The Wolf’s Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(49)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Knowledge of how to make a man talk.

And even though her own heart was nearly slamming out of her chest, even though her body burned with desire for him to touch her, she wanted to be on equal ground, equal footing. Part of her realized Hunter needed more than a lover — he needed a partner. Someone he could spar with, a person who would challenge him, a wife who would not always do as she was told.

As soon as her skin made contact with his, he let out a long string of curses and closed his eyes. "Gwen." He swore again. "This is…"

"What?" She kissed his neck; he growled in response.

"This is such perfect torture."

Muscles flexed and strained as he tried to touch her. She watched as sweat began to form at his temples, and then he leaned his head forward and touched her chest. "I cannot take much more of this, Gwen."

"The mind is stronger than the body, is it not?"

"No, I say not. Now release me before I die."

"One cannot die from want."

"Watch me." He growled and then kissed her hard across the mouth. His neck strained to push his mouth harder against hers.

Shivering in response, she pulled back, just far enough that his lips could not touch. "How badly do you want me to release you?"

Hunter looked down and then back up. "Do you truly not know the answer to that question?"

With reluctance, she moved away from his lap and began to untie his bonds, as slowly as she was able. When he was free he did not move.

"What are you doing?"

"Counting to five."

"Why?" Perplexed, she walked around to face him.

"Five seconds. You have exactly five seconds to grab your weapon of choice or hide. But know that I will find you."

Gwen searched frantically for the knife. Where the devil had she put it!

"One—"

"Hunter, I think—"

"Two—" He sounded almost bored.

Gwen saw a flash of silver and grasped the knife between her hands.

"Five." He brought his hands in front of him and cracked his knuckles.

"Wait." Gwen held out the knife in front of her. "You said you were counting to five."

Hunter’s eyes snapped open. A hungry look rippled across his face as he leaned forward. "Silly Red, didn’t you know? Wolves always lie." He lunged for her body. She ran through the trees, through the forest to be exact, but Hunter caught her wrist and brought her backside firmly against him.

His rough whisper sent shivers down her spine. "Have you any idea what I am about to do to you?"

She gulped as his rough hands slowly caressed down her arms and then cradled her waist. "I want you, in every way, Gwen."

"Then take me."

He chuckled. "Oh, I plan to. Remember, the story is being rewritten."

"And how does it end?" she whispered as Hunter began to slowly massage her shoulders.

"The Wolf devours Red."

Hunter lifted her off her feet and cradled her body as he stalked through the trees to the fireplace. He laid her softly across the fur blankets and hovered above her.

"So beautiful," she whispered as she gently touched his muscled stomach. He closed his eyes and then lowered his body over hers.

"Not as beautiful as you."

"Why, Hunter, did you just admit to being less beautiful than another creature?" She laughed nervously as his lips descended and began working their way down her stomach.

"Minx," he whispered as he kissed her navel and then jerked her body up so their chests were touching. "You are more beautiful." He kissed the side of her neck. "More unique." His lips nipped her earlobe. "More desirable." He kissed her eyelids. "Than any woman I have ever come across." The last part he said looking directly into her eyes. The warm golden glow of his eyes seemed to flare to life just before his mouth crushed hers, his tongue begging entry into her mouth.

She opened herself to him — to everything.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Wolf—

I didn’t know you had such patience, though after last night… I’m yet again proven wrong. Apparently it is not just wolves that beg, but spies, and Hunters as well…

—Red

The woman was killing him. Every touch, every kiss, every caress, nearly drove him mad with want. Mad with passion, with lust, with so many emotions he wasn’t sure what was up or down. What his name was, or why he had been so scared to become one with someone again.

A soul mate was just that, someone who saw into the depths of one’s soul and instead of retreating, held on for dear life.

That was Gwen.

He nestled her tightly into his body and kissed her cheek. A lock of hair had fallen across her face. He brushed it away and sighed.

He was bound to her. Promised to her. His heart felt as if someone had taken it and fused the broken pieces together. The fire blazed behind him, his stomach growled with hunger, but all he wanted to do was watch her sleep. He imagined her belly swelled with his children and pride burst through his body.

Home. Finally he was where he belonged. Next to the woman… he sighed as his hand shakily rubbed her arm. Next to the woman he loved.

****

Hunter awoke to complete darkness. Gwen moaned next to him, and then he heard a door shut. He jolted awake as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Someone was there. At his house.

He quickly searched for one of the discarded candles on the table and lit it. His eyes had yet to adjust as he made his way through the trees and out into the entryway.

Nothing looked amiss, but the door was wide open. He went to shut it and cursed. As he turned, his eyes caught something on the far wall.

He walked closer and lifted the candle. In blood red lettering was one word. Traitor.

Hunter almost dropped the candle. He steadied his breathing and studied the handwriting. It did not appear familiar.

Something was horribly wrong. The only people who even knew of this house or knew he would be here had been Dominique and Montmouth. Then again, he had told Wilkins, considering just a few days previous he had turned in his resignation to the Crown.

He began pacing across the floorboards. Someone must have followed them home last night, which meant they’d either waited for him and Gwen to fall asleep or broken in early this morning.

The clock in the hall chimed six. Well, it seemed his honeymoon was already over. He could not have Gwen in danger. He refused to allow anything to touch her. He quickly went into his study and wrote a note to Dominique and Montmouth, letting them know of what had just taken place. As he finished up, he looked down and saw the packet of codes Wilkins had recently given him.