Wolf Slayer (The Order of the Wolf) (5 page)

Chapter Nine

She struggled. He liked that.

“Let me go.” She twisted her hips as she lifted her knee to try and hit him. “You have no right—”

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He pushed against her, pressing his body to hers, caging her with his bulk. He nipped her neck, then licked the same luscious spot.
Mmm, salty
. “I want to fuck you, Aubrey.” He ground his cock against her stomach, knowing he was being rough, needing her to understand how desperate he was to sink into her.

“I…I…” She stammered as he sucked on her throat, moaned when he kissed her skin all the way to her lips, latching on the second he got there.

She stopped struggling as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, stroking her, devouring her. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, and he could feel the heat of her pussy through both their clothes. With a low growl, he released her wrists and she immediately entangled her hands in his hair, tugging as she spread her fingers against the back of his head, pulling him closer, if that was possible.

With his hands on her ass, he walked them into the front sitting room, luckily one that was under-utilized. Not that he cared—he would fuck her right on the staircase in the foyer at the moment.

He set her down, kneeling in front of her, lips still locked, hands now roaming. She had the tiniest waist, and her body was lean and tight in all the right places. He slipped a hand under her shirt, his fingers trailing along her soft skin. He stroked her breasts, one after the other. They were small to match her body but enough for him, her perky little nipples straining against the cotton of her bra. He growled as she slipped her hand down between his legs to stroke his cock and balls through his pants, rubbing him into a frenzy.

He pulled his lips away to stare down at her. “Naked. Now.”

She glanced over his shoulder, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face. He held his breath. She met his stare once again and smiled before pulling away to rip her shirt up over her head. She had her jeans peeled from her body in record time as well. She tossed them aside and locked eyes with him, this time with a wicked grin. Brave, bold, sexy as fucking hell. He liked that too. His wolf prowled in the background, nudging toward the prize.

Bite her. Claim her. Make her ours.

He leaned in, licked her neck again, right where he was going to mark her. Right there in the tender curve, the sweetest spot He sucked her skin briefly, then moved his hand around her back, unhooked her bra then tossed it aside. He trailed his lips down to her jutting, pebble-sized, pink little nipples.

Her hands were in his hair again, pushing him down, urging him to continue exploring her body. It was all the invitation he could ever want. One last lick of her nipples and he went straight for his prize, hooked his fingers around the crotch of her panties and pulled them away from her glistening, soaking wet pussy. He wanted to taste her right there. Her swollen folds beckoning him. He moaned, spread her thighs wider, licked his lips and then licked hers.

She gasped as he plunged his tongue into her, sucking her juices into his mouth before pulling out and continuing up. Her clit, a little hard pearl begged for a taste. He gave one teasing lick that had her clenching her fingers tightly in his hair then pulled the bud into his mouth and sucked it hard. She bucked against him, pressing him closer, begging with her body. He liked that. He stroked her thigh, her skin so soft and silky, his touch raised tiny goose bumps as he trailed his fingers closer to her pussy. He wanted to feel her wrapped tightly around his fingers, wanted to know what to look forward to when he penetrated her with his cock.

He rolled his tongue over her clit, dipping down to suck on her lips then continuing the cycle as he slipped two fingers into her pussy, easing into the tight sheath, moaning against her flesh at the warm, wet cushion that hugged him. It was almost too much to bear—the anticipation, the need. His wolf growled, its desire mounting.

Claim her. She is ours.

Jaylon hooked his fingers up, rubbed along the roof of her sheath until he felt that unmistakable little bump, then pressed in hard, stroking her into a writhing frenzy, licking, sucking, unrelenting until she let out a long moan, her body arched, her head hanging back, her pussy quivering. He didn’t stop until she fell limp, languid, legs spread wide in invitation.

He pulled back and licked his lips again, then tugged her panties down her legs and tossed them aside. With a smile that he knew was cocky as shit, he stared down at what he’d done. Her pussy was dripping, her body open, her hands above her head. Eyes hooded, her lips curled into a satisfied smile.

He unzipped his pants, pushed them to his knees, grabbed her ankles and pulled her closer to the edge of the settee. Without another wasted second, he plunged his dick in to the hilt. She took him with a moan, her legs wrapped around his hips, her body already rocking, urging him to move.

He laid his thumb against her swollen clit, and began to stroke as he rolled his hips, her pussy so tight around his cock that he thought he might be hurting her. She was so wet though, her juices soaking his balls, his cock sliding in and out like a well oiled piston. She was watching him too, her eyes never straying from their joined bodies, biting her bottom lip as she flicked and pinched her nipples.

“Look at me, Aubrey.”

She snapped her gaze up to his, locked on and he shivered. He wanted to look into her soul but it felt like she was looking into his.

As the intensity of the moment flooded through him, he came so violently that he yelled his release, cursing as jets of come spurted into her. She didn’t flinch away, not until her own orgasm took hold, his thumb pressed firmly to her clit, rubbing hard as she bucked and spasmed.

He was loath to pull out. His cock still semi-hard, it wouldn’t take much to fire him up again. But she unlatched her legs, sat up, pushed against his chest.

His cock slid out as he sat back on his heels, watching as she scrambled to pick up her discarded clothes.

“You’re the wrong kinda man for me, Jaylon.”

Her words hit like a sledgehammer. His heart contracted, like it was shriveling up, crawling back into its hole. After what had just happened—more than sex, so much more than a physical act.

He clenched his jaw, determined to show her nothing but indifference. Fuck her. And then she turned and looked at him. With tears glistening in those beautiful eyes, he knew she wasn’t taking a shot at him. This was about her.

“I’m not setting myself up for another fall. Rejection and me, we don’t play well together. You make me lust, you make me want to say things that I have no business saying.” She choked on her words. Swallowed hard, wiped her cheek, brushing at the tears angrily. “Especially to someone I’ve just met. Th-th-this was a mistake.”

He stood, wanting to speak, to move to her and wrap her up, protect her from her pain. A pain he didn’t totally understand.

“I’m not the right one for you either, Jay. I was meant for something else.” She paused again. Breathed in deep, blew it out. “Or at least I thought I was. Now I think my destiny is to be alone.” She slipped her clothes on quickly and, without another glance in his direction, walked away from him.

And then he knew. He’d had suspicions after what she’d said at dinner about her sister finding her mate. Aubrey had no idea she was a Huntress. For whatever reason, Aubrey believed that—where her sister had been chosen and claimed by her destined Hunter—she didn’t have the same potential. She had no idea it was only a matter of time before a Hunter came looking for her. And she wanted it. She wanted it badly. To belong. To be claimed. Just as she’d been raised to believe.

She’d just upped the stakes. He needed to break down her walls and get that heart of hers, because the first chance a Hunter got would be the only chance the bastard would need.

Chapter Ten

She’d been avoiding him for days. Probably not the most mature thing to do, but facing him was more than difficult and not because she was embarrassed or because she didn’t like him. Certainly not because she thought she’d made a mistake, even though that was what she’d told him. Sex had not been a mistake. She’d made a conscious choice. Sleep with Jaylon, put a wedge between herself and the Hunters. Tainted by another man. No longer pure, untouched. No longer waiting for something she could never have. She’d made that choice and it hadn’t been a mistake.

What she hadn’t been even remotely prepared for was how intensely she’d feel for him in that moment. That moment when they both reached the peak of ultimate release. That moment of pure bliss. Eyes locked, a link forming that she couldn’t bear. A connection she couldn’t understand. Who was this man? What had he done to her? In that moment, she had forgotten about her sorrow, her loss, she had forgotten about her pathetic life and being an outcast. In that moment, she belonged with him. Only him.

And that was some scary shit.

Shit she didn’t want to deal with.

Just like she didn’t want to deal with her sister, who’d been calling and calling her for days. Leaving message after message. She’d listened to the first one, where Corra was almost unintelligible, ranting about some prophesy, just another ruse to get Aubrey to call her back. She’d stopped listening to those that came after that.

Aubrey was in full on avoidance mode. Letting the calls go to voice mail and only seeing Jaylon at the forced “family” dinners, where she would eat quickly then sequester herself in her room, claiming a headache or planning—or something.

Luckily, she didn’t see him ever during the day and Darcy kept her busy with trips out of town, shopping, shows, whatever. So, with the exception of the fifteen tension-filled minutes it took her to fork a bunch of food into her mouth at dinnertime, she didn’t have to even think about Jaylon.

Right
.

Except for the dreams she was having about him. Or the fantasies that always led to touching herself. Or the hoping—always hoping—that she’d turn the corner and bump into him.

Yeah, she wasn’t thinking about him at all.

What she was doing was attempting to keep busy. Planning the upcoming tour, looking at maps of the various venues, hotels, et cetera. Training, always training.

She picked up a menu, scanned the page for the hundredth time, then put it down again. She was waiting at a small pub for the two men she’d contacted about joining her security team. She was missing out on a “family” dinner, with Mayhem’s permission of course. She wanted to feel relieved at the break from the band, but all she felt was restless, agitated, like that fifteen minutes of just being in Jaylon’s presence at dinner was sorely missed. It was ridiculous how much he invaded her thoughts, her emotions. For goodness sake, the man was practically a stranger.

Yeah, a stranger who you’d been deeply intimate with. A man you gave your virginity to. Ugh.

She shoved those thoughts away, trying desperately to keep herself focused on the task at hand. Hire security.

“Bree. Nice to see you again.”

She snapped her gaze up to find Chris—blond, built, and hotter than hot. She’d known him most of her life, his family being Order supporters just as hers was. Young, early twenties, he was part of her and her sister’s cohort of Hunter/Huntress hopefuls, training together at times, socializing together often. He was a trusted family friend—someone she could count on to watch her back.

“Chris,” she said as she stood and quickly embraced him.

“This is Gareth.” Chris nodded to the right, where another hulking young man stood.

Aubrey shook hands, knowing Gareth to see him but not ever having spoken. He was handsome as well, dark where Chris was fair, totally on par with what she liked. And yet she felt nothing, no spark, no interest. If anything, looking at Gareth made her miss Jaylon even more. She gave her head a minute shake, hoping to rattle her brain back into working order and dislodge Jaylon once and for all. “Thanks for coming. Why don’t we order some food?” She motioned for the men to sit. “And I’ll fill you in on the job details.”

Aubrey briefed the men as they inhaled their dinners. Big men, big appetites. She pecked at hers, not at all feeling the urge to consume anything, her thoughts stubbornly shifting to the band and how they were probably all sitting around the grand dining room table, eating, talking, joking.

“I heard about your sister,” Chris said between mouthfuls of his third burger. “Congratulations.”

Aubrey sucked in a deep breath and dropped the fry she’d been toying with, her appetite gone for good. “Yeah, she’s happy. Settling in and training.”

Chris nodded, “We all thought maybe you’d be called forth too.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Sorry to hear it didn’t happen.”

Aubrey shrugged off the sting and took a sip of her water. “It is what it is. Can’t control destiny, I guess.”

“For what’s it’s worth, I think you should be. You’re prime Huntress material.” Chris leaned back and rested his hands on his stomach. “It’s good that you’re moving on, though.”

“Yeah, thanks.” She shook her head and forced a smile. “All that training can’t go to waste, right?”

Chris nodded toward Gareth, who was still mowing down on his heaping plate of food. “I guess we’re all in the same situation. We’re too old now for the mark. No use to the Order. Not directly, anyway.”

Gareth and Chris were both Hunter candidates, both coming from a long line of Hunters. Highly trained and loyal Order supporters, they lived off-site from the actual Order compound. Neither had been called forth. For Hunter hopefuls, the call only came when the mysterious wolf tattoo appeared somewhere on their bodies. A mark triggered by some kind of werewolf encounter. It seemed to depend on the sensitivity of the Hunter and the body’s readiness to receive whatever their particular magical ability was. When they got their mark, they joined the Order and began an intensive training regimen, which included not only mastering their special magical skill, but also learning the more secret aspects of the Order’s legacy and, of course, continuing with their physical training and fighting techniques. The inner working of the Order as well as which Hunter candidates actually came to be selected remained mysterious to those on the outside. Even though it was not totally understood, the initiation into the Order was generally believed to be reserved for the very young. Chris and Gareth had not been chosen. Duds in the Hunter world.

Outcasts.
Aubrey bit back the word, but it was true. They were all outcasts.

“Never say never,” Gareth said as he popped something deep-fried into his mouth. “There’s nothing that says we won’t be called forth still. No age limit.”

Chris screwed up his face, looking like he’d just sucked on a lemon slice. “You’re living in delusion land, my friend. Everyone at this table knows that the mark, and in Bree’s case, the call, comes at a young age. Ain’t no Huntress or Hunter chosen after twenty-five.”

“Not yet, no, but much of our ancestry is shrouded in mystery and we’re not yet twenty-five. No one really knows…”

“You’re a dreamer.” Chris scoffed. “Shut up and eat your food.” He glanced back at Aubrey with a wink. “We’ll take the job. Sounds like fun. Just two questions, though. When do we meet the band and would it be unprofessional to ask for autographs?”

Before she’d stepped over the threshold into the mansion, Jaylon was there, towering over her, eyes blazing, fingers wrapped tightly around one wrist.

“Where were you?” he growled.

Aubrey flinched, yanked her arm back. Futile gesture really, but instinct drove her to fight. “Let go of me.”

He glared down at her for a heartbeat, silent communication passing between them. She saw things in his eyes again, things speaking of possession, desire. He inhaled deeply and growled again.

“Who were you with?”

She frowned, twisted her arm again. “I was meeting with my new security team, if you must know. Now let me go.”

He actually looked a little sheepish but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he slid his hand down to entwine his fingers with hers. “I have something to show you,” he said as he tugged her forward. “Come with me.”

She sighed, thought about digging her heels in, knew it would be pointless. “Fine.”

He led her outside, into the forest.

“The wolf—” Aubrey started.

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m here with you.”

She bristled—she wasn’t worried about herself.
She’d been trained as a wolf hunter!
It was him she was worried about. She opened her mouth to argue when she was struck speechless by the
something
he had to show her.

In a small clearing, illuminated by hundreds of tiny lights, was another target area, this one more extravagant than the one before. Her gaze jumped from one target to another. Some were high in trees, moving back and forth, rigged up in some way that she couldn’t wrap her head around. The lights cast a beautiful and yet eerie glow on the area, like stars blanketing their little spot in the forest.

“Solar lights,” he whispered as he swept his hand toward the array. “You like it?”

Aubrey swallowed, didn’t really want to look at him. It was beautiful, both in the way it looked and the gesture. Thoughtful, considerate, so much work. “I don’t understand.” Maybe not the right words, but the only ones that she could force out. She was tripping over the thoughts that she really wanted to speak. “Why?”

Jaylon tugged her arm, forcing her to look at him, and when she did her heart thumped faster, harder. He was smiling, his eyes full of hope. “I want you to teach me how to shoot.” He pointed to a nearby tree. Leaning against the trunk was her bow case and another bow for him—black, brand new, a quiver of arrows next to it, bright blue feathers catching her eye. Beautiful. “I’d like to do something that you love.”

Aubrey felt a lump rise to her throat, emotion making it hard to swallow. If she opened her mouth now, she would choke on her words, words she didn’t have the nerve to say. She nodded and forced a smile. This man, how he unnerved her.

He didn’t force her to answer or respond, like he knew how hard this was for her. Behaving so differently from days before…all the harsh, cold, blunt words and attitude vanished, replaced with this generosity, understanding. She didn’t get it. He was throwing her off. Confusing her. It would be a hell of a lot easier to forget about him if he continued to act like an ass. Her heart was already at risk when he wasn’t behaving like Prince Charming.

He released her hand and jogged to the weapons. Moments later, he brought both to her, the smile never leaving his face. “You’re going to have to start from the very basics. I don’t even think this thing is strung properly.”

She nodded again, her mind immediately shifting to practical thoughts as she took his weapon in hand. “Um, yeah, we’ll need to fix this a bit.”

He was a good shot, once he got the basic understanding of how the recurve worked. He didn’t quite match her skill but his coordination was above average and he was even able to hit some of the moving targets after a few tries. He insisted on keeping a tally of shots. Of course, she was winning by a few dozen points.

He let his last arrow go and it went wide, missing the stationary target by at least a foot. She tried to stifle her laugher, but after hours of training with him, she’d loosened up, become more comfortable, relaxed.

“You laughing at me?” He turned on her, his brow furrowed, a smile tugging his lips.

She lifted her hand to her mouth, tried to stop herself. “I can’t help it. That shot was terrible.”

His smile broke across his face. “Yeah, that one was pretty pathetic.”

“You did very well, though. I would almost think you’d had some training before today.”

He shrugged. “Nah. Just fooled around when I was a kid. No formal training.”

Aubrey nodded, amazed by that idea. To fool around with a weapon was so unlike her experience growing up. All she’d known was training with weapons, bows, knives, guns. Always training. She’d never actually used her bow for entertainment like she had tonight. Playing games, competing for fun. And yes, she’d had fun. Being with Jaylon had been easy. She’d enjoyed it, wanted to do it again. Dangerous, dangerous thinking.

“Well, it’s getting late. I should probably get to bed. Got some prepping to do before the team arrives for you all to meet,” Aubrey said, more than a little reluctantly.

Jaylon nodded. “Sure, sure, but just one more round, okay?”

Aubrey smiled. “What? I’m not kicking your ass enough?” She giggled.

“All or nothing. One more shot.”

Aubrey shrugged. “Okay.”

He walked over to a tree and tugged a rope she hadn’t noticed before. A small target, the size of a hand, swung down like a pendulum—fast moving, almost a blur. Her instincts perked up, the challenge of hitting the target something that incited her competitive nature.

“You’re never going to hit that.”

Jaylon cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Ye of little faith.”

Aubrey laughed. “That’s going to be hard for
me
to hit.”

“I propose a bet.” Jaylon lifted his bow, motioned for her to lift hers. “If you hit the target first, you win and I’ll leave you alone after tonight.”

Aubrey’s smile faded.

“If I hit the target first, I get another night with you. A whole night. And you have to do whatever I want.”

“A whole night? Whatever you want?”

Jaylon nodded.

Aubrey gulped. Her thoughts whirred but she didn’t give herself more than a second to decide. “I accept.”

He motioned for her to raise her bow and he lifted his.

“On the count of three. One, two…three.”

They both let loose at the same time. The thunk of the arrow hitting true resonated within her body, sending a shiver down her spine.

Jaylon jogged to the target, one hand raised to catch it mid-swing. He stopped its movement, angled it so she could see the arrow embedded. Blue feathers. He plucked it free from the target, sauntered back to her, twirling it between his fingers, cocky assurance on his face. “I won.”