by Billi Jean
“Oh, oh!” she cried and let him push her legs to her chest and dig in, so out of control he could barely think as the explosion of sensations—of Hunter—surrounded him. She was small, so pretty and pink he groaned heavily, feeling his body jacking up to that crazy gonna-come-any-second-state. He sucked along the outer lips, so turned-on by how responsive she was he had to reach down and soothe his cock. When he found her clit hidden under the plump little mound, he gently traced his tongue around it.
Hunter suddenly gripped handfuls of his hair, and it wasn’t to tug him up. Her groan broke the silence and he flicked her just once, driving his finger gently into her pussy as he did. She tensed as he sucked and licked, but her legs started trembling before she clamped down on him with a shocked-sounding inhalation that ended in a moan he could listen to for centuries.
His cock jerked, so ready he feared coming right then and there.
Hunter pulled on him when he continued to lick the little nub, until, with a whisper of his name, she got him up.
“I want Big Rickie, all of him, now,” she demanded breathlessly, clearly more than ready to take matters into her own hands if he didn’t.
He nearly shot off. It was so close he had to grind his teeth and breathe through his nose not to just give himself one stroke along the supersensitive head of his cock and come all over her stomach and rounded breasts.
“Rick,” she moaned, sliding her legs along his ribs and anchoring her pussy to his throbbing hard-on. “Now!”
“Shit,” he groaned. There was no thought, just an urgency he’d never experienced—except with her. He held her hips tightly and as carefully as he could he positioned himself by feel alone. Hunter shivered and sucked on his shoulder in a sob as he pressed forward past her resistance and deeper inside her wet heat.
“Sorry, sorry.” He could barely hold on. “Feels so amazing.”
She gripped his face and kissed him. That was all the permission he needed. He surged forward and seconds later, his boys drew up and his body took over. He fell on her and began pistoning his hips. The pleasure rose, swallowing him whole as he drove his cock into paradise. Just like before.
Hunter, my Hunter, surrounded him with tight, silky heat. It was as if she’d sucked him in. He couldn’t catch his breath as he came harder and harder. The only thing he could do was let it go and try not to hurt her with his weight.
“Sorry, sorry, baby, sorry.” He tried to stay quiet, but with each lush ripple of his orgasm words spilled from his lips. When he could see straight, embarrassment rushed along his spine, followed closely by horror. “Holy hell, baby, sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whispered breathlessly into her neck, not quite sure how he’d done this to her again
He was the man here. He should give her ten orgasms to his one, not fall on her like a wild ape and do the crazy with her.
“I liked it.”
Like hell, he wanted to say, but didn’t. “You’re going to like this more,” he assured her instead.
“Rick we should go, don’t you think?” she argued, tensing when he didn’t move. No way was he leaving her sweet little pussy without giving her one hell of a climax, on him, not his finger.
“Rick?”
He took matters into his own hands. There were times in life when instinct alone guided him. This was one those times. He pulled her legs together, lifted her, and positioned her on her side. As soon as he could, he leaned over and started a nice and slow rhythm with his hips that made her breasts bounce. Unable to resist, he latched on to one of her nipples and drew on it.
Within seconds, Hunter wasn’t protesting, not that she had been. She started to gasp with each impact. He went balls-deep, taking his cues from her, but going slowly and steadily. He made sure that each time he thrust, he added a firm jolt so she got the full dose of him. He was big, but he had girth and a curve to his length that, if he paid attention, he could use to find the G-spot on even the most reluctant woman.
Hunter wasn’t reluctant. As soon as she felt something pleasurable, she cried out in surprise.
“Oh, yeah, tell me. Tell me, baby,” he cooed into her soft boobs. He licked each inch of the round globes and tunneled his way in and out of her sweet pussy. “Give in, baby. I can keep this up all day,” he warned, even though he was seriously ready to come and make himself a liar. He didn’t understand it, because he always had firm control of himself, but it was as if the head was getting one hell of a treat with each drive forward and pull backward. If she ever did sweep those sweet lips over his cock, he’d probably last ten seconds, tops.
Hunter stiffened on his next pass, and when he added the additional grind, she cried out, sounding so startled, he bounced her just a little harder. She was close. He ducked his head and pressed his face to hers then gently bit on the column of her slender throat.
She clenched—hard, over and over, until he swore he could feel each ripple of her orgasm, growing bigger instead of easing. He didn’t move, letting her clamp down until he felt her draw a breath, then he caught her lips and kissed her. She gasped into his mouth, drawing him down with a grip on his head.
Her passionate kiss had him panting, needing to come so badly he tugged her legs higher to her chest and curled his arms around them and her and let his body take over.
Hunter orgasmed within the first few seconds.
That was all he could stand.
He watched her breasts jiggle as his body joined hers. He curled his toes into the mattress and fell on her, even though he’d told himself not to. Lost in the pleasure, he groaned louder when she began caressing his back and sides, eagerly kissing his face until she found his lips, then kissing him so desperately he couldn’t do anything but let her as he emptied himself into her again.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Can you explain why Aubrey is in Scotland, but won’t answer her phone?” Sorcha asked as soon as Trouble picked up.
Trouble shot Torque a glance from where he was studying a map of the Alaskan compound and moved a bit away to talk privately with Sorcha. Jack followed her with his eyes, but stayed put.
“I guess she might not be in Scotland Scotland, if you catch my drift.”
“No, no I don’t catch your drift. There are things happening here, Circerran, things I am beginning to sense aren’t right. They’re so not right, in fact, I can feel it in the soles of my boots.”
“Okay, so…what kind of things?” Trouble had a list a mile long, Hunter being only one of them. In two days’ time they were supposed to appear, with or without her, at the Conclave, again. This time, she doubted even Aubrey could sway them from making a decision.
“There’s something wrong with the Seals.”
Trouble blinked. Jack stood and walked over, no doubt sensing how freaked she was at her sister’s announcement. The Seals were essential. Absolutely vital if their coven was to move and move successfully. The legend, which she knew was much more, was that the Seals protected their lands, and kept her line intact. If something were to go wrong with them… “What kind of wrong are we talking?”
“I don’t know. Aubrey sensed it right away but she left,” Sorcha muttered. “I tried to get her to listen, but she told me to stay here with Alex and not leave until she returned. Now, I know and you know she’s strong, and yes, ancient, but she’s young.”
“And shouldn’t be ordering you around?” Trouble asked, not even bothering to hide her laugh. Sorcha must have heard it because she grumbled something in an aside, away from the phone, at least. “Come on. When does Aubrey do anything without a reason? She must have had one. Where did she go?”
“I don’t know. I stayed here.”
Cute, Sorcha with attitude. All she needed. She glanced at Jack, and he grinned. He also wrapped his arm around her, soothing her worry that easily. He kissed her top of her head.
“Your sister’s feisty today, huh?” His excellent hearing could be a problem sometimes, but other times it was a bonus. Like now.
“A bit,” s
he agreed, then focused back on Sorcha. “I sent…or rather, Aubrey informed me, that under no circumstances could Lucifer trump Arawn over Hunter’s life after death. She believed Arawn, not Lucifer, set her free and marked her. I wasn’t there most of the time, I know, but Hunter was and is a Jade witch. How is it possible she has a house and was raised within miles of our coven? How is that something we missed?”
Sorcha sniffed, but Trouble knew her sister was thinking about the problem. Sorcha was much more relaxed now, happier, Trouble knew, but she had been the coven leader for centuries, and letting go of that kind of control wasn’t easy. Even if she’d given over leadership to live with Alex and find some happiness, she was still a strong woman and one of the most powerful witches Hunter had ever met.
“Were her parents Jade?” Sorcha finally asked.
“No, well…” Trouble resisted the urge to bite her nails, since Jack said that was her sign she was freaking out. She wasn’t, but then again, maybe she was. Hunter was breaking her heart. “Kincaid says she was raised by some freaky folks who abused her,” she finally said. Big surprise there. Trouble had spotted that about the young witch right off, but to hear it from Jack, Kincaid was hinting at more than physical abuse. “She’s also not over fifty. She’s only twenty-six. So what do we know about any of ours, pregnant twenty-five or twenty-six, not fifty-six years ago?”
“Twenty-six years ago?” Sorcha said so faintly Trouble sat down, thankful there was a chair, and let Jack take her hand. When Sorcha spoke like that, it wasn’t good.
“What? What is it, Cir?” Jack demanded.
She shook her head and just held his hand tightly.
“Oh sweet Bridget, twenty- five ”—Sorcha stressed the five—“years ago, Melody disappeared.”
Melody. The image of the beautiful, talented blonde witch flashed through Trouble’s mind, along with how she’d found her—or her charred remains—not far from the coven, miles really, some twenty years ago. Hunter was Melody’s child?
“She has similar flows of magic, the same hair, same delicate frame.”
But her eyes. Melody’s had been brown like chestnuts. Melody had also been filled with light, song and laughter.
Hunter. Was Hunter her daughter? But why? Why take Melody?
She’d been in the middle of a five-pointed star. They’d assumed it was Death Stalkers, but what if it was something else? What if all this, from Melody’s disappearance to Hunter’s oath with Satan that nearly kept the Fire Realm in hell for another millennium, was all something driven by Satan? Who had more time on his hands than that guy? He’d crafted a Jade witch to be evil, to get in and find a way into everyone’s hearts, then used her to try and keep his thumb on the Fire Kingdom—maybe more.
“This is big,” Jack said next to her. Their bond had grown exponentially, and with it, the lack of needing to use words. “We have to bring Agni in and Moon. Aubrey, too. I’ll send Grayson to find her.”
“I agree with Jack,” Sorcha said, obviously possessing the same excellent hearing as her man did. “She’s in danger. We all are, perhaps. Satan planned too long, for too much, to let her go this easily.”
“Hunter says Larisa, that Russian wolf, is one of Satan’s too,” Trouble added.
Sorcha muttered again in the phone.
Torque walked over, Beauty at his side, both wearing worried frowns.
“We’ll send Grayson,” Trouble said. “He’s got a knack for finding Aubrey. We need her to answer questions on the Seals, and I hope like heck she isn’t where I think she is.”
“Where is that?” Sorcha asked.
“Talking to Arawn, Lord of the Celtic Afterlife, or Death.”
* * * *
Hunter was sweaty, covered in Rick Kincaid, and never more amazed and pleased in all her life. Sex with Rick was mind-blowing.
“You like that thing I do with Little Rickie, huh?” he whispered, playfully thrusting ‘Little Rickie’ deeper when he almost slipped out.
“Oh, my god.” She was limp but still experiencing the shivering sensations he’d brought on by his lovemaking. “I love that thing. I never knew,” she whispered truthfully, feeling as if someone had just opened a new room of fun things to do. “Never realized,” she tried to explain, but he cut her off with a rough sound and one heck of a sexy kiss.
Rick lifted his head when he had her panting and stared at her. “Well, now that you’ve let me make that up to you, I hope you realize just who it is that can provide hours of fun for you, huh?”
He said that as if he were warning her, as if she might go elsewhere for a dose of toe curling, mind warping, panty dropping sexual fun. Insanity, but that was okay. A little crazy was acceptable with a cock like Rick Kincaid possessed. And a body. And hands. And a mind…
“Well?” He nudged with words and his hips.
“Am I supposed to think right now?” she murmured and drew him easily down to kiss him again. He came, so quickly, she guessed he might have worried she was going to go find someone else to have fun with. Like who?
She kissed him gently, licking at his lips then his mouth, until with an impatient grunt, he took over, kissing her into a state of wanting a round three, then he pulled away and frowned.
“We can’t do a round three. We have a lab to search.”
It was so in tune with what she was thinking it made her blink. He did that often, as if he could read her mind. But she’d done it, too, she noticed, more than once.
“Yes, I know,” she said when he rubbed his jaw along hers. She sighed. It felt so good. He felt so good, just touching and holding her. She could grow addicted to kissing Rick, or simply sleeping in his arms. She’d just spilled her guts to this man, and would probably tell him everything. He was bossy that way, but he was also a good listener. He’d heard most of the worst, and still stared her right in the eyes. That did things to her she couldn’t quite comprehend yet, but she feared it would be something huge.
“Once this is over, you want to go see about hiking Hawaii with me?”
“What?” she said before she could stop herself. He scanned her face.
“You heard me. I know you like the beach. Hawaii is great, but so are the Philippines. Been there?”
“I’m not going on vacation with you.” She pushed on his chest. He didn’t budge, but neither did that image of him walking with her and people wondering what was wrong with him for being with her. She’d be the ugly girl with the hot body.
“Sparky, I’m a gentleman, but I’m seconds away from bending you over my knee if what I think you’re thinking is what you’re thinking.”
“That makes as much sense as mud after a hurricane. Now, off me. You’re heavy.”
He grinned and didn’t move. He wasn’t on her. He was still holding himself up by his arms, the big show off. His hips were glued to hers, but he kept his weight from crushing her.
“Clear, clear as mud after a hurricane.” He ducked his head and stole a kiss. “So, let me see if I get your train of thought, and you hop off it if I’m right because I warn you, I don’t like what I’m thinking.”
She didn’t say a word. What is there to say?
“You don’t want to be seen with me.”
If she could have rolled her eyes, she would have. She settled for sighing heavily so he knew she was getting irritated. Of course he merely deepened his displeased frown. Shocking her, he suddenly stood and dragged her with him.
“Get dressed. We’re going shopping. I need some things.”
“We are not going—”
“We’re going shopping, Sparky. Put your pants on or go like that, but you’ll get more stares that way and I’ll have to beat some ass if anyone touches you—”
“I am not going naked,” she spluttered and marched to the bathroom. “Insanity usually runs in a family. Are your mom and dad crazy?”
“My mom says my dad is, but I think it’s just a late mid-life crisis. He likes cars, no big deal,” he muttered. “Can you gate us to L.A. so I ca
n check on my baby?”
She washed up, a little embarrassed when he walked in, but when he kissed her shoulder, the feeling disappeared. Staring at his handsome, if somewhat tousled, reflection in the mirror, she sighed and straightened his dark blond hair a bit.
“I’m not going shopping with you, not like this.”
“Good. Clothes are better. I wish we had a change here, but you can put on—”
“I’m not going shopping with you with my face like this.”
He crossed his arms and gave her a flat stare. “You are. And you’ll hold your head high too. And I’ll have my arm around your shoulders and you’ll—”
“No way, José. I am not—”
“Get dressed. We need to go. I told you once I’m not into the drama, but if you want some, we can have an all-out shouting match again. But after, I’m still taking you shopping and you’re still going to—”
She threw her hands up and pushed him until he moved out of the way. She got as far as her panties, jeans and bra before he was there, waiting, dressed and ready, but with the bandages in hand. He really was insistent on the bandages. Her stomach hurt a little, but of course the sex hadn’t. Go figure.
And yes, he was sexy, glowering at her, all soldier in charge again.
She sat without being told and waited. His frown made the skin above his nose bunch and he’d have wrinkles at this rate, but he also seemed less likely to yell at her. For some reason, him yelling at her really made her want to laugh. After. During their mini-shouting matches, she’d always been too angry.
“I’m glad you’re seeing sense at least.”
Of course, he has to have the last word. Rick would always want to have the last word, she guessed. Even with sex he had to have the last word. He could protest and be embarrassed until his dying day, and she’d still get a thrill out of shaking that cocky, I’m-going-to-give- you-a-wild-ride, when he’d teased her with a quickie. She knew he never meant it to literally be a quickie. That’s why it was so great.