Page 92 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
I go still, gasping and keeping my voice just as low as his. “How?”
“Must be masking their scents,” he murmurs. His knee wedges between my legs, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. Even when I’m scared—even in that second I doubted him—I can’t resist him.
They can strip everything else away…but we still have this.
Each other. Pleasure.Fire.
And they can’t take that from us.
I turn my head to meet his eyes, finding them red around the edges. He looks rough, haggard, like he’s been through the wringer.
“What happened?” I breathe.
And Javi…he lets it all out.
He tells me terrible things, all under his breath—bodies in the water, Gideon’s threats, Abel’s taunting. We stay lying in bed, speaking in whispers, not knowing who might be lurking outside the door or listening from the other side of the wall. They’ve taken every ounce of dignity, ever scrap of privacy.
We have to get out of here.
“They killed Boyd,” he whispers. “Fuck…they killed him?—”
“They didn’t,” I reply. “I heard from my pack. He got our message out.”
Javi bows his head against my shoulder.
“Thank God,” he murmurs.
“I don’t know when they’re coming,” I whisper. “But they will. I believe they will.”
Javi doesn’t answer at first. He just breathes against my shoulder, his lips moving with the rise and fall of my chest like he’s syncing himself to me. Then—softly—he grazes his teeth over the bite mark he left behind and brushes butterfly kisses into the curve of my neck, each one gentler than the last. Like he’s apologizing. Like he’s worshiping me.
I let out a soft, helpless sound—but he presses a finger to my lips.
“They want you punished,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Not pleasured. They don’t want me to love you.”
His words shiver through me, bitter and brutal. Because he’s right. Every smile, every kind word, every ounce of comfort—they want it gone. They want to reduce me to a docile, obedient thing. And they want to make him the one who does it.
I take his hand in mine and guide it to my waist, rolling my hips into his touch with slow, deliberate need. His brow furrows, the pressure of our bodies a question and an answer all at once.
“Then we’ll have to do a better job pretending,” I whisper, “because I’m not giving this up.”
His eyes darken. He looks at me like I’m the last bright thing in a dying world.
I bring his finger to my lips and suck it into my mouth—slowly, intimately, letting my tongue drag over the pad of it while I hold his gaze. He inhales sharply, his jaw flexing.
“Don’t make a sound, Peach,” he mumbles.
And even though we’re wrapped in darkness and danger and listening walls, I smile.
“I’ll do my best.”
21
JAVI
Seeing those awful things today made me feel like nothing could ever be right in the world—that I would have to treat her badly when I came back, just to keep her safe.
But being with Peaches again…I melt.
