressed his pelvis against hers, and was rewarded with a throaty moan. “I want to know this is more than the mating heat. I need to know that you’ve finally seen past all the lies and deception to the man I am.”

  He wants me to accept his claim.

  There it was, as clear as the starless sky above them. She’d never considered that he wanted to hear it, but then again, she was entirely new to this Fated thing. She looked into his face, struck as always by his features. He was a mixture of masculine beauty and brawn, a combination impossible to ignore. Staring at his mouth, she remembered the way it felt as he’d kissed her so gently the first night they’d shared together. It was as if he were giving her a first kiss, something she would never forget.

  Something she would always cherish—like him.

  Although her abdomen ached with unbearable need, she didn’t protest his steady plunges. Rather she leaned forward to kiss the lips that had been so careful with her. It was soft and sweet, a gentle brush of mouth upon mouth. When she pulled back, he was watching her, and she knew the time had come to tell him what he wanted to hear. He was a worthy mate and had proven himself time and again.

  “I see you, Bridon Walkyr. All of you. The man, the vampire, my Fated and my Chosen.”

  He grinned. “Are you certain you don’t want to add parasite, leech, or bloodsucking bastard to that?”

  “Not unless you plan to keep me on edge like this for the rest of the night.”

  Moving close, he brought their foreheads together. “Is there something you want, love?”

  “You.” She stared into the dark depths of his eyes.

  His breath caressed her face. “You have me.”

  He moved in just the right way, rotating his hips, rolling them, and settled into a smooth, hard motion. She pushed her sweat-slicked chest against his, encouraging him with the whimpers and cries she knew he loved so much. As he slid into her pussy, she shifted her ass so that they moved together in harmony.

  “I’m close,” he warned against her ear.

  “Come inside me, Bridon. I want to feel you lose control.”

  He waited until she was on the brink of orgasm before he drilled her even faster. They came at the same time, shouting simultaneously into the night. She felt his cock jerk, and her body welcomed the jets of heat that signified their mating. She sighed as the fire beneath her skin faded and the painful twisting in her stomach vanished.

  “Hold on.” Bridon wrapped his arms around her, and she clasped her legs around his waist. He lifted her from the pier, waded through the water, and carried her from the pond. The air was brisk, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She sagged against the grass as he laid her down and quickly occupied the space beside her.

  “Rest while you can.” He brought his nose to the hollow of her throat and inhaled, as if putting her scent to memory. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

  She smiled. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

  He moved from her throat, speaking against her jaw. “That’s a promise.”

  When he came over her, looking down, she skimmed her finger along his lip. “It’s unfair that we had to start out as we did.”

  His expression changed, becoming serious. “I don’t regret any of it. I would have endured your hatred and contempt for as long as necessary.” His voice softened. “All that matters is that you came back to me.”

  Sweet Moirae, it was so hard to ask, but she scrounged up the courage. “Do you ever wish I was more like her?”

  “At first, perhaps.”

  Pain lanced through her. “I’m sorry.”

  He cupped her face in his large palm. “Never apologize for being who you are.”

  “Even if I’m not the woman you lost?”

  “You’re more than that. Far, far more.”

  “I don’t understand.” She tried to avoid his gaze, but he wouldn’t allow it.

  “As I got to know you, I knew that there was a reason Aislynn died. For all her beauty, grace, and kindness, she was too reserved and cautious to make me truly happy. Now I realize that the Fates had something better in store for me.” She gave him a questioning look, and he explained with a wry grin. “They took away what I thought I wanted so that I would truly appreciate what I was given when the time came.”

  She didn’t think it was possible to want him even more than she already did, but he proved her wrong. “You’re a sweet talker. Has anyone told you that?”

  His voice dipped an octave. “I know something that’s even sweeter.”

  Clever fingers brushed against her sex, and she quivered. “I don’t know about that. You’d have to convince me.”

  He whispered against her skin as he slid down her body, “All you have to do is ask.”

  Epilogue

  The Otherworld

  Arcadia Province

  Walkyr Castle

  Three Months Later

  “Watch out!” Willow screamed as she chased the rambunctious toddler who darted through the servants in his way. “Runaway baby coming through!”

  One unfortunate victim didn’t heed the warning in time and toppled from the stool he was standing on to clean one of the paintings. He hit the ground with a thump, and Willow cringed. She offered a quick, “Sorry about that,” and continued on, chasing her nephew who was learning about his increased speed and agility.

  Deacon didn’t slow when he hit the stairs, taking them two at a time. Damn. He’d picked the worst time ever to come into his Wolven abilities. Next time her brother and sister-in-law wanted to take a little vacation, she was going to be firm and just say no.

  “Watch it! Incoming!” she yelled as Deacon started making his way through the dining room. He didn’t bother using the floor. Instead he leaped onto the surface of the table, bumping into and destroying all the expensive dishes and flowers in his path. Someone screamed as he jumped from the table and ran between their legs, making a hasty exit into the next room.

  “Deacoooon!” she called out to his fleeing form, trying to reason with him, which was stupid really. Ever since the energetic toddler had woken, learned he could scale his bed, jump from the upstairs banister, and run as fast as she could, he’d been unstoppable.

  She made it to the next room just in time to hear dishes crashing to the floor, followed by the cursing of the small brownie creature Bridon had hired as a chef. Double damn. Hoping the kitchen might be spared was yet another case of idiotic wishful thinking.

  After rushing through the kitchen, she came to the back door. The blasted thing was flung wide open. While the tot could tolerate short amounts of time in the sun, his mother’s vampiric genetics meant that extended doses could kill him. Her brother would have her ass if something happened to his chil
d.

  “Deacon, get back here!” she thundered.

  She saw a flash of dark hair as Deacon barreled for the door. He was almost at his destination when he was scooped up. Her sigh of relief was short-lived when she saw that the person responsible for the rescue was none other than Bridon—the very man who’d recommended they take in their nephew so she could get a handle on what it would be like when they had children of their own.

  He wrapped his arm around Deacon’s tummy, arching a dark brow at her. “Still think a nanny is a bad idea?”

  She scowled. “Our children can’t possibly be this bad. He’s an exception to the rule.”

  Bridon closed his eyes, shook his head, and passed the boy over to Deacon’s nanny who had come along in case Willow couldn’t handle things. The older woman murmured something that sounded like a reprimand to Deacon in her native Irish dialect before she ruffled his hair and carried him back through the kitchen.

  “He’s one baby,” Willow said weakly. “It can’t possibly be that difficult.”

  “He’s a baby with a mixed heritage who requires special care,” Bridon corrected and walked toward her.

  She slumped into his arms, basking in the reprieve. They’d only had Deacon for a week and she was already exhausted. He didn’t sleep through the night. He couldn’t decide if he wanted liquid or solid food. And he was teething, which meant he chewed up everything in sight. By the time she was finished putting him to bed each night, she was too exhausted to do anything more than crawl into bed with her Chosen and sleep.

  It was absolutely, positively depressing.

  “Hilda’s going to care for Deacon while we’re out for the full moon.” Bridon kissed the top of her head.

  “I hope I still have what it takes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “In case you haven’t noticed, our new houseguest has made our time together a second priority.”

  “Believe me, I’ve noticed.” He moved back, took her head in his hands, and kissed her. Her insides started to tingle, and she felt a spark of life between her legs.

  Thank you, fucking goddesses.

  Bridon lifted her into his arms, and she didn’t argue. Being this close to him felt good after spending so many nights together but apart. He carried her through the kitchen and dining room, then back up the stairs. When they made it to their bedroom, he opened the door, then locked it behind them.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said and peppered kisses along Bridon’s throat as he placed her on the mattress.

  He pressed his body against hers. “That’s a relief. I was beginning to think I’d been traded off for a handsome toddler who excels at getting himself in trouble.”

  “You know what they say about bad boys.”

  He nipped her earlobe, licked the shell, and whispered, “What do they say?”

  Heat rushed through her. Fates, how she ached for this man. “I can’t remember.” She groaned, rubbing against him. “And I don’t really care. Do you?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  She rose so he could remove her shirt and bra. The moment her breasts were accessible, he teased them. Reaching between their bodies, she found his hard and swollen cock and massaged it through his pants. He moved his hips, applying pressure to her hand.

  She released him and tugged at his shirt. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to last long.”

  “I’d say you’re probably right.”

  All it would take was one request, and she knew he’d give her anything she asked for. They were alone for the first time in a week. Deacon was safe with his nanny. And it had been so damned long since she’d been with her mate, she couldn’t wait to feel him inside her.

  “Can we stop talking now?” she asked breathlessly.

  He didn’t say another word as he stripped them both, slid between her legs, and pressed inside her until the entire world faded away. Nothing was left but Bridon—her mate, her Chosen, and her Fated. His presence surrounded her as he moved, going slow, worshipping her tenderly. He watched her as he penetrated her body, gazing into her eyes. It was the ultimate display of vulnerability.

  Just as he could see how she felt, she could see how he felt as well.

  Their journey hadn’t been an easy one, but it made her devotion to the man unshakable. He meant more to her than anything ever had or would.

  She feathered her lips across his and whispered, “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” He smiled.

  No more words were spoken, and no more words were needed.

  Death and pain had separated them.

  Life and love had united them.

  Loose Id Titles by Aline Hunter

  The DESIRES OF THE OTHERWORLD Series

  Eternity and a Day

  Darkest Hunger

  Aline Hunter

  Aline Hunter is the alias of multi-published author J.A. Saare, who has written stories featured in horror magazines, zombie romance anthologies, and flash fiction contests. Her work has a notable dark undertone, which she credits to her love of old eighties horror films, tastes in music, and choices in reading, and have been described as “full of sensual promise,” “gritty and sexy,” and “a breath of fresh air.”

  Currently she is penning multiple projects within the urban fantasy, erotic and contemporary, and paranormal romance categories.

  Catch up with Aline at http://www.alinehunter.com. Those interested in her tamer side can learn more by visiting http://www.jasaare.com.