Groaning, Eli pulled his mouth away, then his cock, causing her to scream in frustration. But he flipped her onto her hands and knees and she sobbed when he drove back into her wet cleft, sinking in deeper and harder than before. She glanced up and grinned weakly, whispered, and watched as the little bottle on the bedside table drifted over to them. It bobbled a couple of times—for some reason, she couldn’t focus.
Eli spied it and he laughed shakily.
She squirmed when she felt the cool liquid on her anus and gasped when he worked his finger completely inside her. “I want your cock inside me tonight,” she moaned brokenly.
“Not ready,” he muttered, driving back inside her tight cleft, groaning as she closed over him. He pulled his finger out, and started to work two insider her.
“Damn it, Eli, please,” she sobbed, thrashing wildly on the sheets.
Hell.
Pulling his cock out, he watched as he slowly speared her waiting hole with two fingers, the tight little pucker opening and then closing around them—hot, damp, sweet. His eyes closed and he reached for the lubricant. “It will hurt you,” he warned her.
“I don’t care,” she panted, rocking back to meet him as he drove his fingers back inside her.
Pulling away he took the lubricant and coated his cock heavily, then the tight, pink pucker, even though it already gleamed wetly.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, he thought, staring down at his cock as he started to prod her. She opened slightly and pushed down and he hissed, groaning as the first three inches slid inside, almost easily. But then her body arched and stiffened as the pain started.
Bending over her, he started to stroke her swollen clit, pumping his fingers in and out of her dripping pussy while he murmured in her ear, “It will pass, pet. Breathe out, that’s it. Ah, you are so fucking sweet. Hmm, that’s it.” As her body shuddered, then relaxed, he slid further inside, until half of his length was in. He paused again, petting and stroking until she relaxed, then continuing this time and driving her closer to orgasm. When he felt the spasms in her vagina echoing through the thin membrane, he gripped her hips in his hands and drove completely in—his thick cock buried inside her snug, virgin ass while she screamed, half with orgasmic pleasure, the other half in shocked pain.
Stroking her back and the globes of her bottom he whispered, “I’m sorry. It always hurts the first time. But I will bring you pleasure, I promise.” And he did, using his cock and his hands, pulling out and driving back inside the sensitive passage, playing with her clit and teasing her until Sarel was screaming and begging for release.
Sarel fell from her hands to her chest, unable to hold herself up. Eli kept his grip on her hips, otherwise she would have fallen completely. She shuddered and moaned, feeling him spread her wide so that he could burrow back inside. It made her scream. His fingers pinched her clit again, and she thought she would die.
Then his cock pulled out and she moved back, seeking more, loving the moan she heard from him, loving the pleasure she sensed inside him. He filled her, full, too full in her bottom, but not just there, inside her soul, inside her mind. She felt his arms come around her and pull her back and up so that she was pinned upright against his body as he drove his cock up into her ass.
Putting his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “Three centuries. I have waited three centuries for you, Sarel. I could not have waited much longer. I love you, to the bottom of my soul, for all eternity.”
Shuddering as his last thrust drove her over, his hot semen spurted into her sensitive sheath as he was whispering against her ear. “I love you, Eli,” she whimpered, twisting her head around to catch his mouth.
Their tongues tangled and magic exploded around them as the climax broke over them.
Eli eased their shuddering bodies down to the bed and hugged her tightly to him. His body was shaking so badly it felt like the bed was moving from it, Eli mused, burying his face in her damp, sweaty hair.
Sarel’s quivering body jumped when a fist started banging on the door and Eli snarled, glaring over his shoulder. Covering Sarel’s naked body with a blanket, he turned just as Malachi threw it open.
“Mother of God, Eli, the next time you plan on fucking your little witch into the next world, make sure she doesn’t bring the house down around us,” he boomed, his dark-blue eyes blazing. There was more mirth than anger in his gaze.
But it was then that Eli realized that it was Sarel’s magic that was making the house shake.
“Bloody hell,” he mused, falling back onto the bed and pulling her up against him.
She blushed furiously and forced the wild magic back down inside. “I’m sorry,” she muttered as Malachi closed the door, his laughter following him down the hall.
Eli grinned weakly. “Maybe we can find a spell to counter it.”
“We will,” she swore solemnly, wincing a bit as she shifted to find a more comfortable position.
Eli’s hand stroked her hair. “I love you,” he whispered. More to hear her answer than anything.
She smiled against his chest and said, “I love you,” before snuggling against him.
And then he closed his eyes and for the first time in years, when the moon rose, he didn’t.
Chicago
Byron watched as Kit strolled past his door, the t-shirt she wore barely covering her rounded rump.
She glanced at him, her eyes cool, her face blank.
In his lap, he held Korine, one of the young weres he had brought into the house only a few months earlier.
It was nearly midnight.
Kit’s door closed and Byron lowered his mouth back to Kori’s neck, and wished—again—that it was Kit he held.
But the Inherent wolf wasn’t for him.
Not ever.
The Hunters: Byron and Kit
by
Shiloh Walker
First digital printing 2004
Please note: This is the original 2004 version—it has been edited. Some new material has been added, but the basic story remains the same.
The Hunters: Byron and Kit
© Copyright Shiloh Walker, 2004
Cover Art Angela Waters
Prologue
Byron stared down at the pain-racked body of Kristof Beauchamp and wasn’t sure if he could fight off his rage much longer. The man responsible was in this house and Byron would see to it that he paid. But his duty, through friendship, was here, by his dying friend’s side.
“Katrine…will you take care of her? So young, she is, and now alone…”
Byron held tight to Kristof’s hand and broke a promise. The Inherent was so battered in body, so injured—the vampire doubted the shifter would even notice. As Byron slid inside and separated the pain from the man, Kris was able to breathe and think without the pain caused by the silver and poison.
“I’ll take care of the girl as though she were my own,” Byron promised, smoothing back Kris’s sweat-tangled hair. The air stank of the poison that was eating through Kris’s body and Byron shoved his fury under control again. Silver and wolfsbane…a carefully made poison that served only one purpose, and it was exactly what it sounded like. It had been put inside a hollow silver bullet that had exploded on impact with Kris’s body and even now was eating away at him like acid.
“She will not be a girl always. What then?” Kris asked, his accent thick with his weariness.
“I’ll see to it that Kit has everything her heart desires,” Byron promised. “She will want for nothing.”
Kris laughed, and when he did blood leaked from his mouth. “My Bella is telling me…da, you had best remember that. Kit will want what she wants. Da.” His combined French and Russian upbringing made his accent, at times, difficult to understand. Bella? The lady had died in childbirth three years earlier. “Ah, my Bella. I see you now. But Katrine. To leave her, my bebè, my heart breaks.”
“Go to Bella,” Byron whispered roughly, feeling tears sting his eyes. He could hear the baby crying. The h
earing of an Inherent child was sharp, and she had heard her father. One of his people should have taken her away. They’d be lucky if heads didn’t roll for letting the baby be upset this way.
“I will take care of Kit, I promise. I will do everything in my power to see her happy.”
Chapter One
Twenty-four years later…
“…that's it, baby girl…take it…relax…”
Kit gritted her teeth as she listened to that low, husky male voice.
She knew that voice.
Loved that voice.
Prayed to hear that voice murmuring to her, just like that.
But it wasn't happening. Right now, the rat-bastard was talking to one of his humans.
Fine. It was nothing new, she told herself. Focusing on the spreadsheet on the screen of her Mac, she continued with the paperwork, one of the many tedious jobs she was had to attend to as the second-in-command here.
All the while, the man she loved fucked another woman. And Byron wasn't alone. One of the other Hunters was playing with them. Bastards. The lot of them.
Groaning, she snatched her iPod off the desk and turned it on, plugging the earbuds into her ears and turning it up. The low, raw sound of Marc Cohn's voice blasted out, doing something to block out the sounds of sex and heat and everything she really, really wanted to have for herself.
She had four minutes of blissful respite.
And then she felt the vibrations of footsteps, heard somebody speaking. Scented the change in the air.
Looking up, she saw one of the humans that lived at the Enclave. The man had a note in his hand. He held it out to her, nervously. And as she took it, he whirled around and ran off.
Her gut clenched as she looked down and read it.
Come to my office. Immediately…Byron.
She frowned.
That was Byron's handwriting, alright.
It smelled like him.
Tugging out the earbuds, she shifted her gaze upright.
Heard the sounds of sex.
Carefully, she turned off the iPod. Stood up.
Why was he doing this?
Over the sound of Melissa's whimpering cry, he heard the sound of footsteps. Harder to smell as much, over the scent of her blood…he'd just fed. Add to that the scents of sex and sweat and it was just harder to filter through it all.
But when the door opened, his mind almost tumbled to a halt.
What the—
Kit.
He stilled beneath her, hands braced on Melissa's hips.
Ben, kneeling behind Melissa, continued to move, oblivious.
Oh, shit—
He waited for the door to shut, braced to pull away. Damn it, what in the hell—
But Kit sauntered inside and flung herself into the chair by the fireplace, her eyes flashing fire. Her lip trembled a little as she glared at him.
And then, without saying a word, she tugged her skirt up. Revealing blood red panties.
Blood roared in his ears as she slipped her hand inside that red silk.
Craning his head around to watch her, he jerked his hips, driving upward into Melissa's waiting pussy. Melissa whimpered, but he wasn't even aware.
As Kit's fingers disappeared, he bit back a groan.
She wasn't doing this…
But she was.
And as she started to stroke herself, he found himself staring at her hand. Unable to look away.
The one woman he wanted.
The one woman he couldn't have.
“You!”
Melissa finally managed to lurch to her feet. Ben stood in the background, watching in silence, while Byron leaned against his desk, still staring at Kit. She'd stroked herself to climax. Damn it, he wanted to go to her, catch her hand in his and lick the essence of her from her fingertips.
Instead, he stood there, trying to piece together just what had happened.
Kit hadn't come in by accident.
He couldn't read her mind.
The mind of a shapeshifter was a strange thing and he couldn't pierce it.
But Melissa was mortal. One he'd fed from, often. She was an open book. A deceitful one.
“You fucking pervert!” Melissa hissed, glaring at Kit who still lounged in the chair, her eyes heavy-lidded, her hand resting low on her belly, skirt rucked up, a smile on her mouth.
It wasn't a replete smile, though.
It was sharp-edged; jagged, like broken glass.
As Melissa lunged for her, Ben moved, coming up off the floor with the blurring speed of a shifter, catching her before she moved five feet.
Kit just laughed.
“Oh, come on, Melissa. What did you expect me to do? Just stand there? Byron apparently wanted me to see this little show. I might as well enjoy it.”
“I didn't call you here,” Byron said softly.
She slanted a look at him, her eyes narrowed.
Her nostrils flared.
She'd know if he lied. Scents changed with lies. But he wouldn't lie to her. Not to Kit. Not ever. He might not tell her how he felt, but he wouldn't lie to her.
As Ben turned to look at him, puzzled, Byron focused on Melissa's face. “Melissa, why were you in my office earlier today?”
She whipped her head around, staring at him.
And he pushed inside her mind.
Saw the answers for himself.
Pulling back, he closed his eyes. “Melissa, you're no longer welcome here. Kit, my apologies for this…deception. Ben, escort Melissa to her rooms and let Nick know to start preparing for her departure.”
Melissa started to cry.
And Kit…she just stared at him.
Stared at him, while the rich, ripe scents of her arousal perfumed the air, teasing his hunger.
Chapter Two
Kit tapped her pen on the table and stared at the disheveled woman in front of her. “I warned you, Melissa. Byron made himself clear on this issue. You're leaving. I can't intervene for you.” Nor would I.
Seriously, what was this woman thinking?
Although Kit had done this many, many times, this was a first.
Melissa had intentionally set that debacle up, something Kit now knew.
Although, in truth, Kit had done this thing a number of times in the past few years. Too many times.
Byron discarded women the way she discarded shoes, it seemed. He wasn't unkind with it, but he also couldn't keep women around for more than a few months. Especially mortals.
Mortals who spent too much time around a vampire, for feeding, for sex, sometimes got addicted to it, and that wasn't good for either party.
It wasn't any help that Byron was just plain addictive period and Kit didn't think it had anything to do with the vampiric pull, either. The sexual pull a vampire exuded was always intensified after he’d touched one particular woman. Byron would have been intoxicating to a mortal, she knew it.
For a little while, Melissa had been his favorite and now…well. She was just shit out of luck.
Studying the unhappy blonde in front of her, she figured they finally had something in common.
After what had happened, Kit figured she had every reason to hate the woman in front of her. And she was pissed off. Miserably jealous. Hell, Melissa had shared Byron's bed. Shared his affections.
But then she'd screwed up. And Byron was pissed. So very pissed.
Byron wouldn't trust her again, and if Melissa thought Kit was intervening on her behalf, she was messed up.
This was one mess Kit wasn't responsible for, a mess she wasn't cleaning up.
She'd had him, Kit thought, disgusted. Had Byron all to herself, for all that time. And then she'd started thinking maybe she could keep him. Or whatever crazed idea had gone through her head. Kit just didn't know.
For more than a year, Melissa had shared Byron's bed. A year. Then Kit had slipped up.
It had all started because of Kit's inadvertent watching. Maybe it was fitting that was what ended this, she mused.
“Isn't there anything you can do?” Melissa whispered, staring at Kit, eyes swollen, nose red.
“No.” Kit turned her head, staring out the window as she thought back.
A year ago. It had only been a year.
She had walked into his office thinking he had business to discuss, and instead she had been audience to a blowjob. Granted, somebody had given her the wrong fucking time. He had wanted to talk to her in a couple of hours, but for crying out loud.
Well, it really wasn’t his fault.
She could still remember it, how Melissa had sucked on Byron’s cock, and how much Kit wanted to be the one doing it. Byron had opened his eyes—he had known she was there—and glared at her. “Do you mind, Kit?”
“Not at all, Byron. I like to watch,” she had drawled. Well, she hadn’t ever really watched anything like that before, but she hadn’t really been able to leave either. Her eyes were drawn to the length of his cock as Melissa slid her lips up and down, pulling back to stare at Kit with wide eyes before resuming what looked to be a very pleasant task.
His fangs flashed and she suspected part of him wanted to tell her to get the fuck out. But another part was aroused. He had gripped Melissa head’s tightly and started to rock his hips faster, forcing his cock farther and harder into her mouth until he came. Kit’s sharp sense of smell caught it in the air and she stared at him, so hot she burned.
He’d made his human pass out. “That’s the bad thing about humans, Byron. They just can’t handle as much,” Kit said, tsking a little, clucking false sympathy.
That was when things had started to change, at least on his end. And for Melissa.
The Hunters Series Page 28