Hunter Mourned (Wild Hunt Book 3) (17 page)

“If you’re talking about me, I’m happy you feel that way, but I’m not a former angel, incubus, or demigod. I’m human. I can’t compete with Lucas.”

She linked her arms around his neck. “Yes, I know, but you’re not just any human. You’re—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “Stop. I don’t want to replace your dead mate. I don’t want to compete with his memory. And I sure as hell don’t want to hear about him while I’m in bed with you.”

She licked the tip of Trevor’s finger, then drew the length inside, swirling her tongue around it. “I know you don’t, but we need to talk about him. I think you might be his reincarnation.”

He snorted, but he drew her closer so her breasts pressed against his chest. “I’d like to say I don’t believe in stuff like that, but after the stories I’ve heard, I know it’s real.”

“It is. Very real. I think that’s why this feels so right between us. Our souls were once bonded. Death severed our tie, but our souls remember the connection.”
Thanks to Minerva.
“And fate has given us another chance to reform our bond.”

He closed his eyes, but not soon enough to hide the sadness in them. Silence stretched. Each second seemed to put space between them. She’d hurt him with her words. She hadn’t meant to.

“Trevor, I—”

“It’s already almost three, and I’m getting too old to be able to function on two hours’ sleep, especially after not sleeping yesterday.” He released her and lay back. “Come here.” He patted the bed a third time. “I want to fall asleep with you in my arms.”

Why did all the males in her life change the subject when they decided they were done talking about something? It was frustrating, but she’d learned not to push them. She’d simply look for another opportunity to bring the subject up. She’d waited too long for her second chance at love to screw things up with Trevor.

“Yes, okay.” She settled next to him on the bed, her back to his chest. He tucked his legs behind hers and covered her belly with his hand.

With his lips brushing her neck, he said, “Let everything go, Rowan. The thoughts of reincarnation, what’s happening between us, the stuff with your father and Minerva, the evil lurking out in the world. Just let it go and sleep. I have you.”

She nodded. “Yes, okay.”

He kissed her temple, then laid his head on the pillow next to hers. After a few minutes, his breathing slowed, and his tense muscles eased with sleep.

She listened to the steady rhythm of his breaths and tried to follow him, but the intimate position sped her pulse. Kai used to sleep spooned behind her too, and he’d always brushed his lips over her temple before dozing off.

I shouldn’t be thinking about Kai while I’m in bed with Trevor.

She was having trouble separating them, however. It didn’t help when Trevor did things that reminded her of Kai. But how far would she take it? Would she start comparing their skills in bed? She’d like to think she wouldn’t, but she didn’t want to take that chance.

There was only one way she could think of to prevent that. She needed to come to terms with Kai’s death and her failure. Luckily, the anniversary of his death was just around the corner. It would be the last time she shed tears over the loss of her love.

It couldn’t come fast enough.

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

The woman drove him nuts and drew him closer as no other had. Trevor had barely managed to keep his frustration to himself. How was he supposed to compete with a man who’d lived and died over a thousand years ago? Yeah, he understood where Rowan was going with the reincarnation topic. She thought he was her dead mate, version two. Maybe he was? What did he know? It wasn’t as if he could remember his past lives the way the maidens could.

In the end, it didn’t matter. He was Trevor—a thirty-year-old man who’d never dated a woman for more than a few weeks. It hadn’t been for lack of trying. After Ian had gotten serious with his ex, Trevor had tried to find something similar. It hadn’t worked too well. He had a great knack of pissing off any girl who managed to put up with his shit, postsex.

So far, he hadn’t annoyed Rowan enough to have her start threatening him with bodily harm. Then again, being with her didn’t feel stressful, as if he had to put on a performance every time they got together. She fit him. He couldn’t explain it any better than that.

Love at first sight or some shit.

He almost snorted at the thought but didn’t want to wake Rowan. She’d rolled onto her back, giving him a moment to study her. He didn’t want to lose it. The second she focused those dark green eyes on him, his resistance would snap. Already his dick was hard and achy. He needed to slip inside her warmth and lose himself.

Her black hair was spread over the white sheets, offering a contrast of light and dark. Her personality fit that description too. Both sides of her—the good and dangerous—appealed to him. He respected her desire to fight for those who were unable to defend themselves. He’d always tried to do the same. That was part of the reason he’d partnered with Ian to build their security business.

The police could do only so much for victims before cases went cold or funds dwindled. Once they moved on to new crimes, those who’d been wronged were left to fend for themselves. That was where private firms came in, and theirs had made a difference in a lot of people’s lives. They’d provided the authorities with valuable leads and averted dozens of catastrophes.

Soon he’d get to do more. Save innocents from those creatures who grew stronger from their victim’s pain and fear.

He couldn’t wait to ride, but he hated that Rowan had exposed herself to danger in order to talk to Arawn about him. There’d been no reason for her to go. Calan or one of the others could’ve gone. At least her run-in with Lucas had been brief and the incubus hadn’t tried to steal her away from him.

She wouldn’t go again. He didn’t care if he had to lock her to his side. He would not lose her to some fallen angel who wanted to use her as a tool in his plan to escape Hell. It was bad enough she was forced to play in the Triad’s fucked-up game of good versus evil. Whenever she drew the short straw in that game, he’d be there for her, helping her figure out her challenge.

With the barest touch, he skimmed a finger down her arm to the stretchy black glove hiding the mark of her curse. She wore a matching one on her other hand to hide her partial mate mark. He’d never seen her without them.

He brushed his thumb along the edge of her glove. The fingerless ones she’d chosen reached a couple of inches past her wrist. He wanted them off her. She shouldn’t hide either mark. They were testimonies of her strength and endurance. The temptation to peel them from her hands built into a compulsion, but he settled for stroking his finger over her palm. The gloves were her shield. Losing them was her choice, not his.

She parted her plump lips on a long exhaled sigh, then curved them in a small smile. Lust shot straight to his balls.

The woman had a hold over him. A dangerous one that made him ravenous for her. He wanted to devour her. Savor her. Keep her in bed with him all night. Too bad that couldn’t happen. Darkness was fast approaching. The Hunt had to be called.

He glanced at the clock. They had a little less than an hour before the Hunters gathered in the yard to call forth their horses and hounds from the Underworld. It wasn’t enough time to worship Rowan the way he craved, but he wasn’t about to lose the moment to love her.

He rested his hand on her hip and pressed his lips to her plump breast. The first flick of his tongue brought her flavor to him. Vanilla. The taste flooded his senses, exactly as it had when he’d worshiped her sex. He’d thought he’d been imagining it, but he hadn’t. She tasted and smelled like vanilla. His new addiction. He couldn’t get enough of her. He inhaled deeply, intoxicating himself on her rich scent, and licked her breast from one side to the valley between the full globes.

“Trevor.”

His name in her sleepy voice sounded good, but what brought a smile to his lips was the fact that she used it immediately. She knew who was in bed with her. Knew who was loving her.

He dragged his flattened tongue over her nipple. “Did I wake you?”

“Yes, but I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

She traced his jaw, and her eyelids lowered. The look was one he wanted to memorize. Lust and appreciation mixed, giving him a glimpse into her desires. She wanted him. Needed him as much as he did her.

“I’m sure.”

“Good.” He turned his head and drew the tip of her finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the exposed section before letting it slip free. “Because I’ve woken up craving you.”

“Have you now?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He rolled on top of her, and his cock slipped between her thighs. Arousal already slickened her lower lips. She was ready for him, and he’d barely touched her. “You know what I want too.”

“Me?” she asked with a wicked grin on her face.

“Yes, and I’m taking you.” He shifted his hips and joined them with one steady stroke. Her body conformed to his rigid length, molding around him perfectly.
As if made for me. Not Lucas. Not her dead mate. For
me
.
“You’re mine, Rowan. Mine. No one else’s. Do you understand? And I will take you when I want. How I want.”

The possessiveness riding him shocked him, but he couldn’t deny the intense emotion. Rowan fit him. Physically, emotionally—she was his perfect match. She’d even put up with his shit for weeks while he’d recovered. He’d been grumpy and angry. He’d hated feeling weak and helpless. She’d matched his attitude, getting him riled up. He’d needed that. Needed the diversion she’d offered. Needed…

“You.” He kissed her, first her cheeks, her nose, her forehead before rubbing his lips over hers. “I need you. Don’t freaking know how I survived without you.”

“And I need you to fix me. Make me right again. You’re the only one who can.”

“Yeah?” He rocked into her, slowly, and enjoyed how her lashes fluttered each time he filled her. “Saying stuff like that gives me power, Rowan.”

She gripped his ass and pulled him closer while she lifted her hips. Their groins smacked, and sparks zinged down his spine. The sharp press of her claws in his backside stopped him from repeating the hard stroke.

“Does it?” The teasing smirk on her face was both mischievous and lighthearted. He liked seeing it, knowing he’d put it there. “Well, after the comment you just made, I’d say we both have power, then.”

She shifted her hips, screwing herself on his dick. More energy whipped through him, leaving him sensitized and achy. He needed to move, needed to fuck her. Only the drag and grip of her inner muscles over his length would ease the pressure in his cock. He couldn’t move, though. She held him exactly where she wanted him, proving her point.

“Maybe.” He cupped her face and leaned close so her dark and sensual eyes filled his vision. “But if you don’t let me move, I’m going to come, and that’s going to end our loving too damn soon. I won’t be able to make it through the night without shoving you against the wall and fucking you. It won’t matter where we are. If you tease me enough, I’m dragging you into another dark alley or maybe a bathroom, and I’m taking you again. Hard and fast until I lose myself inside you.”

The skin by her eyes crinkled. No doubt there was a wicked smile on her face to match her throaty chuckle. “Well, that sounds more like a promise than a threat.”

And that’s why I’m falling in love with this woman.

He reached behind him and grasped her wrists. His cock pushed deeper into her with the move, and a soft gasp escaped her parted lips. Eyes closed, she pressed her head into the pillow. Her claws retracted. He yanked her hands off him, and pushed them into the mattress on either side of her head. She curled her fingers, holding on to him, and wiggled her bottom, a silent demand he move.

“Promise. Threat. Doesn’t make a difference. The next time I need you, you’ll welcome me.” He swiped his tongue over her lips. “Won’t you?”

“Yes.”

He pulled his hips back, slipping his dick from her core, then pressed the head to her center. “Say my name, Rowan. I want you to admit who has the right to your body.”

“You do, Kai.” Her eyelids flew open. Shock and horror wiped away the lust. “I’m sorry. Oh gods, I’m sorry.”

Kai.

Trevor finally found out the name of her dead mate, the guy she believed he was the reincarnation of. Fucking hell of a great time to learn it. He rolled off her body and jumped from the bed. Jealousy and frustration tightened a noose around his chest. He clenched his hands. He needed to pound on something. Hopefully, Zeph had set up the punching bag. That thing was going to get a lot of use. He was glad he’d ordered the heavy-duty style.

Rowan wrapped her arms around him from behind. “I’m sorry, Trevor. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, sure. I know.” And he did. The knowledge did ease the dark emotions gripping him. If he didn’t get away from Rowan, he’d take it out on her. He didn’t want that. She couldn’t help whom she’d loved first or how deeply his memory was ingrained in her mind.

He shoved her arms off him and walked to the bathroom. He’d left his clothes on the hook of the door. He snatched them and turned. Rowan stood naked in the middle of the room, except for her gloved hands covering her face. The light from the bathroom gave him a perfect view of one side of her. Her shoulders were slumped and her hair hung forward.

He went to her and brushed her hair away from her face. “Rowan, it’s okay, I just need to get out of here before I snap at you. I don’t want to do that.”

She didn’t answer him. He curled his fingers around her wrists and gently pulled them away from her face. No tears showed in her eyes. Frustration did.

“Hey.” He waited until she looked at him. “Don’t worry. I’m not mad. This can’t be easy on you, and my damn possessive attitude probably isn’t helping. I shouldn’t be saying that you’re mine so soon. We’ve just gotten together.”

If his words were hurting her, he’d keep them to himself. At least until she was ready to hear them. He wasn’t giving up on her.