Page 23 of The Hunt
Queen Anaya Moore has crossed our royal borders into wild territory.
The wards announced it, and the pain in my chest blooms the farther she moves from their protection. Rogues of every kind travel through the unclaimed territory, from wolves to vampires and the sworn enemies of her people. They roam free here; no laws exist outside of surviving by any means necessary.
“I’m going to turn that pretty little ass red, my precious one. You will learn this lesson.” In less than two seconds, I soar from a simmering anger to a red-hot, blood-boiling fury. My walk turns into the pounding of my feet, tearing through the forest until I reach the area of borderland where her scent burns the strongest.
My precious little fae walked through here.
Left me a gift, too.
A few steps from the ward line, a ribbon lies on the grass—lavender silk tied in that familiar teasing bow. The one she uses when she pretends she can control me. Top, when we both know she’s a sassy bottom with a penchant I indulge. Sometimes it’s braided into her hair, and others, it’s circling her waist like a belt, but the underlying motive is there.
A challenge.
Now, it’s lying here wild and waiting for me. Abandoned intentionally, and I pick it up, wrapping the strand around my right wrist before I tear off into a run again. My vision clouds around the edges the more distance I put between us and my lands, and I push harder.
My speed increases with each thump of my heart. Each second apart, I switch between fear for her safety and visions of how I will punish my little fae.
I don’t slow down or stop.
Not until a small cabin covered in vines appears.
Firelight dances from the window. I catch movement inside and tear the door clean off its hinges before sending it flying somewhere behind me. A gasp hits my ears; I’m greeted by her wide, doe eyes and plump lips curving into a smile.
That drops the second I stomp toward her, grabbing her wrists and holding her arms out wide before twisting her around. I survey her perfect skin. No mark. Not so much as a scratch.
When I turn Anaya to face me again, my expression is hard. “What the fuck possessed you to leave our lands? You could’ve been hurt?—”
“I wanted to play.” No shame, but she does grimace a little.
“You wanted to play?” It comes out as a growl, low and jagged. I slam her back into the wall, pinning her wrists above her head. My hand clamps around her jaw a second before my mouth crashes to hers, swallowing her gasp. That perfect little moan breaks out anyway, sweet and sinful, and my cock strains against my pants.
Her taste on my tongue makes my dick jerk, the swollen head dripping pre-come into the thin fabric.
She attempts to follow my lips when I pull back. “Leo, kiss me. I need your mouth?—”
I tsk, quickly leaning down just enough to bite her bottom lip before kissing the tip of her nose. “I played your game, Aya. Now you’ll play mine.”
10
LEONARDO
With her arms still pinned, I skim my free hand down the front of the dress, teasing her erect nipples. They’re beaded tight—straining against the thin fabric—and I yank the bodice low enough they slip out.
Perky. More than a handful.
Her nipples are a sweet, rosy pink that makes my mouth water, but I ignore them—a betrayal that earns me a hiss from my wife. Her small fangs peek out from behind a plump mouth, flashing in displeasure.
My response? I smack each tit twice, catching the tips—a warning—before moving further down.
The dress she’s wearing has risen, showing off her creamy thighs.
Her pussy is almost on display.
Just a little. Swollen lips are soaked, a few drops of her wetness dripping onto the refinished wooden floors.
Spoiled and impatient.
From the outside, the cabin is average, with vines and wildflowers growing around the property. The inside, though, has an open floor plan and modern amenities. No living room or bedrooms, the large four-poster bed sits against the opposite wall where I have her pinned. No other furniture exists, but there’s a fridge and what could be considered a kitchenette with a bathroom to the back as an add-on, and it’s small.
