Obsession Untamed (Feral Warriors #2)(63)

As they pulled into the Market’s parking lot twenty minutes later, she was standing at the corner of the building, her head tipped against the wall in a stance that was perhaps a little sad, perhaps weary, as if she’d been waiting for him for hours. Her shapeless dress was a pretty blue, the same summer sky shade as her eyes.

“Get her out of your system, B.P. I’m tired of all the growling. Besides, my gut’s sure of this one. Hell if I know why, but you need to do this. She’s going to be good for you.”

Paenther climbed out of the Mustang and hesitated, a dozen reasons not to walk toward her bounding through his mind.

But then she straightened, and even across the parking lot he could sense the loneliness and longing in her eyes. A hunger less of the flesh than of the spirit. A need of the soul that spoke to something deep inside him, and he found himself unable to turn away.

The wind whipped, coating him with dust from the parking lot and flinging sharp, tiny raindrops against his cheeks and forehead. He barely noticed.

As he started toward her, her expression didn’t change. No smile greeted him this time. But with each step, the air around him heated. As did the blue of her eyes.

His pulse began to pound in his veins, the blood rushing, thick and warm, hardening him in an instant. Her remembered taste danced on his tongue, her scent springing from his pores as if it had been moments and not more than twenty-four hours since he kissed her.

Goddess, but he needed to get her out of his system. There was only one way he was going to do it.

As he closed the distance between them, she held out her hand to him, watching him with deep, smoldering eyes. Her warm hand trembled as he curled his own around it. As the wind twirled leaves in the gravel, she turned and tugged on his hand, and he followed. She led him behind the building and up the steep, heavily wooded hill behind the store.

Surrounded by the rich loamy scents of the woods, all he could smell was violets. Her. The scent wrapped around him, sinking deep into his skin, further inflaming the heat already building.

He gripped her hand tighter, part reaction to his body’s excitement, part possessiveness as they climbed together, far away from prying eyes.

He didn’t even know her name.

He ducked under a low branch, pushing aside another for her. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was sinking inside her and ridding himself of this obsession that had hounded him for two solid days.

She continued to try to lead him, but they were out of sight of the parking lot, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

He pulled her to a stop. She turned, her expression enigmatic as she slid into his arms. He covered her mouth with his, and passion exploded inside him. Desire roared through his body, making him heavy and ready. Her taste was even sweeter than he’d remembered, her scent exhilarating.

As he pressed her back against the nearest tree, he was vaguely aware of a pair of deer wandering close, watching them curiously.

She kissed him frantically, as if she feared they didn’t have much time. He kissed her back with the same intensity, desperate to taste her, to feel her, to know her in every way.

The feel of her hand on his zipper made his blood pound. The touch of her fingers along the length of his bare flesh nearly stopped his heart.

Gentleness and care be damned, he needed her now. Shoving his hand beneath her dress, he found her as bare and ready as she’d been the day before. Hot, wet, and whimpering with desire as his finger probed her depths.

Without pretense, he yanked up her dress to her waist then lifted her, positioning her sheath to his height. As she wrapped her bare thighs around his waist, he pushed inside her, filling her in a single, perfect thrust.

Heaven. Nothing in his entire life had ever felt more right. He thrust into her, over and over, pressing her against the tree at her back until she was gasping and moaning with pleasure. Within moments, her release broke over her with a cry, her inner muscles contracting hard around him, driving him over the edge.

“Look at me,” she cried on a husky groan.

As his seed pumped into her, his body and mind open as they only were during sexual release, he stared into her passion glazed eyes.

And froze.

“I’m sorry, warrior,” she said softly, her eyes no longer the simple sky blue of a human’s.

As darkness swallowed his vision from the outside in, he stared into blue eyes now rimmed in copper and knew his luck had followed his caution into oblivion.

For the second time in his life, he’d fallen into the trap of a Mage.

Chapter Twenty-four

“She’s alive.”

Tighe felt the Hummer’s upholstery at his back, but his mind was fully with Delaney as he watched her through the clone’s eyes. But even as he rejoiced in her survival, he wondered how long it would last.

He felt Wulfe’s big hand on his shoulder. “Any identifiers?”

“None. She’s in a kitchen, I think.” She was on her stomach on a polished wood floor lined with blue paint, in a room swarming with flies, a knee—the clone’s knee—firmly planted in her back. While Tighe was forced to watch, hands that looked like his own stripped the sweater and bra from the body of the woman Tighe would right now give his life to protect.

The bastard flipped her onto her back. Delaney’s eyes glittered with hatred, lanced through with pain. And fear.

Fury roared in Tighe’s ears, melding with the sound of the chaos as his fingers began to burn.