Taming The Hunter. Michele Hauf
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“Your energy is definitely very focused,” he said as he glanced up at her and winked. He closed his eyes, and she controlled his silence with a firm grip of his cock. He was able only to moan then, and that pleased her immensely.
“You don’t want to go up to the bed, do you?”
“No, I like it here in the jungle.” He shook back a loose strand of his hair from his eye. “Uh, do you have birth control? I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m good. Birth control,” she replied. It was her standard way to explain that she conjured a birth control spell once a quarter under the harvest moon. But the guy never needed to know the method, or anything beyond that she was safe.
She wiggled her hips as he slid her dress down to her thighs and then her knees, until she eventually kicked it aside. And all without letting go of his cock. So talented.
“You’ve got the hold of someone who must prefer driving,” he commented as he looked down at her firm clasp.
“It’s just so fun to hold. You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. As long as you don’t mind me kissing you here.” He slid up alongside her so she didn’t have to let go of him, but also bowed forward to place a kiss at the apex of her thighs. And he didn’t stop there. His tongue dashed out to explore and taste and devour. “You smell like coconut here.”
“I always use coconut oil in my body lotions.”
“I like it. I think that stuff comes in handy as a lube, too, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Oh, lover, we are not going to need it,” she cooed, and met Dane’s winking smile.
Had she seen that smile so many times in her various reincarnations? Possibly.
“Come inside me, Dane,” she whispered.
He moved up to kiss her mouth, and his fingers stroked her folds still, tendering her most sensitive spots with ease and devotion. When she guided his erection between her legs, he propped up on an elbow and met her gaze. In the soft candlelight his eyes twinkled, and as he entered her, the intensity in his irises held her mesmerized. He owned her with his eyes, with the smile that grew as his rhythm began and the thickness of him filled her.
Eryss clutched at his hip, beckoning him faster, and never losing eye contact. The expressions on his face moved from a tense, lip-biting agony to a cool, smirking confidence. And then his eyes closed and his body trembled. His thrusts grew deeper, harder. She dug her fingernails in at his hip, begging, pleading for the mastery.
And the tug and tease of his erection at her clitoris summoned an orgasm that shook her very bones at the same time that he gasped and clutched the couch near her head. They came together.
As they had through the centuries.
* * *
Dane was startled awake by Eryss’s cry. They lay entwined on the emerald sofa amid a wild and weird winter jungle. Still in the clinging throes of sleep, he watched as she sat up and touched her ribs just beneath her breast. Right where that weird birthmark darkened her skin.
“You okay?” he muttered, fighting the urge to come fully awake.
She nodded sleepily. She was fighting wakefulness as well. It was still dark outside. “Just a weird dream.”
She settled beside him and he pulled her close. As her skin melded against his, his erection took note and he smiled against her shoulder.
“Really?” she murmured.
“It’ll settle,” he said. “Unless...?”
“Come inside me, Dane,” she said in a beautiful sleepy tone.
And so he did, slipping into her hot wetness and not even feeling the need to thrust. It just felt great being inside her. And together they drifted to sleep again.
Dane strode out of the bathroom and down into the kitchen, veering toward the fridge only because it was a natural inclination to seek snacks after sex. But instead he grabbed a glass from the shelf and poured some tap water. He retrieved his cell phone from his coat pocket and propped a hip against the butcher-block table.
Scratching his bare abs, he checked his emails. None. Not that he’d expected any. He was on an unofficial vacation. But he always strived to stay in touch with the Agency. There was a possibility someone might want to get ahold of him. He’d emailed Tor that the dagger pickup would be delayed, but it wasn’t a problem. The Agency was pretty sure the dagger was neither cursed nor contained active magic.
Because sometimes weird stuff did happen around the weapons he debunked. It all had to do with the energies. Blades and weapons made from metal could pick up magnetic properties, and if you stood in the right place at the wrong time, the thing could be propelled toward you due to paramagnetism.
He loved stuff like that. Made the job more interesting than it already was.
“Energies,” he whispered now, and his thoughts returned to last evening when Eryss had asked him to place the rose quartz over her heart chakra. “Who’da thought?”
So he’d give the idea of stones possessing energy credence. Because he had witnessed it, and was pretty sure she hadn’t tricked him with a low-voltage device such as the type magicians palmed for unsuspecting suckers. That didn’t make her a real witch, just a woman connected to nature.
And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.
He almost tucked the phone back in a coat pocket when cool morning light glinted over the window above the sink—and he noticed a symbol that frost crystals had formed on the glass.
He padded over and studied the window. Sunlight fractured through the ice crystals in blue, red and violet. It was almost a mandala, though not symmetrical. A fractal of sorts, but again, more homemade than precise. Impossible to have been formed by frost. The only way was if someone had traced a finger on the window first, which was likely the case.
He raised the phone and snapped a picture of the symbol. He always recorded stuff that fascinated him. And his job made him extra perceptive for out-of-the-ordinary happenings. Eryss’s house was full of fascinations. She thought stones could heal? And now this symbol. And the full garden out in the conservatory. And reincarnation and souls. Talk about open-minded.
Perhaps a bit too open, he thought with a grimace.
Could she really believe she was a natural-born witch? No, she hadn’t said as much. She was simply someone who was fascinated by crystals and plants, which might naturally lend to the more woo-woo sorts of artwork like the one on the window.
She seemed too smart for that, a woman who would never blindly accept the unknown without the facts. Yet if she were a real witch...that was another scenario entirely. But he had no reason to consider it.
Setting his phone on the table, he glanced to his coat, which hung by the door. He didn’t wish to spend the next few days sitting alone in a hotel room. He could, but that wouldn’t be fun. So a fling with a sexy woman who could seduce him with her cooking and a conservatory overflowing with summer?
“Bring on the magic.”
* * *
Eryss woke on the couch alone. Had her lover left in the early morning hours?