14. Caught You #2
Her breath hitches, a quiet sound that tells me I’m not the only one affected by this. That thing within me rejoices, urging me to get even closer.
“Hunter,” Wren breathes.
“Little bird.” Her pulse flutters beneath my thumb, tiny wings taking flight and mimicking the racing of my heart. “It seems like you have me trapped.”
“That does seem to be the case, doesn’t it?” Her eyes slip to my lips, then rise once more. The air thickens, every inch dividing us feeling like an entire kingdom.
“What are you going to do with me?”
Wren inhales shakily. “I don’t know. This was as far as I got.”
“You have no thoughts?” I raise a brow. “Somehow, I don’t believe that.”
I’ve been around long enough to realize she always has an idea or two brewing.
Her pulse quickens beneath my thumb, and thank the fucking suns, she moves closer.
My cock hardens as her breasts brush against my chest, her scent filling my nose.
My senses are consumed by her, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Gods above, I never knew it was possible to want someone so desperately.
I would sooner throw myself into a lake of fire than step away.
I trail my thumb across her wrist, then up her arm. I move slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants to, but I hope she doesn’t.
A storm has been building between us for weeks. How could it not, when we’ve been riding the same horse all night and sleeping near each other every day? Tension has been simmering beneath the surface of every interaction, every stolen glance, every hitched breath.
Now, it’s a cresting wave, ready to crash upon the shore.
Wren’s eyes darken. The blade at my neck trembles. She moves closer, her breath warming my mouth, and her Mark—that gods-damned swirl that started everything between us, the one that makes everything so frustratingly difficult—is a blazing sapphire against the evening sky.
“There is one thing I’d like to do with you,” she whispers.
“Oh?” My heart is a galloping horse, and I brush the tip of my thumb across her jaw. “What is it?”
The dagger slides down my neck, but it remains between us as Wren’s tongue wets her lips. Gods, that mouth. I can easily picture my little bird on her knees, lips stretched around my cock. My fingers would tangle in her hair, holding her to me as I fuck her mouth.
She smirks, as if she knows where my mind has gone.
“I’ve been thinking about our kiss,” she says after a moment.
The admission is a fan, and the flame within me burns even hotter.
“So have I,” I admit huskily, my hand falling away from her face.
Every suns-damned day, I think about it. The way she felt. Her taste. The heat that had coursed through me. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve pictured the two of us, naked and stretched out together, fulfilling every carnal need.
Exploring every part of Wren with my hands. My mouth. Sinking into her warmth. Hearing her scream my name, watching as she lets go of everything and becomes mine.
Fuck, I want that more than anything. My dick pulses at the thought, and I’m so hard, it’s almost painful. I want to adjust myself, but I don’t for fear of ruining this moment.
Wren peers up at me through fluttering lashes. “I’m still not sure if I forgive you for hunting me,” she warns.
“I know.” There’s a chance she never will, and I won’t hold that against her.
“But I think . . . I think I want to,” she confesses in a hushed whisper. “I want to leave the past where it belongs.”
Hope, which I hadn’t allowed to grow within me, sparks to life. Tiny embers glow in the center of my chest, and my breath leaves me on a ragged exhale. “Oh, little bird. I want that more than anything.”
A long, never-ending moment passes. Silence swells between us. Even the forest seems to hold its breath, waiting for her response.
Then her mouth crashes into mine.
This kiss is not gentle. It is not soft or sweet or brief. It is urgent and intense and a storm—our storm—in all its glory. It’s power and want and need, woven into one.
Wren moans, her lips moving feverishly against mine. I kiss her back, matching her fervor.
Our kiss deepens, her hand leaving my neck to clutch my tunic and tug me closer. I groan against her, losing myself in this moment.
This is more than a simple embrace, more than a meeting of our mouths. Gods fucking above. This is everything. With each passing moment, that connection between us grows stronger. More stable. I can almost feel the pull inside me.
Wren’s kisses are eager as she tastes me. Her tongue traces my lips, and I swear I can sense her desire for me warring with her struggle of who I am to her.
I am careful as I kiss her, desperate not to ruin the delicate trust growing between us. It’s a fresh flower blooming in early spring, and I’m far too aware one wrong move could destroy it forever.
I’d rather rip out my own heart.
My tongue sweeps across the seam of Wren’s lips, and she parts them for me with a moan that reverberates through me.
She’s soft and sweet and everything I’ve ever needed, and at the first taste of her, my knees threaten to buckle.
I dig my fingers into the bark behind me, forcing myself to let her remain in control.
I pour all of me into this kiss, unspoken words passing between us.
I want you desperately.
I’ll wait for your forgiveness.
You’re meant to be mine.
Even though we haven’t talked about the last part, I know it’s true. I lose track of time as we kiss. We are nothing but a tangle of lips and tongues and teeth, and our problems have no place here.
Eventually, even with Wren’s dagger between us, I cannot keep my hands to myself.
“Can I touch you, Birdie?” I murmur against her lips.
I need to feel her, to know that this is real and not another dream. She draws back, eyes searching mine before she nods.
“Thank fuck.” Claiming her lips once more, because being apart from Wren feels like the worst kind of torture, I brush the underside of her breasts with my right hand. She shivers, pressing herself against me.
“More, Gabe,” she moans against my mouth.
Blazing suns, I’ve never heard a better request.
Merging our mouths once more, I slide my hand under her tunic and tug her breast binding aside.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” I groan against her mouth, delighting in how her breasts fit so well in my palms. “So gorgeous.”
She grinds her hips against me, and fuck, I almost come in my pants. My fingers graze her nipples, her whimpers encouraging me to continue. When I pluck at those tight buds, she moans.
I swallow the sounds, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer. It’s not enough. It won’t be until I can take her properly, lavish her with the attention she deserves, but this isn’t the place.
I’m not sure how much time passes, our kisses growing more feverish, before the air shifts. It happens in a heartbeat. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and the temperature drops swiftly. Chaos whinnies, and there’s a stirring in my chest.
A tug of warning, a call to pay attention.
Even though it pains me, I pull away. Letting Wren’s tunic fall back into place, I look her over. Her eyes are hooded, her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are plump and well kissed.
“Gabe? What’s wrong?” she asks as she tugs her breast binding back into place.
My chest heaves as I scan the clearing. Our pack is sitting nearby, untouched. Snow is falling slowly, and the forest looks the same. But I know something has changed.
“Be on your guard,” I tell her, easing away from the tree and dropping my hand to the hilt of my sword. “Something’s wrong and I need you to—”
I never finish my sentence.
There’s a rustling behind me. An inhale.
I spin around, drawing my sword. Before I can raise the weapon, something heavy slams into the side of my head. Black spots dance in my vision.
Wren screams, the sound eerily similar to my nightmares, and my knees buckle.
“Run!” I shout, fighting against the blackness. “Go, Wren! Run as fast—”
My head is hit again. The last thing I see is a bright blue flare before darkness consumes me.