Prey for Me

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jay

Caleb insisted we gather food for the pack first. He couldn’t take one moment to celebrate his birthday. He had to be Prince Alpha and put us to work. I don’t know why I thought he was going to lose a little.

I respect him for it—Caleb is truly committed to his pack. Being put to work, I’m seeing how much effort is required to gather as much food as they have.

Ew. Did I just say I respect Caleb? Ugh, what is going on with me lately?

It isn’t until we’ve gathered a sufficient supply that Caleb is ready to put work aside and have fun. So, he orders Tyler and a few other guys to run the food back to the pack. Tyler will return later, but for now, Caleb and I are alone. Which I don’t mind.

Standing on a fallen tree trunk, Caleb holds the bow and arrow out to me. “Do you want to try?”

“Me? Oh, no. I couldn’t—” I wave in protest. “I mean, I wouldn’t even know how,” I laugh nervously.

Since when did I get so flustered around him?

He waves me over. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

“I don’t know . . . What if I hit something? Or worse.”

He chuckles. “I promise you won’t hit anything other than your target. Can you trust me?”

My eyes drop to my fidgeting hands, trying to decide my next move, feeling caged by the word.

Trusting anyone is a gamble and something tells me that taking a chance on my enemy with a weapon is a losing bet.

He’s only referring to archery, but to me, his question feels heavier than that.

He’s asking me to take a leap of faith—something I don’t do.

I’m waiting for signs of a panic attack, but none come. No sweats, chest pains, nothing. Someone who is considered my Master wants to hand me a weapon to shoot at something. Shouldn’t my wolf be triggered by this?

“Jay?” he asks.

“I’m thinking.”

Taken aback by my response, he lowers the bow and rests it in front of him. “Okay, but what is there to think about? I would’ve thought you’d jump at the opportunity to take a weapon from me,” he jokes. “Up to you, though.”

Before all of these confusing feelings, he’s right.

I would have thought he’d be yelling at me by now to follow his orders, so he could weaponize me without question.

At least, that’s what my previous masters have done.

But I don’t detect impatience, pressure or disappointment.

He’s giving me a choice—a real choice, not just the illusion of one.

He isn’t them, my wolf assures.

I bite the inside of my cheek and consider her words. Is she right? He’s kidnapped me, imprisoned me, humiliated me, threatened me in more ways than one and has me calling him Master.

But this feels different. With my prior captors, I wasn’t safe. With him, I’m not so sure. Maybe what I need is reassurance.

A lick of courage finds me, and I speak my fear aloud, asking, “Are you going to make me kill something?”

“Only trees, promise.” He crosses his heart.

I take a deep breath and exhale, nodding. “Okay.”

I join him in the brush. When I make it to the fallen tree, Caleb extends his hand to me. I take it, and he helps me onto the large trunk with him. He moves behind me, sets the bow in my hand and reaches around to place the arrow, drawing my arm straight back.

“Okay . . .” He checks me over, gliding his hand down my arm, adjusting my position in a few places.

I suck in a breath at his touch and goose bumps pepper my skin.

“Biggest thing to remember is to keep your arm at shoulder height and keep your elbow turned away from the string . . .” He rotates my elbow. “There. Perfect.” He drags his hand back the underside of my arm, down my side and rests on my hips.

Pressed against him, I relish every contour, protruding pecs, chiseled abs, and the bulge against my back.

I swallow, recalling the image of his length.

“How’s that feel?”

“Uh, great. Yeah. It’s uh . . . sturdy.”

Sturdy? What the fuck? I cringe at myself. Why did I say that?

“Ready?”

My mouth is too dry to speak, and I clearly can’t have a normal conversation, so I nod.

“And . . . release.”

His breath hits my ear, breaking my focus. I turn my elbow the wrong way, strike something hard, and it cracks.

“AGHH!”

I spin to find Caleb holding his nose and bent over. My hand flies to my mouth in shock. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Did I hit you? Let me see!”

He backs away from me, holding a hand out.

Nice going, I think to myself. Now he probably assumes I’m a monster, and I did it on purpose.

“I think you might’ve broken my nose.” He pulls his hands away from his face, dabbing his nostril lightly and inspecting his finger to see if there’s any blood. Caleb panics. “Ah, fuck. Am I bleeding?” He lifts his head.

I squint, leaning in to get a closer look. There’s no blood, no signs it’s broken. It’s red, so he’ll have a good bruise, but that’s it. What he is, is dramatic.

“Uh . . .”

“What?” More panicking. “It’s broken, isn’t it? I knew it.”

“No, it’s not broken.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I think you’re going to live.” I giggle but immediately cover my mouth.

To my surprise, his sense of humor shines through, and he laughs halfheartedly. “Oh, you think this is funny?”

I can’t contain my laughter anymore.

“I try to show you how to shoot, and you elbow me in the face.”

I’m waving my hands in front of me, trying to speak between my laughter and deny that I find it funny when clearly, I do. I’m gasping for air. “I’m sorry, I-I can’t.”

Now he’s laughing. “It’s my fault for giving you a weapon.”

“Are you okay? Actually?” I ask through my laughter.

“You know if you wanted to fight me, you could’ve just asked. I would’ve taken you up on it,” he says.

“As if I need permission to kick your ass. I’d have you on your back in seconds.”

“Oh really? You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Care to find out?”

I can’t hurt him, my wolf says.

I don’t know what her deal is. Usually, I have trouble holding her back from a fight, but with Caleb, I can’t get her out.

We’re not hurting him. He asked us to fight.

I’m not doing it, she protests with her nose in the air.

Think of it as a reason to touch him and impress him at the same time with our skill . . .

That was all I needed to convince my wolf. She takes the first shot to lunge, but she narrowly misses him.

We get into a scuffle that only lasts for a few minutes until we’re ground fighting. We roll from a mossy patch to the base of a big tree.

Caleb ends up on top of me, pinning my wrists to the ground, thrilled and sporting a cocky, victory grin. Out of breath, he says, “You know . . . I think I prefer you on your back.”

“I wouldn’t get too excited,” I pant.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

In one swift motion, I plant my feet, buck my hips and arch into a bridge, twisting until I’m on top of him. I snatch the arrow and hold it across his neck. “That’s how you get killed.”

Our chests heave in the same rhythm. Aside from our synched breaths, silence hums between us. Everything else falls away.

He stares deep in my eyes with unbridled heat. They drift to my lips. A magnetic pull, burdened with tension, swells under our unwavering gaze.

“Fuck it.” In one swift motion, he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me down to him. His head tilts, and I enter his protective realm.

Caleb clouds my senses with the capturing of my lips.

I toss the arrow somewhere behind us and let myself sink deep into our kiss. Caleb’s scent, his tongue massaging mine, and his taste consume my mind.

He grips my hip, holds my head to him and assaults my mouth before rolling over me, blanketing me beneath him.

My legs spread around him, inviting him in.

Caleb accepts the invitation immediately.

His hardened package rubs up against just the right spot as our kiss deepens.

It’s like there’s an intrinsic desire boiling inside us, and we can’t chase it fast enough.

He has a need to touch and taste every inch of me and I, him.

His caress is the only one that could ease this fire inside me.

I grab him through his shorts, and he moans into my mouth before moving from my lips to my neck to focus on my touch.

His breathing labors, and his body slowly relaxes at the sensation.

Just before he can completely give himself to me, he catches a second wind and pins my wrists above my head with one hand.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He nips and tugs at my ear lobe with his teeth, as he gathers my shirt up freeing my breasts with his other hand.

He curls his fingers into my flesh, scratching my stomach as he kisses his way to my neck and palms at my breast.

“For the record, I still hate you,” I pant.

I’m not convincing in the slightest.

His movements are fast, and he’s everywhere but where I need him, causing my head to reel.

And I’ve lost all sense of where I once was, including where I stood in my hatred of him.

How could I find hatred in a man who takes his time with me?

He pauses what he’s doing and stares into my soul.

He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?” Eyes locked on me, he slides a hand beneath my panties and moves the fabric aside to feel how soaked I am.

I moan and spread my legs further apart at his touch, in invitation.

He whispers in my ear, “You don’t feel like you hate me.” He kisses the top of my breast and rubs tantalizing circles over my clit. “No . . . The only person you hate . . . is yourself. Because you like when I do this . . .” He stops, drags his finger to my pussy and slowly dips it inside me.

“And this . . .” He inserts another. “And since you like all of that . . . I can only imagine you’ll lose it with this . . .”

And there goes a third, pumping in and out of me at rhythmic speed. He has me stretched and filled to the brim.

I arch my back, and my mouth forms an O.

Caleb captures my mouth with his, effectively taking my breath away.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into me, so I can taste him deeper, using him as my life source.

Caleb moves to my neck and trails kisses to my exposed breasts. He sucks and swirls his lips over my nipple as he continues his divine torture, pumping in and out of me.

Then, he switches to the other nipple. Already hot and hard for him, he doesn’t show mercy. Gently, he latches onto the bud, grazing his teeth against it as he tugs.

His attention alone could send me over the edge, but watching him tend to me is overwhelmingly addictive.

I want more.

“Please . . .” I lift my hips to him.

He doesn’t relent at first, ignoring my cries. Several torturous whimpers later, he pulls down my shorts and panties, leaving me bare to the elements. He undoes the top of his shorts. Male evanescence spills over his boxers, and I ache to trace the v-lines of his hips and lose myself in his jungle.

Deciding I’m ready for him, he takes one of my hands and places it under his boxers as he rubs my clit and kisses my neck. “Feel how hard I am for you.”

Hard as a rock, my hand grips him. I stroke his shaft, feeling every vein and ridge as I tug.

He bites his lip and moans. “That’s it. Don’t stop that. Mmm, fuck. Do you know how bad I want you?” He groans and moves out of my grasp, reaching for the top of his shorts to slide them down. “Spread your legs wider for me,” he instructs.

Caleb pumps his cock at my entrance. He covers me with his delicious body heat and just as he’s about to stretch me open, he stops. “Ah, shit.” He rests his forehead on my shoulder in defeat.

I try to look down between us to see what’s going on. “What? Oh no, did you just—”

He lifts his head. “What? No!” He chuckles. “Tyler just told me he’s on his way. We have to get dressed before he returns.”

“Oh,” I say softly, embarrassed I had forgotten the world outside our bubble. As I try to rejoin the real world, I say, “Uh . . . yeah. Okay.”

We dress in silence, exchange glances and stare longer than normal, but I don’t know what to say. Normally, we’d be arguing.

I’m not sure how to act when we’re on the same page. I’m finger combing my hair when I touch something that is not hair.

Caleb jumps at my squeal. “What? What is it?”

“There’s something in my hair. Get it. Get it.” I shake my hands out in front of me.

Living in the wild, I can handle most bugs, but whatever that was felt huge.

Caleb rushes to my side. “Okay, I’ll get it. Calm down.” He sifts through my hair.

I only give him a second before I’m panicking again. All I can think is, what if he doesn’t find it? “Did you find it?”

“Hold still. Just relax. I’ll find it.” He fishes through my hair gently.

I’m trying my best to stand still, but my feet march in place, resisting the urge to run. He laughs at me as he sifts through more. “I can’t get it if you can’t stand still.”

“I know. I know. Sorry.” Since I can’t move, I settle for squealing to myself. “Whatever it was, it was huge.”

What feels like a lifetime later, Caleb stops and says, “Found it.”

“Oh my goddess, get it.” I flap my hands. “What is it? Is it a spider? Wait—no. I don’t want to know.”

His two fingers pinch whatever it is.

“If it’s a spider, don’t tell me. Just . . . lie to me and tell me it’s something else, but don’t let me see it. But also, don’t kill it either.”

I don’t need any more kills under my belt, I think to myself.

As I ramble, Caleb dips his chin, glancing at me and flashes me a crooked smile, then returns to his rescue mission. Whatever it is slides down the strands.

Once removed, Caleb stands back with a cheeky grin as he holds up not a bug but a fat twig.

My cheeks burn hot as relief washes over me, but embarrassment quickly replaces it. I face palm. “I thought it was a bug.”

He throws the twig to the ground. As stupid as I feel, he doesn’t shame me, embarrass me further or call my squealing annoying.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. Although, I’ve never heard you squeal like that. Seems like I need to step up my game.” He winks.

And now my cheeks are hot for an entirely different reason.

We don’t have a chance to talk about what just happened. Tyler comes into view seconds later. “Hey guys. What’d I miss?”

Internally, I groan.

So close.