Page 12 of Hunted

Picture every bad boy fantasy you ever had reading smutty paranormal romances as a teen and you would have River Caldwell. Dark hair he wore short in a military skull trim. Silver eyes the color of starlight. A mouth I couldn’t decide half the time whether I wanted to slap or kiss senseless.

“For someone who claimed he could make me come before my panties hit the floor, you’re doing an awful lot of talking.” I leaned up to catch his lips. Our tongues toyed briefly before River caged me in his arms, his powerful body suspended over mine on the bed, the head of his cock just kissing my entrance.

“I prefer it when you beg.”

“This isn’t real,” I whispered, staring up into the pale silver of eyes I pictured consuming me a thousand times a day. “It’s a projection, nothing more.”

“It’s as real as you want it to be.” Eyes locked with mine, he entered me in one long thrust, sheathing himself fully inside me. I groaned. Projection or not, River was most definitely not lacking in terms of size. I was so full, I never knew how he fit every time. My thighs began to shake. “Relax, Ellie. Take me in. All of me.” Releasing a low growl, he began to slowly move. I arched off the bed, nipping at his bottom lip.

River’s eyes burned gold as he cupped my breasts, slowly tugging the swollen peaks. Moaning, I pressed into his touch.

“You can’t make me come.”

“I did last night.” He leaned down to nibble my earlobe. “Twice. And you were even wetter when I got here tonight. Which means you’ve been thinking about this ever since you sent me that text, telling me to come to your bed. You’re so tight right now I can barely move.”

River’s mouth closed over mine in a slow, hungry kiss, his hips not coming close to the pace I was begging for. I growled. I needed this, needed his kisses and dark touches to chase away the nightmares. The distraction of whatever this was had been the only thing the past six months that had kept me sane between the stress of the research project and someone trying to kill me.

“Mmm. Temper, temper.”

“You’re doing that on purpose.”

“And you know you like it.” He broke the kiss, his lips moving down the column of my throat. “Sometimes I think I’ll go mad counting down the hours until I can return to your bed, feel your skin flush under my fingers, taste you wet and so ready for my cock.”

I shivered as the heat of his breath warmed my nipple, his tongue flicking out to slowly circle in a tease that brought a tortured groan to the back of my throat. “I will kill you.”

“Mmm… I like my chances. You may claim to hate me when the sun rises. You may send me glaring selfies, having no idea how beautiful you are. But you like doing far too many wicked things to my cock every night when I come to your bed.” His mouth closed over my nipple, tongue swirling in long, languid strokes that had my thighs clenching around the hard frame of his hips, a delicious burning ache forming where he plunged deep into my tight heat.

“Please,” I begged, straining against the restraints as he kissed his way across my chest to my other nipple, thighs shaking with the need for release. “I’m so close.”

He captured my mouth, thrusting deeper. I gasped when he hit that spot that made me see stars. He smirked. “Again.”

“Fuck you.”

“You know what I want.”

“Please.”

“Say my name.”

“This isn’t real. You. Me. This.” Even as I said it, my heels dug into his bare backside, drawing him deeper inside me. My lips sought the long silver scar that traced the length of his jaw, the scar he still refused to tell me how he’d gotten. River sighed into my mouth, angling the kiss so his tongue had ready access to mine.

“What is real?” He kissed his way down my chest, tongue slowly circling the rosy peak of my breast. “When I do this?” He began to suck. “Or this.”

Growling, I arched up into the heat of his mouth, shivering at the delicious scrape of teeth, the warm rough heat of his tongue. A desperate, buzzing tightness was building low in my hips, his cock driving deep to reach just where I needed it most.

“Fuck, River,” I gasped, the sound of his name falling from my lips entirely different this time as I arched up off the bed, my nipples dark pink and wet from his rough kisses. “Please.”

“I need to pull out soon.” His expression darkened. “You’re so fucking tight I can’t stand it. I can’t hold back much longer. Not with how good you feel wrapped like a vise around my cock.”

“Just a little bit longer.”

River sighed. “You know we can’t. It’s the full moon.”

“This isn’t real. Nothing can happen. I want you to come inside me tonight. I need you to come inside me.”

“You know that can’t happen. And you know why. Not right now. Not when it isn’t safe.”

Of course I did. He was a werewolf. I was human. Even if he wore protection, and he always did, there was a risk he could infect me with lycanthropy. Male shifters could only infect humans during a three-day period at the full moon, either through biting or sex. But accidents had happened before. River’s brother Dallas had infected his human girlfriend Lacey in high school outside of the three-day window. They’d used protection. They’d believed they were safe. But minutes after their first time together, her fever had begun to spike, the lycan virus surging within her bloodstream.