Hour of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #1) (39 page)

When she met his razor-sharp gaze, her skin heated as if she‘d stepped into a sauna. Her

hands went limp in his. Smiling slightly, he put them on his shoulders and came down on her,

crushing her in the cushions with his solid weight.

Her arms tightened. She smoldered with heat, her nipples so tight that she gasped as his

chest flattened them. When his legs pressed hers open, the light dusting of his hair scraped her

tender inner thighs. Everywhere he touched burned.

―Calum.‖ The hoarse voice…was hers? She struggled against him for a second, terrified of

losing herself completely.

But then his fingers touched her sex, and the feeling was…indescribable, like a band of

excitement being drawn taut low in her belly.

His rumble sounded like a purr as he pressed her open. Paused…and then sheathed himself

with one thrust.

Everything inside her exploded, the pleasure too intense, engulfing her, battering her. She

screamed as the waves of sensation rolled over her mind, drowning her completely.

A second—a minute—a lifetime later—she stared up at his hard face. So strong. Needing to

touch, she moved and realized her fingernails had dug into his back. Wet. She‘d made him bleed.

When? ―I‘m sorry.‖

―I‘m not.‖ Amusement rippled through his voice as he nuzzled the crook of her neck.

God, she felt great. All her tension had disappeared, and she‘d had a fantastic orgasm.

His black hair lay loose over his shoulders, and she ran her hands through the silky tangles

and lifted her face for a kiss. He took her lips leisurely, simply pleasing himself and her until she wiggled in enjoyment. And froze. He was still fully erect inside her. He hadn‘t come? ―Don‘t

you want to…?‖

He nuzzled her neck. ―I will wait for you.‖

She gave him a puzzled look.

―I give it about thirty more seconds, and you‘ll demand that I move.‖

It took only fifteen.

First her skin grew a billion new nerves until she could feel the slightest brush of hair

against her legs, feel his chest rise and fall, how warm his hands were, and the calluses on his

palms. The deepness of his voice made her insides clench and when she felt his cock there, still

thick and hard, a riptide of lust tried to sweep her away. She clung to sanity. ―Calum.‖

His eyes were hot, yet sparkling with laughter. ―Let go, little cat,‖ he whispered, and

then…then he started to move. Oh God, she‘d never felt anything like it before. A slow slide out

and in, setting every nerve rippling awake. A pause. Such a quiet rhythm to send her senses

spiraling upward.

The crease in his cheek deepened as he lifted her hips and slammed into her, hard and

deep—a pounding shock that pushed her off the cliff into a mindless orgasm.

An hour later, he showered with her in the tiny bathroom, and she wasn‘t sure if she liked

him or hated him. She‘d had no control whatsoever over anything he did, yet he‘d given her

exactly what she wanted. Over and over. He‘d set her feet on his shoulders and thrust into her in

a hard relentless rhythm that she could still feel inside. Her climax had almost killed her.

But within minutes, she‘d roused, needing more. He teased her with his fingers until she

couldn‘t breathe as the orgasm shot through her. After, she‘d contentedly snuggled in his arms,

and then, as if a switch had turned on, she‘d wanted him. He‘d simply smiled, rolled her over

with merciless hands, and taken her from behind, straight and hard, and she‘d screamed her way

through another orgasm. And yet again as he released into her, filling her with his hot seed.

After that, she‘d felt so satisfied, she figured she‘d sleep in the pile of pillows all night, but

much too soon, the tingle began in her again. The need to be touched, to be filled. This time,

when she‘d closed her fingers around him, Calum had stood and lifted her to her feet.

―I‘ve stayed with you longer than I should as it is, cariad,‖ he said and pulled her into the

shower.

The splash of hot water over her sensitive skin felt heavenly, and when he washed her back,

her breasts...everything, her hips tilted into his hand. ―More...‖

But he ignored her, dried her off so gently, yet so thoroughly that she ached with need

before he finished. Putting on clothes seemed the very height of insanity. ―Let‘s go back to bed.‖

He shook his head, and she wanted to punch him. ―Downstairs, little cat.‖

Cursing under her breath, she pulled on her clothes. He picked up her boots and socks. He

took her hand and led her, barefoot, back down into the noisy tavern. Almost a quarter of the

people had disappeared, she noticed. After tossing her boots behind the bar, Calum didn‘t release

her, just moved her across the room to a destination obvious only to him.

―Where are you taking me?‖ she asked, planting her feet.

He frowned. ―I hoped Alec would be here, but—‖

―Well, now, he had some emergency that only the sheriff could deal with.‖ Daniel walked

up, a beer in each hand. As he handed one to Calum, he tilted his head as if asking a question.

Calum‘s lips tightened but he nodded. His voice sounded hoarse as he said, ―‗Tis harder than

I thought it would be, but I‘m glad you‘re here, Daniel.‖

―Calum?‖ Worried, Vic ran her hand down his arm. God, he had great muscles. And his

hands, the way they‘d touched her… She blinked, remembered the question, ―Is something

wrong?‖

―I am only regretting that I must leave you now to the care of others.‖ His eyes had gone

black, never a good sign. He framed her face between his strong hands. ―But I will stay over

there by the bar, cariad, should any problems arise.‖

Giving Daniel an unreadable look, he kissed Vic quickly and walked away. She took a step

after him—

―Vicki, this one‘s for you, girl.‖ Daniel slid smoothly in front of her and pushed a beer into

her hand. When she tried to look around him, he shook his head. ―He can‘t stay with you,

sweetie. I‘m sorry.‖

She sighed. ―You guys have too many rules.‖ Dammit, she felt lost without him, and she

needed him and—

Daniel moved close enough she could feel the warmth of his body. She had to tilt her head

to look up at him. He was a werebear, she remembered, and built like one. Big and powerful. His

sleeves were rolled up showing forearms thick with muscle. ―Muscles…‖ she whispered.

―I have a fondness for women with muscles too.‖ He ran a finger up her bare arm over her

biceps.

She shivered at the feeling.

―Don‘t you like the beer I brought you?‖

―Oh—oh, yeah.‖ She was holding a bottle, wasn‘t she? The cold malty liquid slid down her

throat, and she closed her eyes at the marvelous taste of it. ―That‘s wonderful,‖ she murmured.

Opening her eyes, she met his intent gaze, his blue gaze hot as molten steel. He leaned

forward and licked a few drops off her lip, the touch of his tongue velvety. His musky scent

enveloped her, touched her skin as if he‘d stroked over her with his hands.

―Um.‖ She shook her head. Get a grip. It‟s only lust. Horny, she‘d felt horny before, for

God‘s sake.

Another man came over, nudged Daniel to one side, and earned himself a slight snarl. ―My

name is Harvey,‖ he said, pressing a kiss to her wrist.

She snatched her hand back, all her tingles abruptly cooling. She scowled before conquering

her irritation. ―Yeah. Um. Nice to meet you,‖ she managed, and glancing over at Daniel, her gaze

locked onto his again. His lips curved slowly. He should put those lips on hers. On her.

Unable to resist, she ran her finger over his mouth, silky soft, then down over his square jaw.

The slight rasp made her shiver.

―Upstairs?‖ he whispered, ―or do you want to talk for a while first.‖ His fingers toyed with

her hair, the little touches like sparks against her skin.

―Tal—‖ Hell with it. ―Upstairs.‖

How many tiny rooms did this place contain? This one had red pillows in every size and

shape and texture. Taking her beer from her, Daniel set it on a table in the corner of the room.

Just watching his movements with the slight swagger of a cowboy weakened her knees. She sank

down to the floor. This was total insanity.

―Hey, hey,‖ Daniel murmured, kneeling before her. ―I know it‘s overwhelming the first

time, especially for you, being new to shifter customs.‖ He pulled her against his chest, stroking

her hair. ―We can go as easy as you like.‖

―How long does this last?‖

―From moonrise to moonset. With dawn, everything returns to normal.‖

She could hear his heart, slow and steady, the feel of his hard muscles against her cheek. His

scent. She frowned. His scent was wrong; his hands were wrong. Not Alec; not Calum. Suddenly

she pushed away, unable to find enough air.

He released her and didn‘t move, only tilted his head. His nostrils flared, and then he

frowned. ―One minute you want me, the next you don‘t.‖

―I…‖ God, she‘d wanted to come up here. She‘d led him on. ―I like you. I do.‖ Yet the

thought of having sex with him totally turned her off. ―I‘m sorry, Daniel.‖

―Me, too.‖ He gave her a wry smile. ―But scent doesn‘t lie.‖

The lust faded from his face as he helped her to her feet, putting little kisses on her fingers.

Who knew a cowboy could be so romantic and gentle? He led her back downstairs. Men

crowded around her again, pushing him to the side. She saw Calum talking with one man in the

corner and keeping an eye on the proceedings. To her horror, her need was growing stronger.

She caught his gaze and glanced upstairs. Heat flashed in his eyes before he shook his head with

a regretful smile.

Bastard.

She looked at the guys in front of her. Two older and a younger one with the look of a gaunt

wolf. Then a man stalked across the room. Hard and rough-looking, like a younger Thorson with

scars white against his deeply tanned neck and arms. At least six foot five, he wore black jeans

and a black leather vest with nothing underneath. His dark brown eyes were watchful, prepared

for anything, and every move he made shouted danger. Strength. He halted before he reached

her, and she saw him glance at Calum, lift his eyebrows.

Calum tilted his head in approval or permission—she wasn‘t sure.

The man‘s shadowed eyes settled on her, and she couldn‘t move. Two of the other men

melted away, leaving an older, harder man still standing his ground.

―I am Zeb of the Rainier Territory, and I would be pleased to fight you for this female, to

show my strength and win her favors,‖ the scarred one said, moving close enough that she could

inhale his dark scent. His eyes never left his opponent although his fingers traced a slow path

down her cheek.

She leaned into his hand.

The other hesitated, shook his head. ―Cahir from Rainier, I regret. I‘ve heard of you.‖ And

he withdrew.

―May I take you somewhere, share time with you?‖ Zeb lifted her wrist, pressed a kiss over

her pulse, and inhaled. Smiled.

The wave of lust burst over her, and she closed her eyes, trying to find her footing. When

she opened them, his gaze met hers, intent, watchful. ―I—I seem to have trouble talking,‖ she

managed. ―I don‘t know what‘s wrong with me.‖ He hadn‘t released her hand, and the way his

thumb stroked over her palm made her melt inside.

He stiffened. ―I hadn‘t realized—you are the new shifter.‖

She managed a nod, feeling like she would drown in his eyes, in his scent. ―I can‘t—‖

―Tell me your name.‖ He moved closer and wrapped an arm around her.

She purred at his touch. ―Vicki.‖

His fingers ran through her hair, a gentle caress. His voice was still deep, yet gentled. ―I

have heard a woman‘s first Gather is a downpour of heat and sensation.‖ He smiled slowly,

―You‘ll gain control with experience. But since you only get one first Gather, let us both enjoy.‖

And he lifted her into his arms with a roar that stilled the room.

Upstairs, as he laid her on the silky green cushions, she cooled, filling with horror. Dear

God, I don‟t even know this man. She rolled to a sitting position and pulled her legs to her chest.

She didn‘t have to do this—she could stay in control. Really.

He touched her lightly on the hair, and then, after tossing his vest to one side, built up the

fire. Once it blazed up, he sat back on his haunches and watched her, his eyes intent, reminding

her of a wolf waiting for a rabbit to move. To run.

He had a scar like Alec‘s, a blue knife mark across his right cheekbone. Her gaze dropped,

seeing the heavy scarring on his arms and shoulders. She frowned. The guy was a walking war

zone. What had caused all that?

His eyes narrowed. ―Do the scars bother you, little female? Do I scare you?‖ Before she

could speak, he snagged her ankle and pulled her over the cushions to him like a captured puppy.

She was no puppy. With her free foot, she snap-kicked his hand off her leg.

The bastard not only didn‘t wince, he actually grinned.

―I‘m not little.‖ She rolled onto her knees. ―I just wondered what caused scarring like that.‖

With fingertips, she traced one thin white line down his shoulder. Thanks to Lachlan, she

recognized the marks of teeth on his arms and other shoulder.

Lots of white scars, a few were tiny and thin, parallel like Alec and Thorson‘s cat marks,

three very thick ones extended all the way across his heavily muscled upper chest. When she ran

her finger over them, he hummed in pleasure, and his six-pack of abdominal muscles tightened.