Hunted, A Romantic Suspence Novel (26 page)

“Then why did you wait so long?” she managed to whisper. Her taut nipple tingled beneath the heat of his hand. Then he began to knead the flesh and pluck at the peak. Fire and ice spread through her body.

“Because you weren’t ready.”

Oh God, she was ready now.

He dipped his head and kissed the side of her neck, moving slowly along the column of her throat. He blazed another trail of electricity along her skin with his lips. Every nerve in her body jumped to hypermode.

Then he shifted his body lower beside her. The friction of skin against skin sent shivers dancing throughout her.

She moaned softly.

He paused, his head suspended a millimeter above her breast. The warmth of his breath caressing her nipple thrilled her. She wanted more. Her fingers gripped the spindles tighter. She closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to claim her.

Instead, his tongue, soft and wet, drew a lazy circle around her nipple. Then his lips suckled softly on it.

She arched her back off the bed. “Oh, Matt.”

“More, sweetheart?” he murmured against her breast.

“Yes, please.”

He shifted again, his body covering the lower half of hers. He repeated the process on her other breast until she quivered beneath him.

Then he moved lower. Gently, he pushed her thighs open, settling his body between them. His lips never left her flesh. He tasted every inch of her stomach, then across the junction of one leg at her groin.

His fingers opened the folds of her sex. “You’re so wet for me already. You’re so beautiful, Katie.”

She opened her eyes to see him staring at her, his face cradled between her thighs. Desire burned in his eyes. Then he dipped his face.

Surely he didn’t mean to kiss her there?

Oh yes he did.

Fire shot through her. Her body lurched off the bed as his tongue slid between her tender folds. Her eyes closed and her world centered on the sensations he caused. She whimpered with need.

“Sh, sweetheart,” he murmured against her most sensitive flesh. “Try to relax and let it happen.”

Relax? How could she relax with him playing Ravel’s
Boléro
on her body?

Then he began his assault once more. Gently licking, sucking, teasing her into a new frenzy. Her body wiggled and thrust to the ballet’s sensual movements he directed.

He coaxed every bit of control from her, until she reached the crescendoed peak he wanted. Finally her body, taut with desire, fell into the abyss. Spasms wracked her, and her grip on the headboard slowly eased.

The bed shifted as he moved away from her body.

She whimpered. “Don’t go.”

“Believe me, I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was a deep rumble from the bedside.

Katie opened her eyes. His back to the bed, she watched him strip out of his jeans and boxers—his legs firm, hips lean, each muscle delineated in the candlelight. Then he turned. She inhaled deeply at the sight of his erection. Warmth spread through her. She’d done that. She’d aroused him to the point that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

“Are you sure, Katie?” he asked.

After the orgasm she’d just had he still asked her for permission. She knew if she said no, he’d stop. She’d learned to trust him enough to believe that. But she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him, all of him.

“Please make love to me, Matt.” She held her arms open to him.

He took a moment to protect her with a condom then moved between her thighs once more, this time kneeling with his erection pressed against the swollen, moist folds of her. His hands on either side of her torso, he leaned in and kissed her, slow and deep. She tasted her own desire on his lips.

“Tell me, Katie,” he murmured. “Tell me what you want.”

She bent her knees, and rubbed her wet sex along the firm, hot length of him.

Tell him? Couldn’t he feel what she wanted?

He kissed her again. Slipping his tongue into her mouth, teasing, thrusting against hers. “Tell me, Katie.”

“Inside me,” she whispered. “I want you inside me, now, Matt.”

Pulling back, he shifted his weight onto his arms then slipped his tip between her folds.

She inhaled as he stretched her open then wrapped her legs around him.

“Oh, God, Katie,” he moaned in response, and with one thrust, he buried himself deep inside her.

Something tore and a sliver of pain shocked her. She gasped.

He froze.

“Dammit, Katie, I didn’t know.” He started to move away.

She tightened her legs on his, and grabbed at his back, holding him to her. “No. Please don’t stop.”

Her actions pulled him in deeper.

“Katie…don’t move…sweetheart,” he managed between breaths. If she moved again, he’d hurt her more, despite his promise. “I need…one…second.”

Her eyes opened. Unshed tears filled them. “You won’t stop, will you? I don’t want you to stop.”

The desperation in her voice touched his soul. “I won’t stop.” He smoothed her hair from her face, and trailed kisses against her eyes, then her nose, and her chin. He felt her hold on him relax a little.

“Is it better, yet?” He kissed her gently, fighting with all his might to control his own raging need to thrust into her tender flesh.

She nodded. “I think so.”

He leaned all his weight onto his elbows, then slid back a fraction of an inch, letting her adjust to the feel of him moving inside her. He thrust forward again.

“Oh, yes,” she murmured against his lips, dragging his head down to hers.

And he was lost.

All thought fled his mind, and the need to join with this woman, to bring them both to fulfillment grasped him in its reins.

Her fingers dug into his back, her heels into his thighs as he increased the rhythm. With each thrust another of her little moans of pleasure filled the room. The feel of her around him, squeezing him, pulling him drove him to fill her faster until they both hovered at the brink.

“Love me, love me, love me,” she whispered into his ear.

He smothered her moans with a searing kiss. When the first of her shudders coursed through her, he let his own orgasm rip through him.

The firelight cast a soft glow in the hearth across the darkened room opposite the bed. Matt had extinguished all the candles and crawled back into bed with Katie. He lay on his back, one arm above his head, the other holding her pressed against his body.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?” Smoothing her dark hair from her face he kissed her forehead.

“I told you I’d never made love to anyone before.” She whispered beside him. “I guess I should have said I’d never had sex before, but I thought you understood.”

“I thought you meant something else.”

“What else could I have meant?” She leaned on her elbow to study him.

He swallowed hard. “You lived with Strict’s family. I knew women in that type of environment were sometimes, um, used…um, as sex objects—”

“You thought I was a camp whore?” She pulled away from him, climbed out of bed, and searched the floor for her nightshirt.

“I never said I thought you were a whore.” He jumped out of bed, going after her. “Katie, come back here.”

“Back off.” She raised one hand to ward him off.

He stopped, panic mixing with his own anger. “Come back to bed, sweetheart. It’s freezing cold tonight.”

She scrambled into her nightshirt, then pulled a quilt off the chair near the fire and curled up in it. “I’ll sleep here.”

“Dammit, Katie.” He knelt in front of her. God, he wanted to take her in his arms and carry her back to bed. But she had to come to him willingly. So many had forced her to do what they wanted. He wouldn’t be one more. “Sweetheart, I never believed you’d do anything willingly.”

“What did you think?” she asked, her eyes filled with hurt and unshed tears.

He reached for her hand.

She drew it away. “Don’t touch me.”

Patience. He needed to make her understand, but he’d have to tread carefully.

“Katie, you’ve been through so much at the hands of that madman. Abused, both physically and mentally. When I saw the lash scars on your back, I assumed you’d…” He swallowed.

“You assumed I’d given in to whatever he wanted, even if it meant giving my body to him and his men?”

Matt shook his head. “No, sweetheart. You’re too strong to just give in. Each of those scars attests to that.”

This time she reached for him, the smooth skin of her palm settling against his face. His heart ached with her tenderness.

“What did you think, Matt?”

His shoulders sagged under the weight of how his assumption had hurt her. He lowered his eyes, his head bowed. “I’d thought you’d been raped.”

Except for the logs crackling on the fire, silence filled the room.

She laid her hand on his head, bringing his face to rest on her knee. He slid his hands around her thighs, watching the fire dance around the logs’ edges.

It took a few minutes, but eventually she spoke.

Matt rubbed her thighs with his hands. Whatever she was telling him needed to come out. His heart ached with each word, but he wouldn’t stop her.

“That day after Billy died and I refused to build Strict anymore bombs was also the day my public whippings started. No one refused the Prophet. For a week he lashed me to the flagpole, and whipped me with that horse whip. Each day I refused him. Even setting his dogs on me wouldn’t break my resolve.

“After a week, he threatened to have me raped by every man in the group. I told him to go ahead, I wasn’t going to let one more person be harmed because of me.” She snorted heavily. “I’d forgotten what a sick man he was. He used my own words against me. That day he grabbed the ten-year old girl from the crowd, I watched him stroke her hair in a sick, perverted fashion. He said I would teach his men to build his bombs or she’d take my new punishment.”

Nausea gripped Matt. He couldn’t listen to any more. “Oh baby, I didn’t know, really.” He scooped her into his arms, kissing her frantically.

“I wouldn’t let them use me, but I couldn’t let them use her either.” She gulped in air. “There was no other choice. I caved in to his demands. He killed fifty people because of me. In the end, I was too weak to stop him.”

Matt sat in the chair with her cradled in his lap. He framed her face with his hands, forcing her to look at him. “You’re wrong, you know. I’ve never met anyone stronger in my whole life.”

She tried to shake her head, but he held her.

“You survived a life of such persecution that would’ve killed most people. You managed to save your virtue in a sea of perverted animals. You fought to save people, and managed to save one small girl.” He kissed her slow and deep then lifted his head to stare at her. “And in the end you were the one person who defied Strict. You put him in that prison cell. You alone are the reason he’s getting the punishment he deserves.”

“If I can’t find those papers, and stop whatever plan he has in place, he’ll win again.” She leaned in against Matt’s body. “You’re right, though.”

“About what?” Rubbing his hands over her back beneath the quilt, he enjoyed the feel of her cuddled in his lap.

“It’s freezing cold tonight,” she murmured against his neck.

He pushed the quilt off her shoulder and kissed her collarbone.

Shivers rippled through her, even as she tilted her neck to offer him more creamy skin to taste.

He obliged her with a nibble of her neck. “And what would you like me to do about it, sweetheart?”

“I think you should take me to bed and warm me.” Tracing a finger across his chest, she made a soft purring sound. “From the inside out.”

With a growl, he lifted her in his arms and carried her back to bed. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

* * * * *

Castello knocked on the door of the three-story colonial nestled in the historic district of Harrisburg. It was near midnight, and his head and shoulders ached. The red-eye to Philadelphia had been long and miserable.

He glanced at the man beside him. Luke Edgars had stuck to him like gum on the sidewalk. Even though he’d had no business at the crime scene of Leslie’s murder, Luke had insisted on coming along.

Frank gave the guy credit though. Unlike most rookies Luke hadn’t lost his lunch during the crime scene walk-through.

Remembering Leslie’s tortured body tied to that metal chair in the storage locker nauseated Frank. An ache to smash his fist into something ripped through him.

“And why is it we’re here visiting Strict’s lawyer instead of on our way to find my brother?” Luke asked, stepping back to look around the well-to-do neighborhood.

“I’m here because with Leslie’s death, we have no idea where Gideon is going, or what he has planned next. One way or another, I’m getting information out of Strict’s lawyer.” Castello rapped on the door once more. Harder. “You’re here to keep an eye on me for your brother, get in my way, and generally piss me off.”

Luke gave him a lopsided grin. “Okay, just so we know what our roles are.”

“You should’ve stayed in Columbus.”

“Like I told you before. If anything we find will help my brother, I’m gonna call him.”

Castello ground his teeth as lights in the house turned on. “And like I told you, I’ll call him myself. I want Katie safe as much as you two do.”

Luke just grinned that good-buddy grin at him once more. “Frankly, your track record sucks with Matt and me.”

Before Frank could punch half of Luke’s teeth down his throat, the front door opened.

“Who the hell are you, and why are you pounding on my door at this hour of night?” The fiftyish, heavy-set bald man asked, as he squinted at them with a scowl on his face.

Oh yeah, he was going to like making this guy sweat.

“Frank Castello, U.S. Marshals, Mr. Pike.” Frank shoved his ID in the man’s face.

Strict’s lawyer instantly paled. “You could’ve made an appointment with my secretary in the morning,” he blustered, trying to cover his first reaction.

“This matter couldn’t wait.” Frank stepped forward. “You don’t mind if we talk inside, do you, Mr. Pike?”

“Might as well come in and get this over with.” Pike held the door for them then led them to a wood-paneled library. “But I can assure you, I’ll be speaking with your superiors, Marshals.”