The Wolf's Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(23)

"Are you a good hunter?"

"The best."

"Hmm." Hunter stood behind her, his hands on her creamy shoulders, then with slow movements, he slid his hands down roaming her chest. "I highly doubt that, my sweet."

She froze under his touch, and then the witch actually relaxed and leaned her head against his arm. "That feels good."

I know. Believe me, I know. He dipped his hands further into the top of her dress and tugged it down.

"Is your plan to seduce me?" Gwen asked. Hunter was so distracted by her creamy white skin he almost didn't hear her question.

"But of course. Love always comes before war, does it not?" He kissed the top of her head. "And I plan on loving you several times before the evening is done."

"And then?"

"I kill you."

"Oh." Gwen shrugged. "At least I'll be loved before I die."

Frustrated that she wasn't responding, Hunter growled and kicked the bottom of the chair, making it skitter closer to the fire.

She smiled. "A pitiful kick. Are Frenchmen not stronger than that?"

Hunter hated himself in that moment. Hated that he was doing this to her, but it was a means to an end. Cursing, he kissed her and bit her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. Immediately regretting the action, he jerked back.

"More animal than man, it seems," Gwen noted as her tongue reached out to lick the blood from her bottom lip.

"You have no idea." Hunter swore. Angry at himself that he was aroused the whole time he was causing her emotional distress, but it wasn't what he was doing, it was her cool indifference, her reactions to what he was doing, that made his blood boil with lust. Blast, but she was strong.





****





Terror did not even begin to describe what Gwen was feeling. She'd never been tortured, or captured for that matter. Oh, men had put their hands on her, thinking her nothing but a French whore, for that had been one of her many identities, though she hadn't shared that little piece of information with anyone. It wasn't as if she had slept with any man, but it had been a close call. But her current predicament was spiraling out of control. If she escaped, it would not be without losing something important to her. The only thing she had left of any worth. Her virginity.

But something about the man's kiss was familiar. Enough to make her hate herself for enjoying the pleasure of his lips upon hers. Obviously, she was losing her mind and going just as mad as Hunter, for even though she had a blindfold across her face, she almost thought it was he and not some mad Frenchman.

The man paced in front of her, cursing in French.

"Well," Gwen sighed. "Get on with it then."

"With pleasure." He straddled her lap and kissed her firmly across the mouth. His kiss was her end. It had to be. For no man had ever kissed her in such a way, with such raw passion, such desire. His tongue pushed into her mouth, forceful and aggressive. He tasted so sweet. His warm hands cupped her cheeks and then moved lower down her shoulders. Every single caress was like a fire being lit inside her. But, to be fair, she was also dangerously close to the flames. She could feel the heat licking at her slippers. The passion mixed with heat was a painful yet arousing situation.

The man moaned into her mouth. She briefly contemplated kicking him but it would do nothing except arouse him more, considering he was straddling her. Perhaps this was his torture, and what a magnificent torture it was.

Gwen's lips parted, and a small cry escaped them as her head fell back. "More," she said. "Give me more." Although it was no pretense, she hoped that he would at least untie her hands so that she could wrap them around his neck, and in that moment she would escape. She would flee, even if his kiss was the very devil.

"First, tell me what I want to know." A large smooth hand reached underneath her skirts, trailing up her calf to the ties of her satin stockings.

"What would you like to know?" She swallowed the bile in her throat. Was he going to rape her?

"Who do you work for?"

"Myself." She grinned, though she became more ill by the minute.

"And the French?"

"Are no longer a threat," she answered boldly. Why would he ask about his own people?

"Oh?"





****





Gwen nodded and squirmed beneath him, making it absolute torture to be in that position and do nothing about it. "I'm loyal to my country."

Hunter leaned forward and kissed her again. "Even in the midst of absolute torture, you would still stay loyal to your country?"

"Yes."

"So we skip to the main course." Hunter pulled away from her lap and went to the table to grab his knife. He also needed time to cool his arousal.

"I thought we were going to make love first."

"I changed my mind," he snapped. "I have no use for you."

Gwen said nothing.

He came up behind her, holding the knife to her delicate throat, his hands shaking as he did so.

"One more chance, my sweet. Tell me who you work for. Betray your country. Just one tiny little piece of information. Anything I can put to good use. Perhaps who is decoding the ciphers? Say the word and I'll set you free."