Hunter Mourned (Wild Hunt Book 3)

by Nancy Corrigan

  She exhaled a shaky breath. “I can’t say I’d complain about being on the receiving end of your addiction.”

  “Glad you feel that way.” He slid his hands to her ass and lifted her bottom, tilting her to give him the angle he needed. With her open to him, he worshiped her, licking and thrusting, swirling and sucking. She writhed for him. Whimpered for him. Begged him for release. He eased back every time her breath hitched.

  “Trevor.” She clutched at his head, digging her blunt nails into his scalp. “Please, make me come.”

  He sat back and planted his palms on the bed next to her hips. “Don’t touch me. Feel.”

  Her nostrils flared with her quickened breaths. She glared at him, a demand he give in to her burning in her emerald eyes.

  “The sheets, Rowan. Grab them.”

  She clutched fistfuls of the white sheets and dropped her head to the pillow. Her eyes closed.

  No. That wouldn’t do.

  He propped his body over her and pressed his mouth to hers, brushing his lips back and forth over hers and sharing with her the taste of her arousal. After a moment, she tentatively touched the tip of her tongue to his lips. That was the invitation he needed. He kissed her, quickening his thrusts until she matched him and their teeth banged. They dueled their tongues, back and forth, giving and taking. Not once did she stroke her hands over his back. She kept them where he’d told her to leave them.

  Certain she’d obey him, he eased back, avoiding her attempt to recapture his mouth. “Eyes open, baby. I want you to watch my cock stretch the lips I just kissed.”

  She nodded and propped her upper body on her elbows. Her gaze locked onto his shaft. Perfect. He positioned the head of his cock to her opening. With a controlled drive of his hips, he filled her, slowly, inch by inch. Her lashes fluttered, but she watched him join their bodies. He reached the end of her, and she shuddered, her breath rushing out.

  “Oh gods, Trevor. We feel so good.”

  Her whispered praise wrapped around him. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her ear. “Amazing. That’s what we are together. Watch more.”

  “Yes.” She turned her head to look into his eyes. “Show me.”

  He pulled his glistening length back and rocked into her, pushing just the head of his cock into her warm sex before dipping farther. Each penetration took him a little deeper than the last. More of her arousal flowed around his length, wetting his groin, his legs. He panted. The sight of the slickness along his rigid length hardened him impossibly more. So did the soft noises she made—the whimpers, the breathy moans, the gasps. She told him exactly what he needed to hear without saying a word. That he undid her. Made her wild. Crazed.

  “Rowan.” He ran his hands over her body, caressing her sides, her hips, her breasts. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  “Need you to kiss me.”

  He lowered his body, pushing his dick deep, and gave her what she asked for, kissing her while he rocked into her body. The ache in his length built the longer they gently loved each other. He needed to move. Faster. Harder. The drag of her inner muscles would ease the ache in his dick. His body craved that—to fuck her, taking her and making her lose all control. His mind wanted more of Rowan’s kisses.

  He slipped his hand under her shoulders and held her close. The ache built. The grip of her sex tightened around his length.

  More. He needed more.

  Breaking their kiss, he caught her gaze and gave himself over to the demands consuming him, taking from her what he hungered for. Deep, full thrusts spread tingles over his shaft. He focused on the sensations, not the tightness in his balls.

  The sounds of sex, their rapid breaths, the pounding of his heart surrounded him. He lost himself in her—riding her until sweat slickened his skin. Dripped off his brow.

  Rowan thrashed under him. Her grip on the sheets never eased. He took in the sight she made. From her flushed skin to her mussed hair, she looked beautiful. Hot. Sexy.

  Mine.

  She had been his. For centuries.

  She’ll always be mine.

  Some emotion swamped him he couldn’t name. It was more than love, softer yet more intense. Feeling it drew his balls up. He couldn’t fight the compulsion to give himself to her. He stilled his frantic loving with his cock lodged deep and let go with a grunt, filling her with his seed.

  Her orgasm swept over her. She groaned his name. He whispered hers, too overwhelmed by the emotions running through him.

  The last of their release eased, and he dropped his head to her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, and the word he sought came to him.

  Devotion.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Rowan woke to the steady rhythm of Trevor’s heartbeat under her ear. She grinned and snuggled closer. What they’d shared had been nothing short of amazing. He’d taken her to heaven. Loved her more completely than she’d ever remembered feeling, even when she’d been in his arms centuries ago.

  “Are you awake?” He whispered the question she’d posed to him the previous night.

  “Yes.”

  He traced her mouth with his fingertip. “What’s put this smile on your face? Did you have a good dream?”

  She met his gaze, and her heart did a little flip in her chest. The first growth of beard darkened his jaw, and his half-lidded eyes held hunger. Need. He looked ready to devour her. She licked her lips, wetting his fingertip. “Maybe, but I don’t remember any.”

  “Then why did you wake up with a smile?”

  He knew. Or at least he probably could guess what left her happy and content. He wanted her to say it, though. No doubt he had a reason, exactly as he had when they’d made love and he’d told her not to touch him. He’d wanted her to feel his devotion, and she had. That was what had put the smile on her face.

  “I was thinking about us. How very lucky we are that we found each other.”

  “Hmm…” He ran his fingers through her hair, pushing the tangled strands off her face. “Do you think so?”

  “Yes. Don’t you?”

  “I don’t know if luck is the right word.”

  “Do you have a better one?”

  He moved his wandering fingers to her jaw, caressing her as if he wanted to commit her features to memory. “Stubbornness.”

  She raised a brow. “Stubbornness?”

  “Yes.”

  He propped his body on his bent elbow and took her left hand. The glove she’d worn the previous night still covered it. Although it was too warm to wear gloves in their room, she hadn’t removed them. She hadn’t wanted to risk ruining her time with Trevor by catching a glimpse of her partial mate mark.

  She grasped his wrist. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking these off.” He glanced at her. A challenge shone in his eyes. “You won’t hide anything from me. Not your pain or your happiness. I have a right to share everything with you.”

  “I’m not hiding anything from you.” She yanked on his hand, trying to pry it off hers. His grip never wavered. “The gloves are for me.”

  “Were. Past tense, Rowan. You don’t need them anymore.”

  “You can’t judge that. Whether I need gloves or not is my decision.”

  He held her gaze. Stubbornness was written on his face. He wasn’t going to let her hide from the visual reminder of their previous life. He would wipe out every pathetic attempt she’d use to resist him. That was what he’d meant. It wasn’t luck that brought them to this point. It was stubbornness. He hadn’t waited patiently to get what he wanted. Once he’d decided she was his, he’d taken her. At the moment, he’d set his sights on another goal. He wanted her gloveless.

  She relaxed her muscles and waited for him to peel the material down her arm. He grinned, obviously pleased with the small sign of her acceptance.

  With slow movements, he revealed the reminder of her failure to Kai. Seeing the single black circle on her palm filled her with remorse. The emotion didn’t hit her as strongly as it had
in the past, but it still rose, clouding her heart and leaving her sullen. Why did she have to be so stubborn where Kai was concerned? If he’d joined the Hunt as he’d wanted, she never would’ve…

  “Rowan, stop.”

  Trevor’s sharp tone cut off her destructive train of thought. She raised her gaze to his.

  “This is a sign of your love. Whether it was given centuries ago or today doesn’t matter. You still feel it, don’t you? You love me.” He pressed her left palm to his chest. “This soul. Whatever body I’m in.”

  “Yes, I love you. How could I not? You’re—”

  “Perfect for me.”

  That wasn’t what she was going to say, but it fit her feelings better than just waving the soul mate title around. Just because they shared that bond didn’t mean it was a miraculous union that would turn them into better people. Their personalities, life experiences, and stubborn attitudes were the things that had shaped them, allowing for the connection she shared with Trevor.

  She nodded. “Now we are. In this life. Not before. We hadn’t grown enough before I decided to lock you to my side.”

  Trevor met her gaze. His agreement was there, reflected in his eyes.

  “All my life, my heart has sought a thing I cannot name. Now I can.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Rowan.”

  The reverence in his words brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them away. “That’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” He grinned. “I saw that on a coffee mug.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I figured it’d be a good line to use when I held the love of my life in my arms.” He pulled her body flush to his. “Marry me, Rowan.”

  “Marry you?”

  He leaned back to meet her gaze. He raised a brow. “Umm…this is the point where you’re supposed to throw your arms around me and shout ‘yes!’”

  She chuckled and wrapped him in her embrace, squeezing him tightly. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask. We haven’t been together long, and well…” She shrugged. “A slip of paper from a human doesn’t mean a whole lot to me.”

  “No, we haven’t been together long, but time’s not going to change my mind. Besides, this is take two for us. Sort of.” He scrunched his brows. “How long were you with me before?”

  “A few months before I went to the Underworld for training. Then a little over two years after I returned.”

  “Then we’re at three years, give or take a couple of months. That’s long enough. And a slip of paper means a lot to me. So will seeing a ring”—he traced a circle around her ring finger—“here. People will see that and know you’re mine.”

  She flexed her hand. “I can’t wear a ring. When I take my Huntsman’s form, my fingers thicken. The ring will either snap, or it’ll break my finger.”

  He cringed. “Yeah. Forgot about that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t be. You can wear my ring on a chain around your neck.”

  She caressed her upper chest. It’d be soothing to touch the symbol of their bond when they couldn’t be together. She wasn’t foolish enough to think they’d always be together. Even Calan and Tegan spent time apart from their mates. Life got in the way. “I’d like that.”

  He sat up, pulling her with him. “Then it’s settled. Tomorrow afternoon, we’re going to tie the knot. I have a friend who will perform the ceremony without the legal bullshit.”

  “Tomorrow? Are you crazy? I don’t have a dress, and we don’t have rings.”

  “We can buy that stuff. There’s a wedding shop not far from where Ian used to live.”

  She met his eager gaze and couldn’t come up with a reason not to marry him. “Okay.”

  He smiled, and his happiness settled over her, filling her with excitement. She did want the world to know Trevor was hers. A ring on his finger would accomplish that, and he wouldn’t have to worry about an alternate form destroying it. After accepting the Huntsman’s mark, he’d have sharpened nails, not claws in the same sense she did, and elongated teeth. Otherwise, his human body would remain the same. That was what Ian had experienced in the short time he’d ridden in the Hunt.

  “Great.”

  He kissed her but eased back before the lust consumed them. His annoyed glare directed at the clock on the nightstand told her why. They’d slept the day away. Sunset had come and gone.

  “It’s after seven already?” He cursed. “We need to be out there hunting.”

  Unfortunately, he was right. “There are no days off for us. We won’t even get a honeymoon.”

  “We’ll make it work. There are plenty of things we can do together during the day.” He gave her a kiss and climbed out of bed. “Come on. We’ll take a quick shower and head back to that bar near Jen’s place.”

  They showered together, washing each other, but didn’t have time to enjoy the moment. The clock was ticking, and every night that went by posed a risk. Craig hadn’t attacked another woman in over a week. That meant he was likely to strike soon, or he’d moved on. Neither were satisfactory options.

  Steam from the bathroom warmed the air-conditioned room. She shivered and gathered their clothes while Trevor checked his phone.

  He frowned. “Jen is here.”

  “As in—here at the hotel.”

  “Yes. The relief guard I have on her followed her here this afternoon. She checked in with a small bag.” He glanced at her. “Alone.”

  Jen’s actions didn’t make sense. There was no logical reason for her to stay at a hotel blocks away from her apartment.

  “I don’t get it either.” Rowan handed his clothes to him, then slipped on her underwear and bra. “We can stop by her room and talk to her.”

  “Yeah.” Trevor set his phone on the bed. The lines creasing his forehead deepened. “I think we should.”

  The worry in his voice sparked hers. She laid her hand on his bicep. “What?”

  “Most suicides occur in the home, but if she didn’t want to leave her body for her neighbors to find…”

  She didn’t need Trevor to finish his thought. Jen wouldn’t have wanted to hurt anyone with her passing. Wasn’t that one of the reasons she’d given Trevor for not wanting to get to know Allie? But she also said… “Jen won’t take her own life. She told us that.”

  “I hope you’re right.” He took the bundle of clothes she handed him and pulled on the shirt. “I’d rather check just to make sure.”

  Rowan hastily dressed, leaving her gloves on the floor, then sat on the bed to buckle the straps of her shoes. “I’ll call Rhys tonight too and ask him to bring Allie here tomorrow morning.”

  “Sounds good.” Trevor grabbed the dagger and sheath from the nightstand. His body stiffened. He flicked his gaze to hers. His features hardened. Fury radiated off him. “There’s a redcap here.”

  “Craig.” Unless one of his brothers decided to show up, it had to be him. “Jen is here with him.”

  Trevor cursed and tightened the strap on the holder. “Bastard probably thought it’d be funny to meet Jen here.”

  Because Craig would sense Rowan if he got close enough. She didn’t have the same advantage, thanks to Raul. At the moment, she wanted to go to where he was incarcerated in the Underworld and hurt him again for the situation he’d put the Huntsmen in. The frustration and helplessness that had been hanging over them for months choked her. She’d slept the day away in Trevor’s arms while evil lurked close by.

  Craig could’ve broken into their room and hurt Trevor before she could stop him.

  No! She shoved the thought out. She had to focus on facts. Craig was here, but he wouldn’t know Trevor could sense him by using the dagger Harley had given him.

  “This is our chance to kill him.” Trevor echoed her thoughts.

  “Yes.” She glanced at the desk where a binder sat with the hotel’s name on it. “This isn’t the best place to fight him. There are too many innocents nearby.”

 
“No choice.” Trevor laced his boots. “You’ll have to obscure us the best you can. We can’t let him slip away.”

  She closed her eyes and reached out to her hounds, calling them to surround the hotel and sharing with them the knowledge of Craig. “The hounds will be in the streets. They will alert us if they see him leave.”

  “And I texted your siblings. They’re on their way.” He shoved his phone in his rear pocket and walked to the door.

  The compulsion to keep Trevor out of danger warred with her duty to mankind. She wanted to tell him they’d wait for the other Huntsmen to arrive, but the sudden appearance of several Hunters would tip Craig off. He’d run, or kill Jen, if he hadn’t already.

  She hurried after Trevor. “Remember, I have to make the kill.”

  “We don’t need to save his soul. We just need to kill the fucker.” Trevor jogged down the hallway toward the stairs.

  “Don’t we?” She cut him a glance. “Craig was once important to Jen. If there’s a chance he can redeem himself, then for Jen’s peace of mind, we should take it. Otherwise, she’ll always blame herself.”

  He gave a sharp nod. “As long as you can without risking anyone’s life.”

  “Agreed.”

  He pushed the stairwell door opened. Although they were on the top floor, stairs led in both directions. He pointed down, and they took the stairs, passing floor after floor. Her heart pounded as they hurried to get to the floor where Craig, and most likely Jen, were staying. Anticipation caused the rapid beat. That wasn’t the only thing, however. Excitement built with each step she took. Hunting sparked a primal drive within her, leaving her feeling powerful. Craig was her prey. She wanted to capture him. Make him pay for the crimes he’d committed.

  The Huntsman’s mark on her upper chest flared. She opened herself to her hound and looked through its eyes to see what had caused the animal to reach out to her. The empty gaze of a sluagh met hers. Its blond hair and familiar features sent a wave of rage through her that stirred the darker side of her persona. The male had been the only one out of the group of college kids at the bar that Jen had worked at who hadn’t caught her mare’s interest, which meant he hadn’t caused a crime worthy of suffering in Hell. A poor choice in friends didn’t count.