Hunter's Prey, A (11 page)

She'd let herself be hunted then. She'd let herself become a prey to his viciousness. To his raw masculine spirit. There was nothing she wanted more, actually.

His muscles were straining against his shirt, indicating he'd been for a run. She knew he had recently shifted – everything in the posture of his body screamed it. It was eerie how she knew him so well already, but it seems she'd discovered some of his buttons and loved to push it.

One of those is me. I'm a weakness for him.

And she plan to exploit it. Herself.

Spreading her own legs open in front of him, Zoe smiled coyly as she pushed a manicured digit inside her mouth to moisten it before dragging it through her folds, making a point to moan loudly, licking her lips before biting her lower one. She knew from experience he loved biting her lips, biting anything of hers. Nipping and nibbling, suckling – he loved doing all those things to her, and she enjoyed it, in return.

His pained groan was testament to how much he wanted her, and as though that wasn't enough, his cock pressed against the constricting fabric of his jeans, begging to be let out. In a couple of swift motions, Damian released it, stroking it like a pet monster waiting to pounce.

Zoe was feeling slightly dizzy from the lack of oxygen to her brain, her blood increasingly heading south.

She read it in his eyes that he was about to snap and decided to prolong the torture, giving him a show he was unlikely to forget.

“Wait,” she said. “I need to know.”

“What?” he growled, barely holding himself together. She saw his clenched fists, his pursed lips. He was on the verge and she was pushing it.

“I need to know if this pleases you.”

Wordlessly, she pushed the robe off her body and lifted herself to her knees before turning around on hands and knees, parting her legs and leaning down on the couch to rest her head on her hands, her moist slit available for him.

She heard his gasp and felt the sizzling electricity in the air, but she had no idea what he would do. There was a rustling of clothes and zippers and then she felt him behind her. He didn't feel like a man bent on taking her – he felt like a force of nature bent on destroying her. She was helpless to stop him.

Her moans spurred him. He nudged his cock in her cleft, parting her creamy lips and driving the head of his harness through her lips, gathering moisture, before pushing softly inside her. She held her breath until he was lodged firmly in, moving his hips to adjust the angle, relishing the sensations of being inside her. She felt him stretching her so deliciously. It was a miracle that he could hold himself off, but she realized he was doing it for her, to get her off. Soon he started thrusting slowly – sturdy, shallow plunges that made her arch her back and push back into him for more contact, more penetration, more.

“Jesus, woman,” he groaned, grabbing her hips to hold her off or push her closer, or
something.
She didn't know. She was past caring.

“Harder, Damian. Be an animal with me, I can take it.”

“Oh, God.” Feeling his gums tingle, Damian wondered if he could hold off biting her tonight, praying he wouldn't succumb to his weakness. He was too far gone, though, unable to stop completely, caring too much about being inside her, feeling her inner walls clench around him, squeezing him dry. Every single bit of his seed would go inside her, and even though he couldn't impregnate her yet –
yet,
his mind stressed – the mere fact that this was the only woman who could bare him a child made him crazy with desire.

His thoughts were interrupted by repetitive spasms around his hardness that took him by surprise, launching him into a sizzling orgasm, joining her in bliss before collapsing on her for a few minutes. There was nothing but silence for a while, but sometime through it he carried her to the bed, setting her on bright sheets, and placing her against him, unable to lose contact with her skin.

He let her recover, sensing the powerful climax had robbed her of her wit, rendering the big bad CEO into little more than a quiet girl, confused and completely satisfied. He liked thinking of her as a little girl, wanting to protect her that much more. He found himself wanting to be everything to her – a lover, a protector, a companion.

“When exactly did you start feeling guilty about those people who died in war?” she asked quite randomly, her voice muffled by the contact of her lips with his skin.

“Fuck,” he cursed, rubbing his face. “Who told you that?”

Lifting her head to look at him, she smirked. “Who do you think?”

Placing a hand on her head to put it back on his shoulder, he growled half-playfully. “It seems my brother is flirting with Death.”

“You wouldn't kill Dominic.” She placed her head on his chest gently, resisting his pressure, nuzzling into his skin in a way that made his heart skip a beat and his arm jump to envelop her shoulder. “You love him too much.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured into his neck, inhaling deeply once before she was out cold. He could sense the exact moment she became unconscious, her body falling into him completely, suffusing him with warmth.

This woman definitely possessed the power to unman him completely, giving him such a deep sense of satisfaction that he forgot everything – that he was a shifter, a trillionaire, a scarred man trying to make amends.

Sighing, he grabbed the remote control, realizing he wouldn't fall asleep. Turning on the TV, something he almost never did, he set it on mute and watched through the motion pictures silently, feeling his mind full of questions and his heart full of
something.
Looking down at the tuft of brown hair tucked under his chin, he realized it was
full of her.

Before he could exhale he froze, his eyes catching an image he hadn't thought he'd see on the news together with the headline he couldn't believe he was reading:
Single female HUNTER Holdings CEO ever, sleeping with dazzling trillionaire.
Turning up the volume, he felt his blood run cold at the realization that nothing would ever be the same again.

We're screwed.

***

“You can say that again,” the frail-looking woman said, nodding resolutely. She seemed determined, an odd light shining in her eyes. She was blonde, medium-tall, slim, and elegant in her light pink three piece suit. She called it champagne pink. In a way she reminded Damian of Zoe, but the two women seemed as different as the sun and the moon. Where Zoe was hot and passionate, Isabel Hopkins was cool and balanced, emanating some sort of inner strength, the kind of warmth that manipulated. She sort of appeared quite bubbly, too, which didn't match his first impression of her, but fitted the color of her clothes, at least.

Well. At least she was good at what she did, since she was already calming them.

“So you'll listen to every word I say,” the twenty-four year old woman said, nodding as she spoke. She did that a lot, Damian noticed.

“Excuse me, Miss Hopkins, but exactly what will you have us do?”

Damian noticed how tense Zoe was. In the morning she'd barely spoken a word to him after accidentally watching the news before he had had the chance to warn her. He'd been asleep then and she'd had enough time to surf the Web for more of the same speculations, her mind filling with the crazy filth the press were dishing. He couldn't let her freeze like this, so he'd done the only thing he'd been able to think of: call a PR specialist to get them out of the mess.

Despite her ridiculous age, Isabel was renowned for fixing all sorts of situations. She'd worked with huge companies – large conglomerates and giants in the business world, and almost no one knew of her directly. She was so good that she only worked upon recommendations, only for the big wig clients, after screening them and finding them satisfactory... or not. He knew this would be the chance of a lifetime for her – to work for one of the Hunters. He certainly had never imagined he would be in this situation.

Leon had called him in the morning.
Leon,
of all people. Damian remembered sweating a bit, almost picturing the millennium-old Viking teleporting his hand through the receiver and throttling him for being so careless.

How had they found out?

Nevertheless, they needed to solve this. He couldn't have Zoe's reputation dragged through the mud. Even though this was nobody's business but theirs, people gossiped, and she'd never be taken seriously if they didn't do some damage control.

“You know how appearances are everything,” Isabel explained. “What appears on the outside satisfies people, and they starve for more of it. You don't have to
be
it, you can just
fake
it. Now I'm not going to ask questions, not going to judge. Personally, this all seems a bit silly. If this wasn't a trillion dollar company that clearly discriminates against women, the fact that you and Miss Jameson should have sexual relationships wouldn't even cause a tiny wave, not to mention the tsunami we're dealing with.”

Damian wanted to say something, but she stopped him.

“Uh-uh. Hush-hush. I'm right. I'm always right. And you're going to do as I say.”

For a petite blonde, she was surely bossy.

***

Zoe wondered how she'd found herself in such a predicament. For all her willingness to seduce Damian and have him for herself, now that the whole world knew about it and thought her a whore for it put her off a bit.

He seemed determined, though, and it drove her crazy. It was as though a flip had been switched inside him the moment he'd heard the news. For her it had been quite the opposite. She'd been turned off reading those headlines, realizing that people were right. What if Damian had contributed to her quick ascension?

Ridiculous. He didn't even want you on that board.

Or had he? Maybe he had played a game to get her with him, keep her close.

Every single word she'd read or heard over the last few days had been a silver knife driving the message home. Isabel Hopkins, with all her poise and calm, had not been able to bring her peace. She'd staved off the storm, though, yes, and now it seemed that the clouds were withdrawing. She had come up with the amazing solution to have them become a couple, showing people that they were serious and newly in love. Outside of that was the business world, in which Zoe made every effort to show her worth. Vaguely, she remembered being worried about Damian's reaction to the decision of being together in appearance. For his part, though, he'd seemed... relieved. As though he'd been fighting against his feelings for too long and he was exhausted and unwilling to do anything else but surrender.

The last couple of days they'd spent in a very domestic way. He'd kept his hands off her, sure, though not for lack of desire, but for respect for her confusion. She was still hazy, still too raw from the pain of being abused by the press.

Damian had worked around the clock to discover the source of the information leak, knowing that the probability of anyone finding out about them had been low to begin with.

He was going crazy, seeing her like this. The shell of a woman he held in his arms at night wasn't his Zoe – this one needed resuscitating. She didn't need to be tiptoed around, like he'd been doing. She needed to be shaken, to be jolted a bit.

And it was high time he took her. For good. For his own.

He'd been driving himself up the walls with need for her, but had also been worried sick for her mental health. She needed support, not challenge right now, and he could give her that, but first he needed to
possess.
There was no time to explain the mate bond properly, but he'd do his best, and then he'd take her. He just couldn't wait anymore.

“Zoe?”

Entering the living room, he found her sitting on an armchair, reading a book. She did that a lot when she was hurting – read books. Under his observation she'd read all sorts of things like marketing, lean management, success stories – even weird things like homeopathy, hormonal imbalances and metabolic pathways. She was a geek through and through – he thought fondly, realizing he could use her intellect to bounce ideas off her and brainstorm his next formula. He looked forward to those experiences with her, imagining them ending with a session of hot sex among chemicals and microscopes.