Page 7 of The Hunt
A protective male.
“We’re not alone, pretty girl. Come to me.”
3
THEODORE
Two heartbeats.
One steady and fast—panic and adrenaline pumping through veins that reek of alcohol. The other, though…it’s slower. Labored. A dying rhythm.
Every movement cuts through the stillness. From the snap of twigs and mud sucking at rubber soles to the desperate shuffle of prey that doesn’t realize it’s already cornered.
They reek of cheap spirits and grime, drunken fools, but beneath the repulsive stench, there’s more. A scent hits the back of my throat then, thick and cloying, with an abrasive undertone of sulfur that makes my mate grimace as her hand slips into mine.
I yank her to me before wrapping a hand around her waist, gripping tight. The one holding her hand now cradles the back of her neck, and I press her sweet face against my chest. She breathes me in a few times, her petite frame relaxing while her small teeth nip my skin more than once.
Naughty little thing. So playful.
The intruders move closer—heavy footsteps. They shouldn’t be here.
My lands are protected, wards placed by Gabriella herself…especially for tonight. They’re meant to keep the predators in and the living out, and yet these men have interrupted my private time with my queen. A fault of my own, one I’ll remedy soon—the protection recognizes power, not intent—and these two reek of flesh and greed.
Stupid, weak humans.
“You think they’re still chasing us?” a gruff, older voice asks. Beneath the tone, there’s pain. A lot of it. “We’ve been running from the police for days now.”
“Just a little further up.” This man is definitely younger. Impatient. Annoyed. “The stupid witch said to follow the underground tunnels?—”
I stop listening then. Completely unnecessary when the criminal mastermind is currently giggling in my arms, shoulders shaking, while the bond between us floods with amusement.
At the sound, the men pause, their acrid scents now tinged with want.
Curiosity. Fear. Impatience.
“Did you hear that, Jay?”
“I did, Son. A cute, girlish laugh.” A groan leaves his lips, but that soon turns to coughs. “It's been a while since we’ve shared something tight and soft.”
“That fucking witch interrupted our time with the blonde in the alleyway,” the younger spits. His anger ripples from him, but beneath the false bravado, he’s scared. On edge. I like it. “The redheaded cunt better be right about the gold and healing amulet. I won’t help you again after this, Father.”
They’re not far from us, picking up the pace while the sick one of the two struggles a bit. He stumbles, a few curses escaping, while I tug my pretty girl’s hair back and force her red eyes up to mine.
Why Gabriella sent them here doesn’t matter to me. They’re dead men walking either way.
“You’ll pay for this interruption, my love.”
“Do your worst, Mr. Astor.”
“As you wish.” I slam my mouth down to hers, taking it in a quick and brutal kiss before flipping her around. Her back is to my chest, my arm tight across her midsection, before I move.
The air cracks as I leap, landing silently on a branch high above the forest floor. The wood bows, but doesn’t break. It holds my weight, but the height doesn’t hide her scream as I impale her on my shaft.
I’m buried to the hilt in one brutal stroke, her sweet little cunt stretching to accommodate me, and I revel in the way she clenches—her body giving in to the pleasure and pain only her mate could gift her. I don’t stop either; I fuck her with relentless strokes. Suspended in the air, she’s leaning on me and under my control.
I maneuver her to my liking. Hold her close, my unoccupied hand wrapping around her throat as I pump my hips at a rapid pace. There’s no time to plead, much less hold back her screams, and the men run toward us now.
They ignore every warning. The air is filled with their groans and my wife’s pleasure.
