Twilight Hunter eu-1 Page 7

  She trembled with each lick. He damn near lost his mind when she whimpered. The urge to take her hard and deep was overpowering. His dick pulsed with eagerness, and he shoved her up the bed until her shoulders hit the headboard, releasing the tension tugging at her wrists. He wrenched at the handcuffs. The wood of the bedposts creaked, and he squeezed until the metal broke.

  Holy shit.

  He let go of the broken handcuffs, impressed by his own strength. He glanced at Princess and paused. Shit. She could fight him now and he would be totally off his game. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him, not even bothering to try to escape. All his stray thoughts disappeared, and he focused on dominating her. If she needed pleasure so badly, he would give it to her. God help them both.

  Jace grabbed hold of her thighs and dragged her down the bed. Moving with languid speed, he flipped her over and her body hit the mattress. He gripped the curves of her hips, then slid his hands up her sides.

  He lifted her so her back was flush against his chest, gripping her throat with one hand. “Say you want it.”

  Nothing but a pleasured groan escaped her.

  “Tell me you want it.”

  Her heartbeat was rapid but steady; his own heart matched the same pulsating rhythm.

  “I want it,” she whispered.

  Nuzzling into her neck, he inhaled her luscious scent. He caught sight of her delicious breasts, the pink tips shining where his lips had taken them. He pushed her onto the bed again, reached beneath her and massaged her right breast. He ran his thumb over her nipple, and she gasped. He pulled her ass closer to his hips and bent over her.

  “Louder.”

  Her spine arched, and her muscles tensed in anticipation. “I want it.”

  “Like you mean it.” His fingers dug into her sides, and he slid his cock between her thighs. He ran the length of his shaft over her warm center. She writhed and ground her ass into him.

  “Fuck me.” She was breathless, panting.

  “What was that?” He rubbed across her slit again and chuckled as she moaned.

  “Please,” she gasped. “Jace, fuck me.”

  “You better hold on to something, Princess.”

  She grabbed the sides of the mattress, and he thrust into her in one stroke, filling her to the max. She fit around him perfectly; her core hugged him in all the right spots.

  Holy hell.

  She was tight. A sexual hunger more intense than he’d ever experienced raced through him. He had to take her. Hard. Fast.

  Without warning, he pounded into her. With each loud smack, the heat rose and they both teetered on the edge of ecstasy.

  Her muscles tightened around him, and the bed creaked underneath the blows. Her legs shook as she started to climax. He clamped his hands tight on her hips and stopped moving.

  “Jace...”

  He ran his hand over the curve of her behind, scanning the view of him sheathed inside her. His cock was held tight and bathed in her wetness. “Don’t come until I tell you to.”

  “I can’t stop. I—”

  He let out a low growl. He wanted to flip her over, pull her against him and nip at her collarbone, but pleasuring her while watching her gorgeous behind, seeing the curve of her back arch in ecstasy, was too sweet. “You will stop, and you’ll be thanking me later and begging for more.”

  He slammed into her, and even with his hands holding her sexy hips, she staggered underneath his strength.

  “More, Jace.”

  Running one of his hands down her side, he groped her ass and she slickened.

  Damn, fucking her was sweet bliss. Her legs and ass vibrated against his hips. With one large hand, he cradled her in place. His pace and force increased with each move.

  “Jace,” she panted. “I...I can’t...”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “I...”

  He exhaled a long hiss. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

  “Oh...I...make me...” She moaned and shoved her hips into him.

  “All right, I’ll settle for that.”

  He pulled out of her and flipped her over on the bed. Wrapping her legs around him, he slipped deep inside her. Heat flowed from her core. His cock throbbed, and he strained as he held himself back from explosion.

  “Come for me,” he growled.

  At his words, her body shook. Waves of ecstasy rolled over them both. His warmth rushed into her, and he bent down and kissed her hard. Her hands ran down his shoulders, and the sugary taste of her lips made him groan. He couldn’t get enough. It would never be enough. He wanted all of her, and now that had her, he needed her like he needed air.

  “Say my name, Jace.” Her words came out as a breathy moan.

  When he broke away, her golden eyes filled with a craving for more than just sex.

  His heart jumped, and his stomach flipped. “Francesca,” he whispered. A large lump crawled into his throat.

  Damn it. He was so fucking screwed.

  * * *

  ROBERT SIPPED THE first few drinks of his Bombay Sapphire martini as he scanned the sea of worthless bodies filling the club. The multicolored strobe lights flashed through the room, and the bass beat thumped in his ears as a crowd began to gather.

  A blonde whore whose hair color and tan both looked like they’d come straight out of a bottle flipped her long locks around while one of the DJs poured water over her body. The crowd of mostly twentysomething males howled and yelled. The bitch smoothed her hands over her shirt, making sure to plaster the white T-shirt to her surgically enhanced chest and show off her hard, cold nipples. Robert took another sip of his martini.

  Cold. Exactly how he liked his women.

  Turning back toward the bar, he eyed two females a few seats down. A pretty little brunette and a long-legged redhead. They giggled as they leaned over their drinks. A grin spread across his lips. He’d seen wide, happy eyes like that before. The eyes of young girls. They were new to the club scene. Very fresh meat.

  He slipped off his bar stool and snaked his way toward them. Long-legs smiled at the bartender and yelled over the music, “Hey, can I get a masturbating butterfly?”

  The girls laughed as the bartender said, “Coming right up,” and winked at them.

  The server walked away, leaving Robert with ample opportunity. Time for the show. He plastered a charming smile across his face and positioned himself next to the redhead. This would be all too easy.

  He propped himself against the bar. “Could I buy you ladies a round of drinks?”

  He saw the brunette roll her eyes. “Why don’t you just go—”

  Both women turned toward him. The look in their eyes transitioned from annoyed to intrigued as soon as they saw his face.

  The wonders of being an extremely attractive man.

  Their eyes scanned the length of his body, moving from his chestnut hair to his handsome face and ice-blue eyes, then raked over the thick muscles of his abdomen. He couldn’t help but grin. Women made it all too easy—wanting him as soon as he made eye contact.

  After several moments, he cleared his throat. “So, about those drinks?”

  “Oh.” Long-legs turned to the brunette. They both giggled incessantly. “Sure,” she said. “I’ve already ordered my drink, though.”

  The bartender returned at that precise moment. “Here you are, miss.” He passed her a drink.

  Robert slipped a hundred-dollar bill onto the bar before she had time to protest. “These ladies’ drinks are on me.”

  The bartender nodded and took the bill. He hurried to the cash register.

  “Thank you.” The redhead batted her eyelashes as she sipped her drink.

  He held out his hand. “My name’s Robert.”

  She lightly shook his hand. “Monica.”

  “And how about you?” Robert glanced at the petite brunette.

  The girls broke out into another fit of giggles. “My name’s Jill,” the brunette said.

  Robert fa
ked a smile. “Well, may I get you something, Jill? I’d hate to leave you out.”

  Jill bit her lower lip, and several stray strands of hair fell into her face. She hooked her arm through Monica’s.

  Skin like porcelain on both of them. They would both look stunning drenched in red.

  Jill glanced at Monica. “I don’t usually drink.”

  Monica nodded. “She hates the taste of alcohol.”

  Robert drank more of his martini and stepped closer to them. “Well, I just so happen to be an ex-bartender,” he said, lying through his teeth. “I bet I could find something you like. Little to no alcohol taste.”

  Monica gave Jill a small nudge with her elbow.

  “Sure,” Jill said. She met his eyes.

  Hazel brown—they would be gorgeous as the light faded from them. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and his dick stiffened. “I bet you’d like something sweet and feminine, something with vodka, whose taste can be easily masked.” He stepped toward her and took her hand in his. Her eyes widened as he laid a kiss on her skin. He inhaled her scent. Vanilla perfume.

  “I know just the thing.” He let his warm breath linger before he pulled back and flagged down the bartender. Robert nodded toward Jill. “This pretty woman would like a chocolate martini. Equal parts vanilla vodka and crème de cacao. And if you could add just a dash of Godiva liqueur after you’ve mixed it, it would be greatly appreciated.”

  The bartender nodded and stepped away.

  “How do you know I’ll like that?” Jill asked.

  He smiled at her. “You smell sweet, like vanilla. It seemed like a good guess that you’d like the taste, as well.”

  The girls exchanged excited glances.

  Robert set down his empty glass. “How about this? If you don’t like the drink, I’ll buy you another. Anything you like. But if you do like it, you’ll agree to dance with me. Just one song.”

  Jill nodded. “Deal.”

  The bartender came back and handed Jill her chocolate martini. She lifted the drink to her soft pink lips and tasted. Her eyes widened, and she glanced from Monica to Robert. “That’s delicious.”

  Monica’s jaw dropped, and she touched Robert’s arm. “You’ve done the impossible. I’ve never been able to find a drink she likes.”

  Robert smiled and held out his hand to Jill. “You owe me a dance.”

  Her grin spread from ear to ear. She gave Monica her drink to hold and placed her hand in his, letting him lead her onto the dance floor.

  He could tell already that this was going to be a great night.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AFTER HER LONG night with Jace, Frankie stared at the ceiling of the apartment and sighed, sinking into the old mattress, which enveloped her like a huge cocoon. She glanced to her right, where Jace lay next to her, sleeping. He was an Alpha, a warrior in every sense. But when he slept his chiseled features softened. She stared at his peaceful face, and her heart melted. The hard stare he normally wore, filled with overwhelming anger and suppressed rage, had disappeared.

  She relaxed into the comfort of the bed and thought of the burning fire that had blazed behind his eyes when they’d been intertwined. He was good—damn good. Those large muscular arms, his silky auburn hair, and those toned abs he’d put to such good use... She’d peaked faster and harder than she ever had. His touch had sent ecstasy coursing through her veins, and she’d ridden on a natural high for so long she hadn’t been able to think of anything but him.

  He stirred, and her whole body tensed. Rolling over on his side, he flopped on the mattress, his deep sleep unbroken. She bit her lower lip. As much as she longed to stay by his side, she knew better. Her loyalty lay with her pack.

  I can’t leave them.

  This could be her last chance to escape.

  Placing her feet on the ground, she slid off the bed. The hardwood floor squealed underneath her, and she froze.

  Nothing. He didn’t even twitch. She snatched his shirt off the floor and pulled it on. The smell of the material wafted into her nose—cigarettes, whiskey, musky cologne and the woodsy scent of his skin. She clutched the shirt to her body without buttoning it.

  Tiptoeing to the door, she grabbed the handle and it creaked open. Thank goodness he hadn’t locked the door from the inside again after he’d stormed back up last night. A sliver of light from the hallway crept in. She paused and considered turning around. A large lump filled her throat. The way they’d made love had been so intimate, so personal. But now she was leaving, without him even knowing her real name. She swallowed past the pain and hurried out the door before she could change her mind.

  The latch clicked, and she rushed down the stairs. Her spine cracked into place, courtesy of Jace’s inventive positions. She couldn’t even count how many times they’d done the horizontal mambo or a variety of other dances that burned up the sheets. She grinned, but the wave of sadness caught back up with her, washing her smile away. She jogged from the building, the cold night air nipping at her hot skin.

  She scanned the area. How would she get home? Streetlights tinted the concrete orange. Cars, trash cans and buildings. No people.

  Hot-wire a car or shift?

  She eyed the Hummer, then remembered that it had an alarm. Glancing over her surroundings one more time, she stripped off the shirt, knelt to the ground and concentrated on the adrenaline buzz.

  The burn erupted inside her, and she winced at the feeling of her bones snapping, her appendages ripping apart. The excruciating pain led to relief when her fur sprouted into place, blocking out the cold air. The usual heightened smells and sounds barreled over her senses. She let out a breath and collected herself, then bolted down the road. The calluses on the pads of her paws scuffed against the pavement.

  She ran for blocks, until her muscles strained. The thought of her home, her warm bed, soft sheets and silky nightgown comforted her. She wanted to fall onto her mattress and curl up into a ball, but she had something to do first. She rounded the final corner, then dashed down the alleyway. The backpack sat exactly where she left it, untouched. She had to move quickly in case the cops were nearby, checking out the body. One whiff and she knew she was in the clear, but that could change.

  Moving behind the Dumpster, she crouched down on her hind legs. Her wolf form filled her with adrenaline, and she thrived on the energy. She focused on the calm in the eye of the storm and allowed herself to shift into her human skin. She fell against the wall of a bakery, exhausted.

  Exhaling a long breath, she grabbed her clothes, and pulled on the jeans, tank top and jacket. She left her jewelry and lingerie in the backpack. She didn’t give a shit about a bra.

  Home. Bed.

  That was all she wanted. There she could escape the sadness and anxiety balling up in her chest. Why had she slept with Jace?

  A one-night stand?

  She wasn’t that kind of girl. She’d worked hard not to be.

  She threw the bag over her shoulder and sprinted down the road toward her apartment. It wasn’t far. When she reached the entrance, she jammed the key into the lock and fumbled with the handle.

  She scrambled up the stairs, then strode down the hallway to her door.

  Finally.

  Her muscles weakened, threatening to collapse. She pushed the door open and stopped. Her keys hit the floor.

  “No. No. No. This isn’t... No.” Her eyes locked onto the phrase painted across her wall. Bile rose up in her throat, and her stomach flipped.

  * * *

  A LOUD BATTLE CRY rose above the sounds of clashing swords, drowning out the noises of the surrounding forest. A large man decorated in the skins of a wolf towered over the beautiful woman standing before him. His weapon pushed against hers. Despite his size, she shoved against his blade with the strength to match his.

  “Just give up, you Valkyrie whore. You’ll never beat me, Freyja.”

  As she spun with her sword in hand, golden hair swirling around her shoulders, Freyja’s sword collide
d with the man’s shield. “The Brighasmann is mine and mine alone, Loki. I’ll be more than happy to kill you for it.”

  A sneer crossed Loki’s face, and a deep growl ripped from his throat. “If you so much as wound my flesh, I will destroy your precious warriors one by one.”

  Freyja let out a scream so loud and shrill the ground beneath them shook. “You won’t be able to touch them. They’re too powerful to destroy.” She gritted her teeth and slashed her sword across his body. The edge of her blade bit into his arm.

  He stumbled back, clutching his wound. Blood gushed from the tear. “I am the God of Mischief. I can’t destroy them, but I will wreak havoc in their lives until they destroy one another.” He grinned, then began to chuckle hysterically. “Look into my eyes and see for yourself.”

  Freyja met Loki’s gaze. Reflected in his eyes, Jace lay in the middle of a pool of blood while the light faded from his emerald pupils.

  * * *

  JACE JOLTED AWAKE. Cold sweat poured over his skin as he snapped upright, and he fought to calm his breathing. Fuck. The dreams had gotten the best of him again. He flopped back down onto the bed with a sigh, eyes closed. He wracked his brain to remember the names of the man and woman. Damn. The image of himself lying dead and bloody invaded his thoughts. It was so vivid. If he could just get back to sleep... Without nightmares.

  He rolled onto his side and tried to let sleep reclaim him, but it was no use. He lay there, still groggy, until his bedside alarm blared like a damn foghorn. He cracked one eye open and glared at the clock. 3:00 p.m. He smacked at the buttons until he hit the right one. Why the hell had he set the alarm to go off this early in the afternoon? A nocturnal creature in all senses of the word, he waged an ongoing war against the sun, vowing to ignore its existence.

  He sat up and stretched, his muscles tight. What the hell had he done last night? He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced down at his morning wood.