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“Is that what you think this is?” Odin twisted his hips, rubbing them against each other. He wasn’t the only one hard as a rock right now, there was no denying that. “You think I’m about to fuck you because of Isa?”
“Forcibly fuck me,” Hunter stated.
“Forcefully maybe.” Odin wasn’t buying it, but he’d allow Hunter to keep up the act if that’s what he needed to go through with this. He was stubborn, his Huntsman, always had been. “I’ve recalled a few more things from our past,” he rolled again, slower this time, almost lazily, “would you like to know about them?”
“No,” Hunter said through gritted teeth. He was trying so hard not to make any sounds of pleasure, but he was already covered in a fine sheen of sweat now and trembling in Odin’s hold.
“It’s funny, how memory works, how it can trick you,” he told him anyway, reaching down with his free hand to riffle through his pants which he’d left in a pile on the ground. When he found what was looking for, he brought it up, making sure it was high enough for Hunter to get a good look.
“Where the hell did you get that?” Hunter’s eyes widened on the knife when Odin pushed the button on the side that had the five-inch blade springing free.
“All this time I’d convinced myself it was all in my head,” Odin continued as he brought he tip of the knife between them, down to the end of Hunter’s shirt. “Those longing glances you sent my way, the careful way you spoke around me. A trick, either one you did on purpose intending to eventually lure me into that forest, or one I made up all on my own due to the strange feelings I had for you.”
Hunter watched silently as he began to cut through his shirt, staying completely still even when Odin released his neck and sat up so he could use both hands to sheer through the thin material.
“But it wasn’t all in my head, was it, Huntsman. I didn’t make it up, any of it. Including the way you’d pout a little whenever Isa stood too close to me in public. You’d try to hide it, would look away as fast as you could, but I caught you. What was it? Jealous, Little Whisper? You think I don’t know why you made that specific demand? You’d mate me only if I swore not to fuck anyone else, remember? That was only a few days ago, I’m sure you haven’t forgotten,” he chuckled humorlessly, “even if you’ve been trying to.”
That pissed him off to no end too, imagining Hunter in here, pacing the room, running his hands frustratingly through his hair like he was wont to do, wracking his brain for a way to get out of it. For a way to escape being his.
“Did you?” The fight was back in Hunter’s eyes suddenly, even as he lay there and allowed Odin to pull his shirt apart to expose his chest. “Did you sleep with him just now?”
He made a face. “I loathe him. Why would I ever?”
“A month ago, you would have said the same thing about me,” Hunter pointed out, though he had to know himself how ridiculous he sounded.
“You don’t think I slept with Isa,” Odin surmised, “you’re just looking for an excuse to justify getting angry.”
“This,” he motioned down at his pinned body with his chin, “is more than enough reason, actually.”
“Fight me then.”
“You’re holding a knife.”
Odin dropped it to the floor next to the couch. “Fight me.”
Hunter glared at him for a long moment and then glanced away. “I wouldn’t win.”
“Is that why you finally agreed?” he asked. “You realized resisting was futile?”
“Don’t say it like you don’t know you wore me down on purpose,” Hunter snapped.
“Of course I did,” Odin admitted easily. “Why wouldn’t I have? I’d do anything to have you, Huntsman. This?” He mirrored his move with his chin, indicating their positions. “This is nothing. I’m capable of much, much worse.” He felt Hunter tense beneath him a second time and chuckled. “There you go, Little Whisper, let it sink in.”
“You’re threatening me.”
“Yes,” he wouldn’t deny it. Why bother? He wasn’t a good person. Sometimes, he wasn’t even sure he was a person at all. Proof of that fact was how he’d literally just come from killing a man. The one who’d been hired to run into him with his truck.
Odin wasn’t a good person. But neither was Isa. And the thought of his monstrous step-brother getting his hands on Hunter before Odin had mated him first…
Isa didn’t know what Hunter was, but his comment about taking Hunter wouldn’t stop repeating itself in Odin’s mind, over and over again.
“We’re going to mate,” Odin said, voice husky and low, “Tonight. I’m going to have you bouncing on my cock and screaming my name, and then we’re going to exchange blood and complete the bond. Agree, Little Whisper.”
“And if I don’t?” Hunter glared at him defiantly.
“Then we’re going to do it anyway.” He’d been patient, but they were out of time. The fact that Isa had walked right into the club the way he had, meant he’d already gotten closer to the Huntsman than Odin was comfortable with. Something within him was screaming to lay claim before it was too late. Before his step-brother somehow discovered what he had and made good on his threat to steal it away.
A Whisper, once mated, couldn’t be mated by anyone else.
