Phoenix Reborn (Woodland Creek)(31)

She smiled. “So f*ck me, Hawke. Claim me now.”

He kept his eyes on her as he drove into her, faster, harder, her hands on his hips, pulling him into herself each time he thrust. It was the most beautiful sort of agony, this. He was so thick, so big. Her body and his were the epicentre of the most exquisite pleasure on the planet.

“Ashling,” he moaned, his voice strained with pleasure. “If we keep this up I’ll come inside you.”

“Good,” she said. “I want you to.”

He leaned down, the muscles on his arms in beautiful, roped forms around her shoulders as he kissed her. And then she felt the surge of heat inside her as he came, his tongue stroking hers, his body expending every ounce of energy to show her what she’d done to him, how she’d destroyed him.

And finally she pulled him down, settling his hot form on top of hers, his chest against her breasts.

“You are my dream girl,” he whispered as he lay on top of her. “And yet this reality is better than any dream I’ve ever had.”

Ashling held him, her arms firmly wrapped about him as she smiled. This was perfection.

This was love.





14





“That night — the night that I set Jeremy on fire,” said Ashling, her naked body pressed to his under the cool night breeze. “I was sure that you hated me.”

“Hate you? I could never have hated you.”

“But why did you run away?”

Hawke pulled away for a moment to look into her eyes. “Because I knew then that you were like me. And I knew that I couldn’t ever tell you what I was. Not if I wanted this life of mine. But Ashling, I’m ashamed of what I did. I ran away like a stupid coward, left you suffering alone. I let you hurt instead of risking being found out. I was a stupid, foolish boy.”

“It’s all right, Hawke,” she said, burying her face in his shoulder.

“It’s not,” he replied. “And if you let me I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Please don’t tell me that we just made love because you felt guilty.”

Hawke laughed. “We — at least I — made love with you because I would have exploded if I hadn’t. I needed you. I still need you. I will always need you. You don’t know, but I’ll show you. Over and over again, if you’ll have me.”

“I’ve never been able to admit that I need anyone,” she said. “Never.” She kissed his chest. “But to need you feels so good right now.”

“Good. Keep needing me. Because I don’t intend to leave you, ever again.”

They lay holding one another in silence for a few minutes before either spoke.

“Why didn’t he pursue us?” Ashling asked. “The Vulture, I mean. Why didn’t he fly after us?”

“I think he’s injured,” said Hawke. “Maybe when I attacked him, I wrenched something in his arm.”

“He’s the Vulture we saw flying the other day, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He is.”

“Why does he want me dead, Hawke?” Ashling asked, her voice trembling. In this moment of joy, it was the one thing that weighed on her. As long as that man existed she’d never have peace, not in Woodland Creek or anywhere. “I’ve always been an outsider, never accepted. And now it’s as though it’s gotten even worse: I’m not even considered worthy of life.”

Hawke kissed her forehead. “You’re worthy of everything,” he said. “And if anyone — or anything — tries to harm you again, I’ll kill him myself. As for why he wants you dead, I don’t know. Fear is usually the cause of any conflict. Fear of your power, fear of his lack of it. It’s the same reason that no country wants another to possess nuclear weapons; we don’t want them to have greater strength than ours.”

Hawke had taken on a new dimension, one that reminded Ashling of Ranach. He spoke as though he were older than his years, more experienced and wise. Perhaps it was the Eagle inside him that gave him the sort of confidence, the self-assurance of a man who knew whereof he spoke.

He continued. “Shifters are powerful creatures, Ashling. They don’t like to know that someone else is stronger.”

“But where did he come from? I’ve lived here all my life, and I don’t even recognize him.”

Hawke seemed to ponder the statement for a little before replying. “Interesting,” he said. “If what you say is true, then maybe he’s come to Woodland Creek to hunt you. He was looking for you.”

“Well, he should get the hell out,” said Ashling, laughing at the simplicity of the statement. If only the Vulture shifter would do so, her life would become far simpler. Perfect, even.

“Yes. Or we should get the hell out. Or both.”

“What do you mean?”

He sat up and looked at her. “You could come with me,” he said. “To New York.”

“I can’t, Hawke. For so many reasons. But the first of which is that a psycho like that would put you in danger, too. I can’t have that. I can’t risk your life, your career.”

“I can,” he said. “And I would.”

“Well, I can’t. And I won’t. I’m serious. I…adore you. So I’m not willing to see you hurt.”