Untamed. Crystal Jordan

Her palms cupped his ass and pulled at him to urge him on. Hunching his shoulders, he slammed his pelvis forward. The need to come fisted deep within him, and he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. He shifted his weight to one arm, slipping the other between them to stroke her hard little clitoris.

      “Hunter!” She cried out as orgasm took her, her pussy pulsing around his cock.

      He exploded, the sharp ecstasy in her voice as she screamed his name shoving him past his endurance. His come filled her, and he kept thrusting until his cock went soft, wanting nothing more than to lose himself inside her welcoming heat.

      It wasn’t until hours later, curled around Delilah in his wide bed, that he realized this was the first time in his life that he’d ignored his business. He wasn’t certain what it meant that his mate could wipe all thoughts of everything except her from his mind. He wasn’t certain he even wanted the answer.

      He doubted he would like it.

      3

      Hunter jolted from a nightmare, his heart pounding and sweat rolling down his chest. His muscles shook with adrenaline that had no outlet. He clenched his teeth until the horror faded, wiping a weary hand down his face. He’d had the nightmare so many times, he knew to the nanosecond how long it would take for his body to cool, for his pulse to stop racing. If only his memories were as easy to predict and contain. If only the nightmares were nothing more than a figment of his imagination, but they were not. The images of his parents’ last moments on earth were lasered into his mind, their power never fading. The feel of his uncle’s blood streaming through his fingers when he meted out his own form of justice for the abuse…and for the corruption that had cost his parents’ lives. The two incidents were separated by years, but always tangled in his dreams.

      He was only glad Delilah had slept through it. She was an intelligent woman, and she was bound to ask questions he didn’t intend to answer. Maybe it was better that he moved her to her own place after the week was over. A mistress didn’t need to live with him…or sleep through the night with him. The idea of having her whenever he wanted her and never having to admit to anything other than lust was so appealing it made his teeth clench. He could have everything he wanted, needed, craved. He could keep her forever.

      Glancing to his left, he saw the tangle of covers where her slim body should have been.

      But he was alone in his bed.

      Terror fisted in his gut. She was gone. Lost. Like his parents. He leaped to his feet, kicking aside the covers that threatened to trip him up. He had to find her, had to protect her. His mate.

      Whether she wanted him to or not. He couldn’t lose someone else. He simply…couldn’t.

      The wide vidscreen embedded in the wall across from his bed chirped to alert him of an incoming message. Delilah? Had she crept away and left him a message for when he woke? He knew little of her, but it didn’t seem like the feline’s style to leave anything behind.

      “Display message.” His voice was little more than a hoarse croak, and he worked his tongue around in his mouth in an effort to generate some moisture.

      Pierce’s serious face greeted him on the vidscreen. “Avery, it’s Vaughn. The Los Angeles incident looks like a deliberate attempt to recreate the circumstances surrounding your parents’ death. Tarek’s looking to rattle you. Don’t do anything rash.” Those gray eyes seemed to look right through him, much the way the man did in person. “More information when I talk to Forensics. Contact me when you get this.”

      “Huh.” He shook his head. One more reminder of the worst time of his life. But as much as the past haunted him, it was his future he was worried about.

      Where was Delilah?

      Whirling for the balcony doors, he was a nanosecond away from shifting to his hawk form to hunt her down when he caught sight of her in the moonlight. It turned her into a pale goddess, gleaming on her hair and skin. No one should have skin as flawless as hers with the acid rain and pollution in the city, but moonbeams kissed every perfect millimeter.

      She crouched on the balcony railing, her hand braced in front of her on the figure of a carved gargoyle. A breath rushed out of him as relief almost took him to his knees. Swallowing, he struggled for the calm that usually came so naturally to him. All he knew was that he could never let her leave him. Now that he’d had her, now that the hawk had had a taste of its mate, he had to protect her. The way he hadn’t been able to protect his parents all those years ago.

      “Leaving so soon?” He leaned against the open balcony door, arms crossed over his chest.

      Tilting her chin down, she shot him a dirty look over her shoulder. “I keep my bargains, Avery.”

      “Call me Hunter.” He frowned, annoyed now that his panic was receding. He’d been more terrified than he’d ever be willing to admit and she was perching on his balcony. “I don’t want you calling me Avery.”

      She snorted and stepped down onto the balcony floor. “Then don’t insult me.”

      A small sigh eased past his lips when her feet touched a solid setting. She wasn’t a bird; she couldn’t shift and fly to safety if she fell. He arched an eyebrow, forcing his body to relax. “It’s insulting to think a thief might be less than honest?”

      “If I make a bargain, I keep it.” She gave a disdainful sniff. “I make bargains with my clients, not the people I steal from.”

      That made him smile—something he’d never have guessed he could do so soon after the nightmare. “You did with me.”

      “I also don’t get caught.” Her nose wrinkled and she folded her arms, the picture of annoyed feline.

      He pushed himself away from the door, letting himself savor the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld. His nude mate framed by the night sky and the lights of New Chicago. Lovely. And cold. The chill wind swirled around him once he’d moved outside the buffer of the door. Not cold enough to make him walk away from her, though. His grin stretched wider. “I caught you.”

      “You’re an exceptional man.” But her tone was dry enough that no one could consider her words a compliment.

      He stepped close enough that he could feel the heat of her curves. “Who was your client for my ruby?”

      “I don’t always have clients.” She twitched her shoulders in what might have been a shrug, staring down at his rising cock. The heat he’d felt from the moment he touched her was always there, waiting for her to rouse it. “If an item is valuable enough on its own, I know I can move it if I steal it.”

      She didn’t need to tell him that the Avery ruby was more than valuable enough to fit that category. She licked her lips and he forgot about clients and rubies and anything other than the craving he had for her and the need to burn off the fear of finding her gone.

      Fear he’d never wanted to feel again. It was one thing to be plagued by a nightmare of events long past, another to be haunted by the reality of it every day because of his mate. He hated it, but the hawk inside him wouldn’t allow him to send her away—for once, the beast won the battle of wills with the man.

      He craved her too deeply.

      Cupping her biceps, he turned her to face the city lights. The smooth globes of her ass brushed against his cock and he had to fight to keep from dragging her to the floor and burying himself inside her. Instead, he bent her at the waist to place her fingers on the balcony’s railing, holding her there with his palms covering her hands. “I love this view.”

      “What do you think I was out here admiring before you woke up?” She shivered, arching her back to rub against him. His cock slipped into the cleft of her ass and further forward until her damp heat drenched the head of his dick.

      “Let’s enjoy it together then, shall we?” He spoke the words softly in her ear and saw goose bumps rise on her flesh. She tilted her head, baring her throat to him. The trust in that gesture from any natural predator