Stolen (Book Two of the Silver Wood Coven Series): A Witch and Warlock Romance Novel

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Stolen (Book Two of the Silver Wood Coven Series): A Witch and Warlock Romance Novel Page 3

by Hunter, Hazel


  “You are the only certainty in my world anymore, Beauty.” He brought his mouth to hers, and kissed her so gently their lips barely brushed.

  He is yours, the old crone inside her head murmured. Take him now.

  Summer cradled his face, fastening her open mouth over his to taste him. The moment her tongue touched his, Michael groaned, and his arms tightened around her. He held her so that her sex pressed against the thick ridge of his erection, and the heavy hardness made her go soft and wet. Vaguely Summer realized the shifting movement under her came from Michael’s legs as he carried her back to his bedroom. They were going to do this, and knowing that ignited such a desperate desire inside her that she heard herself moan. Michael didn’t put her down but rolled onto the bed with her, his big body pressing hers against the cool silk, his hands dragging hers up over her head.

  It took him another minute to stop kissing her long enough to breathe, and then he simply gazed down at her with the expression of a starving man presented with an endless banquet.

  “What you said to me is the same for you. I know you were with Troy––that you care for him. If you wish me to stop, it must be now, or not at all.”

  Summer loved the faint tremor in his voice as much as the insistent nudge of his erection between her legs.

  “Troy is important to me, but so are you.” She grabbed handfuls of his shirt and pulled him down so that their noses bumped. “And you’re not going anywhere, pal.” She covered his mouth with hers.

  Michael kissed her as ruthlessly as he stripped her, his tongue gliding in and out as his hands tugged and pulled and tore. He had her gasping when he sat up to yank off his shirt.

  Summer stared at his chest, which was broad and heavily paved with muscle under his golden skin. As brutally gorgeous as he was, she could also see dozens of old scars marring his skin. All of them appeared to be from blades, which made her throat tight as she touched one jagged mark with her fingertips.

  “So many battles.” Until now she had never considered how violent Michael’s life as a Templar had been. “Will you ever stop fighting?”

  “I have tonight.”

  He tugged her panties down her legs and sat back on his haunches to look at her nude body, his hands curling into fists on his thighs.

  Summer grabbed his arms and used them to haul herself upright. Touching his skin made her palms tingle and her mouth water, and she pressed her lips to his shoulder. When he didn’t move she wondered if he’d changed his mind.

  “If you want to slow down, it’s fine. I know the first time can seem a little scary.”

  Bitterness darkened his expression. “I wish you were my first, but I have broken my vows many times.” He stared at her breasts before he met her gaze. “I have never been with a woman like you, Summer. None of the other females I have lain with ever cared for me. I paid them to take me.”

  She felt an immense tenderness flood her. “Then I think that makes me the first in your heart.”

  “I tell you I’ve been with whores, and you console me.” He shook his head.

  That the Templars had forced him to live a celibate life angered her, but the shame he felt over trying to secretly escape it broke her heart.

  “I’m not here because you hired me,” she said softly. “I’m in your bed because I want to be with you. What do you want to do with me, Michael?”

  “Give you everything you need. Make love to you in the way you want.” His chest heaved as he dragged in a deep breath. “And fuck you until neither of us can walk.”

  His poetic, graphic honesty pleased her, and Summer smiled and lay back, thrusting out her breasts and parting her thighs. “Take off your pants first. I need you naked.”

  Michael climbed off the bed to unfasten his trousers and step out of them. Like Troy he was not circumcised. But his shaft was so erect that his cockhead had emerged from his ruddy foreskin, the thick bulb engorged and glistening with a drop of his cream. Summer’s thighs quivered as she realized she was going to have all that inside her in only a few moments.

  He smiled a little at her. “You look worried.”

  “I have no idea why. You’re only built like a stallion.” Summer watched him take a condom from his nightstand and sheath himself. “Just how recently have you been hiring those ladies to help you break your vows, anyway?”

  “Not for a long time. I bought these after you left me.” He sounded disgusted with himself. “I don’t know why.”

  “I do.” She smiled. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

  Something seemed to snap inside Michael, for he took hold of her ankles and dragged her to the edge of the mattress with one tug. He loomed over her, the heavy shaft of his penis in his fist, and crouched as he moved it between her thighs.

  “I have you now, my Beauty,” he said softly as he pressed in, his broad cockhead parting her and pushing inside to penetrate her. As she arched her back he held her waist and moved his hips in short, powerful thrusts as he gave her more and more. “This is what you wanted. Take it. Take it all.”

  Summer shuddered as his girth stretched her softness, filling her so completely she wasn’t sure if she could take all of him. Then she lifted her hips and felt the thick bulb of him prod her cervix as his balls pressed against her, warm and velvety.

  “There, that’s it,” he crooned. “You are so sweet on me.”

  The smell of him rolled over her, hot and dark like a midnight in July, and made tiny beads of sweat frame her upper lip. She couldn’t help tightening around him, caressing him and holding him with her slick muscles, and watched as his whole body tensed.

  “Now it’s your turn,” she said, drawing his big hands up to her breasts. “Take me, Michael.”

  He gripped her mounds as he slid out of her, and then thrust back in with two hard, deep jabs that sent a shockwave of aching delight through her belly. He squeezed her breasts, watching her nipples as they flushed and puckered, and gave her his full length again and again, pumping his cock in and out of her.

  Summer curled her legs around him, pulling him in hard with every penetration, moaning softly as he went deeper. The way his cockhead collided with the inner curve of her cervix made a shocking jolt that sizzled with the heat and friction of his fucking.

  “Beauty, my Beauty,” he chanted as he plowed into her, his calloused fingers tugging at her nipples relentlessly. “You like my cock in your little pussy? I think you do. You feel like an oiled fist on me.”

  As he glided over a particularly sensitive spot inside her, she pressed her heels against the backs of his flexing thighs and pulled his head down to her breasts.

  “So pretty.” He licked one hard nipple, toying with it before he covered it with his mouth and sucked, working his tongue on the underside to press it against the edge of his teeth.

  Seeing his lips sealed over her and feeling the delicious suction made Summer’s clit pulse frantically, and she grabbed handfuls of the silk under her as she writhed against him.

  “Please, Michael. That’s so good.”

  He pulled her up so that her body was supported only by his hands and skewered on his penis.

  “Put your arms around my neck. I’m going to fuck you hard now.”

  Summer cried out as she did as she was told, and he splayed his hands over her ass and worked her on his cock. His hot green eyes narrowed as he watched her breasts bounce with every thrust, and smiled as she shivered and clutched at him.

  “There, yes, that’s what you need.” He grunted as he pounded her pussy over and over. “Take what you need, my Beauty. I have it in endless measure. I can fill you like this as much as you need. Your pleasure is right here, right now. Take it and come for me, lovely one. Let me see it in your eyes.”

  The orgasm swept over her with bone-melting power, sending her into a dark palace of sensation. She hurtled through room after room of sweet, hot pleasure until she thought the passion of it would make her melt into nothingness.

  Michael placed her on th
e bed and covered her with his body, still thrusting inside her but with slow, soul-stirring strokes.

  “I knew when you came to me it could be like this.” He brushed the damp hair back from her brow, and kissed it before he gazed into her eyes. “I wish you were mine.”

  She touched his cheek. “I am.”

  “I mean like humans––married to me, my wife.” He thrust deeper and faster. “I would keep you in this bed and fuck you until your pussy overflowed with my seed.” He cupped her nape, studying her drowsy face. “I would fill your belly with my babies.” He forged into her so deep his cockhead lodged in her cervix, with only the thin shield of the condom between them. “You would never go to sleep without me inside you.”

  “I’d never want to.” She kissed him.

  Summer held him as he groaned and shook, and when he pressed his hot face against her neck and came, she stroked his shoulders, closing her own eyes as she wished Troy was there with them, holding them both, loving her as much as her paladin.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MICHAEL WOKE TO the sound of his door chime and Summer sprawled naked atop him, her limbs entwined with his. Gently he moved her to one side, smiling as he heard the faint grumbling sound she made before her breathing slowed again. They had spent all of the day and most of the night wrapped around each other, leaving his bed only to shower and raid his pantry. His Beauty had fed him and teased him and pleasured him, and had in turn writhed and cried out under him as he brought her to climax again and again.

  Once he pulled on his trousers Michael paused only to cover her before he went to see who had disturbed them. As he peered through the peep hole he saw the lower vault of a powerful chest and felt his blood turn to ice. Only one Templar assigned to the North Abbey stood that tall, and he was the most unforgiving, fanatical and deadliest immortal Michael knew.

  “Charbon,” Alvis Berenson bellowed in his oddly high-pitched voice as he pounded on the door with one massive fist. “Attend me now.”

  There was no time to hide Summer. Michael could only compose himself before he jerked open the door and scowled up at the huge Norseman.

  “Do you mean to wake the entire building along with me?”

  “Twill do them good to rise at a proper hour.” Alvis had to duck his head to step inside, and when he straightened he glanced around, his pale eyes narrowing as he took in Michael’s furnishings. “I have heard tales of how you live like a mortal.” He made a circuit of the room, touching various things before he turned on Michael. “What need you with all this frippery of theirs?”

  “I sometimes bring humans here to question them, or enlist their aid for our mission. If I kept it empty, they would have nowhere to sit.” Michael went to draw the blinds. “It also offers an excellent prospect of much of my patrol sector.”

  “Aye, so it does. Had you a mortal slut to warm your bed and cook for you, you’d be just like the rest of these black-hearted sinners.” Alvis joined him and peered down at the streets below, the sunlight glittered in the white-blonde stubble that covered his scalp, and the honed edge of the battle axe he wore strapped to one massive shoulder. “Master Harper has told you about Gideon and Augustin?”

  “I spoke with him yesterday.” Michael had a terrible feeling that Summer was not only awake but eavesdropping on them. “Has there been any news of them?”

  “No. Gideon well-lined his pockets from the master’s safe, and filled three bags with weapons from the armory.” Alvis eyed him. “Automatic rifles and large-caliber hand guns, and enough ammunition to mount a month-long siege. What I cannot fathom is why he took that sniveling idiot clergy aide.”

  “Augustin’s family shares their blood line with our Grand Master,” Michael said. “Gideon knows the value of a political hostage.”

  The Norseman sniffed. “Gideon’s brains are melting to mush. I doubt he knows the value of a ha’penny.” He frowned and drew in another, longer sniff before his eyes widened. “I know that female stink. Have you been dallying with a woman, Charbon?”

  “No,” a low, husky voice said from behind them. “That was me.”

  Michael turned with Alvis to see Summer in her male guise, and stopped himself from reaching for the Norseman’s axe.

  Alvis’s astonishment turned quickly to fury as his cheeks mottled with purplish patches. “Did you lay with this boy, Brother Charbon?”

  “Hey, I don’t do guys.” Summer scowled as she spoke in a thick Brooklyn accent. “Mr. Charbon hired me to look after his place when he’s outta town. Only this time I brought my girl over so we could, ya know. He walked in on us and made me kick her out of here.”

  As Alvis’s suspicious gaze bounced between him and Summer, Michael struggled to keep his expression bland. “The boy took advantage. You know how they are.”

  “Go and bathe,” Alvis finally told Summer. “You yet stink of your whore.”

  “Whatever.” Summer sauntered off to the bathroom, and as soon as the door closed Alvis shook his head.

  “Once these mortal boys begin pestering females they are useless for anything else,” he told Michael. “I say get rid of him.”

  “I was planning to,” he countered. “Now why have you come? Am I needed at the Abbey?”

  “No.” Deep lines bracketed the Norseman’s mouth as he looked out once more at the view. “Charbon, I am troubled, and I come to seek your counsel.” He saw Michael’s expression and added, “I cannot speak of this matter to Master Harper.”

  Since Alvis worshipped Nathaniel Harper almost as much as he revered the Almighty, Michael knew it had to be something that might cause a rift between them. “You can always confide in me, Brother.”

  “I have prayed mightily on it, but to no avail.” His pale eyes burned into Michael’s. “It is this business with the Wiccan wench you seek, this witch who can lead us to the Emerald Tablet. Master Harper has told you how he wishes to acquire the relic so that we may turn the pagans’ filthy magics against them?”

  “If I can ever find the witch,” Michael said.

  According to the Temple Master, the location of the Emerald Tablet lay locked in Summer’s memories, which was one-half of the reason he had taken her from Silver Wood.

  “The master regards this as a strategy, but to me, to trifle with their spells and enchantments is to do the devil’s work for him.” Alvis thumped a ham-size fist against his enormous chest. “My heart knows this. If you believe in our cause, then you know it, too.”

  That the enormous assassin despised pagans and considered them evil was well-known among the Templars. What surprised Michael was the Norseman’s condemnation of Nathaniel’s plan. He’d never known the big man to question anything the Temple Master ordered.

  “What say you, then?” Alvis demanded

  “Master Harper has tasked me with finding the witch,” Michael said carefully. “I am sworn to carry out his orders, so that is what I must do. Once I bring her in, she will be interrogated until she reveals the location of the tablet. I cannot prevent that either, Brother.”

  “Aye, you must do as you are told. But when you find her”––one massive paw landed on Michael’s shoulder like a blow from a fifty-pound sledge––“I beg you first summon me, that I may do the work as the Almighty directs.”

  A torrent of icy fear spilled inside Michael’s gut. Alvis’s intentions were only too clear. He intended to kill Summer before she could be questioned, so that the location of the Emerald Tablet would remain a mystery. Michael had no intention of turning her over to the Norseman, but if her identity were ever revealed…

  “I can do as you ask, Brother,” he lied, “but you know that Nathaniel will never forgive you for thwarting his plans.”

  The roof beam shoulders lifted and fell. “In this I must hold myself accountable to a higher authority.” He gave Michael’s shoulder a rough cuff, which nearly knocked him onto his ass. “I knew I could trust you to walk the same path as I. You are a true servant of the temple, Charbon.”

  CHAPTER
SIX

  NEW YORK CITY in November was a gray, choked rat’s maze, Troy decided as he inched his way through rush hour Manhattan traffic. He’d have done better to park across the river and continue his quest on foot, but he didn’t want to give Michael or any of his Templar comrades the chance to catch him out in the open. Once he rescued Summer, he needed to get her out of the city as fast as possible.

  Finding one witch in a metropolis of eight and a half million people might have been an impossible task, but Troy felt sure Michael Charbon would lead him to her. Thanks to the blood-brother bond they had formed long ago in the depths of a Saracen hell hole, locating the Templar required only a simple tracking spell.

  By doing so Troy was aware that he was breaking the truce that had stood inviolate between him and Michael for centuries, but he didn’t care. The bastard dishonored it first by taking Summer. He snatched her right from under my nose. Troy wouldn’t rest until he had her back––and Michael Charbon’s blood on his blades.

  He emerged from gridlock to follow the tracking spell to an exclusive residential area, where the tether turned around a corner and disappeared into an alley. Troy parked the Jeep at the corner and glanced down the alley to see Michael talking to a giant Viking carrying a battle axe.

  So you do have friends, you son of a bitch. His eyes narrowed as the two men clasped hands; the bigger man had to be another Templar. The giant shrugged into a heavy parka that covered the weapon on his back before he and Michael walked out of the alley.

  Troy quickly cloaked himself with a combat body ward that rendered him invisible, and watched the two men pass before he climbed out of the Jeep. He waited until Michael and the giant parted ways before he began following his former ally. As he did a faint scent teased his nose, like that of a distant garden, and Troy’s head pounded as new rage poured through him.

  Summer’s scent was all over Michael, as if he were carrying her in his arms––which was only possible if they had been close.

 

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