Hunted: A fae fantasy romance (Fae Magic Book 1) Read online

  “I didn’t want to leave you all alone here your first day.”

  “Well, you could have taken a little longer. I swear you just left.”

  Her breasts rose up and down with each agitated pant, their curves swelling high under the clinging wet material. He leaned in, ran a finger under the edge of the towel and along the moist contours of her cleavage.

  Her pupils grew large and dark.

  She sucked in a sharp breath and took two steps away. “Back off, buster. Even the help is entitled to privacy. Go outside and I’ll finish up in here.”

  There was no doubt in his mind—she wanted him. And if he gave her enough time, she would be changing her mind about sharing his bed. He wasn’t willing to wait. He wanted her now.

  “I could leave, but the view is much more enticing inside.” Logan snagged one of the kitchen chairs and straddled it backwards. “I think I’ll sit here, wait for you.”

  “Fine!”

  Leaving a trail of water on the wood floor, Trina crossed to the nailed-up rails that formed the ladder to the loft. Logan rested crossed arms on the chair back, leaned his chin on his arms, and enjoyed the view of Trina’s struggle to climb and still hold her towel. He let her get halfway up, where he had a nice view under her towel, before asking, “Don’t you want the clean clothes I brought you?” He dangled the string of the expanding bag on one finger. She whipped around. Her bare feet slipped, and she flailed for the rail, nearly losing her grip. The towel dropped.

  “Ooohh!” She jumped the three feet to the floor, retrieved the towel, and re-shielded her nudity. Shooting him the evil eye, she grabbed the bag of clothes. She was out of the cottage and outside so fast he wasn’t sure it had even happened.

  “You could say thank you.”

  His only answer was the slam of the shed door.

  Logan turned his chair to face the open door and waited, hoping his gifts improved the wench’s mood. His memory of sex the night before was intense.

  His fingers digging into her hips, her scent, her sighs. And his release. The fact that he’d had that type of pleasure and was hungry for more must be the result of his long drought.

  Trina came out of the shed and twirled in the grass, her wet, dark hair and full, white cotton skirt unfurling around her like a Spanish dancer. She was young, so much younger him, and he’d live even longer. Even the long-lived Traveller tribes were merely butterflies compared to his potential millennia. He was barely an adult. The lass would be dead long before he reached middle age.

  She laughed, a golden, poignant sound he’d love to bottle up forever.

  Butterfly that she was, he could only keep her so long in his jar or she’d become brittle and cold, a human stolen out of her time. And he’d be no better than any other thieving member of the dark court.

  Logan leaned on his folded arms and closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of his prize twirling in the sun, and savored the sting of his remorse.

  TRINA REVELED IN THE clean clothes, clean hair, and underneath it all, clean underwear. The new dress was a too-thin white cotton, with a knee-length skirt that flared with each luxurious spin. She never thought she’d be so happy to see her skin through fabric, but after two days sweating, fighting, and riding a horse, she was grateful for anything that smelled of fresh laundry.

  She snuck a peek at the dark open doorway of the cottage. Two days down and three hundred sixty some to go...without tasting him again.

  Not having sex was the right decision. It respected her integrity, her tribe, and her mission. She would stick to it if she had to repeat all of this out loud, every day, of every morning, of the entire year.

  Back ramrod straight, she headed into the cottage. Logan still sat on a kitchen chair turned the wrong way, resting his arms on the back. He whistled an appreciative wolf call, but his eyes retained an unusual pensive expression.

  “It’s a good fit.”

  She shifted uncomfortably under his close scrutiny. “Do you think so?” She touched the skirt, not sure why she cared.

  “You ran out of here so fast, I didn’t give you the shoes.” A pair of leather ballet flats dangled from his long fingers. Worn, soft, and brown, they were well made and well used, but still in great shape.

  She tried them on. “Perfect. Thank you.” She wiggled her toes in the butter soft leather. “Should I even ask what happened to the original owner?”

  “You can ask, but you can’t ask me. They came from the attic, just like the dress and everything else. If I were you, I’d simply be grateful and say ‘thank you’ to my uncles when you see them next.” His pensive look returned. “Our kind are mostly benevolent, but gifts are a funny thing with the fae. Sometimes when you question too much, they end up turning around and biting back.”

  His eyes dropped to her lips and the space between them seemed to shrink. Trina’s breath hitched.

  Her tongue flicked out in a fast, reflexive pass. His nostrils flared. A small tremor vibrated deep inside her. Awareness of his predatory nature rushed through her veins.

  Too late, she tried to move.

  He reached for her, pulling her in close. “What the hell have you done to me, woman?”

  The wooden chair back pressed against her stomach. “What are you doing?” She kept her voice quiet. She didn’t want to challenge him and risk waking the beast that lurked in his strange eyes. “We agreed, no more sex.”

  “One kiss,” he murmured, his expression dark and hooded. He held still, waiting for her. When he spoke, a warm breath passed between his lips to hers. “One kiss won’t hurt.”

  Her lips parted. Her muscles loosened, growing warm and ready. She knew she shouldn’t, but she leaned in anyway.

  One kiss wouldn’t hurt. Shouldn’t hurt.

  Their lips brushed, barely touching. The pressuring need for more built inside her. She pushed closer, silencing the tiny voice whispering “stop” in the back of her head. His hands closed in light restraint on her upper arms, his thumbs stroking her skin.

  She could still pull back. If she wanted to.

  She opened her eyes. His eyes were right there, looking deep into her soul as the touch of his lips feathered hers. The tension in his body, the way he held her arms, the dark, dangerous heat in his eyes told her, he was near the breaking point. She started to give in, then reason flooded back.

  She lurched away. And he let go.

  Loss coursed through her and she started to shake. The loss of his lips and the loss of him. The loss of a piece of herself, tiny, small, and gone. She backed into the door frame and hit her head.

  Bold, white lines formed on his knuckles as he held onto the chair back like a lifeline. He rested his forehead on the wood, his breathing rough and ragged. “Why don’t you step out onto the front porch Trina, and give me a moment.”

  She hesitated.

  His brogue deepened. “If you don’t go, lass, I’ll assume you’ve changed your mind.”

  Heart hammering, she fled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Logan perched on the porch railing and tried to remember what he’d been saying. He’d recovered his restraint and he and Trina were discussing their plans—she sitting in the sun on the bottom step, working a comb through tangled, wet hair. While he tried not to get distracted by the flashes of her cleavage and reminded himself of all the reasons why he should stay controlled.

  She lifted her arms high and the white cotton of her damp dress pulled and stretched, the thin material molding to the shape of her soft stomach, slim waist, and every detail of her lacey bra. All his resolve fled.

  He leaned on the post behind him and imagined touching the tiny swirling details, his tongue tracing the rough lines of leaves and vines across the full sides of her breasts and over the hard pearled nipples, until he reached the soft skin of her breasts swelling above the wet cotton.

  Damn.

  He was hard again, and he needed to stay away from her to win her trust. His plan would work, was working, he just needed to
hold out a little longer and she would be the one begging to climb into his bed.

  If he could hold out... The sun-heated smell of lavender rose from her skin, and a physical memory of her rising naked in the water wafted on the breeze. He shifted on the wooden railing, trying to make his hardened dick comfortable.

  “You stopped talking.” Trina looked up at him, her face completely innocent of the spell she was spinning.

  “Yesterday was the first night of the Traveler’s meet. There are six nights left. I’ll go tonight, and if needed, I can go again. My uncles have pledged to keep you safe whilst I’m gone.”

  Her outraged hiss dragged his attention away from her breasts and up to meet the furious green of her cat’s eyes. Frowning, he tried to figure out what he’d just said, or how it could possibly have made her angry.

  She stood up, the sunlight shining through the white dress and outlining her luscious legs. “There’s no way you’re going without me.” The comb clattered to the top step.

  “You need me.”

  He swallowed. How was he supposed to listen to when all he could think about was fisting his hand in the fragile fabric of the front of her dress and tearing it down the middle so he could see her skin, caress the bell of her hips, and dip his tongue into the dent of her belly?

  “These are my people. I have a better chance of finding out what we need to know than you do. You can’t hide being fae among the talented of the tribes. They’ll sniff you out from a hundred yards away.”

  “I hadn’t planned to hide. If there are any of the queen’s spies, they’ll expect me to try to find the rest of your family. What better place would there be to find a witch than at the Traveller’s meet?”

  “Is that what this is? Are you trying to track my family down?” Trina’s voice tightened. Frightened, angry, or betrayed, he couldn’t be sure. What was clear were the tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.

  He jumped off the railing and crossed to her side, his need to touch and soothe pushing all his plans of abstinence out the window. She whirled away, dark, wet hair flying out in a circle and slapping him in the face.

  His anger volcanoed up, but he pushed the rise down and kept his words level. “Trina. I promise you. I’m not trying to hunt down your family. If I wanted to, it would have been easy for me to do it while your house was still standing. Trust me, the hounds of the Wild Hunt can sniff out any prey I choose.”

  His muscles tensed for action, but he hesitated, letting her appreciate his forbearance. She was sure to know stories of the ferociousness of the hounds of the Hunt, and while they appeared to be lazing around the clearing like regular dogs, they were far from ordinary. His command of them was more restrained than previous masters. It was better she not know of their true darkness. Or his.

  “Why hasn’t the queen loosed you on us before?” Her body tensed for flight, but she still stood within his easy reach, quivering with anger. “Why not use your hounds and track down all of the MacElvy’s, one by one?”

  Hot fury flashed through him at her supposition that he was the queen’s to use.

  “The queen and I do not agree on my role in her court.” The words pushed through his teeth. He unclenched his hands, forcing himself to relax into a semblance of control. A cloud floated across the sun. What was wrong? Where was his discipline?

  Logan exhaled and rubbed his tense forehead. He wasn’t ready to reveal to her all the sources of his anger with the queen.

  “The hounds haven’t always been mine. The mantle of Huntsman fell on me when the previous one died. Since then, Her Majesty and I have disagreed as to what the title means.” He took a second, deep breath. “I’ve never been in her favor, but I’m an asset she refuses to relinquish. She only took the risk of releasing me now because her other methods have failed.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  He couldn’t help but admire her pluck. She was afraid of him, but she refused to back down. “Why am I helping you?”

  All the selfish reasons and justifications he’d had for taking her prisoner ran through his mind, but one-by-one, over the last two days, they had fallen away. Only one reason stood out now, staggering in its simplicity.

  “You need me.”

  They stood separated by a few feet, but at the complete truth in his statement her energy flared out and touched his, just as if she stood in the circle of his arms. Anger ebbed from her face. He crossed to her and slid his hands up her slender neck, his thumbs resting on her collar bones. She curved towards him, her hips bumping into his. Their mouths met and his need rose, raw and hungry and ready for her to yield.

  He worked his hand down her damp skin, over her bodice and the swell of her breast. Her nipple beaded under his palm. He squeezed lightly, then tighter when Trina moaned and pushed closer. She gripped his ass, his throbbing erection pressed between them.

  “Whoa, lass.” He pulled away. “I’m on the edge of throwing you down and fucking you raw, and you and I both deserve more than that this time around.”

  Her hands relaxed, sliding and stroking up and down his hips and he was able to breathe.

  He traced along the tempting curves of lace he’d imagined under her dress. Following his fingers with his mouth, he tongued her nipples through the wet cotton and she arched, moaned, and yielded.

  Trina fumbled at the row of tiny buttons running up the front of the dress.

  “No.” He took two handfuls of the cotton, just over the rise of her breasts, and gripped them hard, his knuckles pressing into her flesh.

  “What...”

  “Hush.” He yanked hard and buttons flew through the air, exposing her bra, her skin, and the innocent, white panties he’d chosen for her just that morning.

  Logan pulled off the dress, skimming her back and arms and tossing the rent fabric to lie in the grass with the lost buttons. He stripped off his own clothes, unable to take his eyes off of her as she tugged the bra down and her breasts fell out like ripe fruit. He groaned, and her already tight nipples furled even tighter. He teased the peaks with his mouth, lightly licking and blowing on the tips, growing harder with every pleased mewl in her throat.

  She pulled on his shoulders, trying to take him down to the grass with her.

  “Wait, lass, slow down. I want to look at you.”

  Heat flushed her skin, all the way to her pink nipples rising and falling with every quick nervous pant. The light breeze cooled the surface heat of his skin, but inside, he boiled for Trina, a human—impossibly young, gorgeous...and frail.

  An unfamiliar emotion rose under his lust. Was it? Could it be, loss? For her?

  Uncomfortable, he pushed it away, down deep in the dark, closeted somewhere unwanted and unidentifiable with anything else he didn’t want to feel. Instead, he took his time savoring the moment, following her curves from the dark, wet hair clinging to her shoulders to her damp, full breasts, all the way down to the lickable dent of her navel.

  She had a slim, strong waist and a soft, slight belly. He reached out, stroking down the slope, following the path dipping between her thighs. Toying with her dark curls, he raised his eyes to her face as she shifted and flushed.

  “Please.” The word was hot and breathy.

  “Please what?”

  “Please suck my nipples like you did last night.”

  He growled, “Is that all you want?” His fingers slid between her curls and along the outside of her folds.

  She panted. “No, I want more.”

  “Tell me.” He pushed deep into her warm, wet center, and she tumbled to the grass, her legs falling wide to receive him.

  “I want you to touch me, lick me, here, now.”

  His cock jumped and his lust rose, deep, hungry and intense, as if he hadn’t been satisfied at all the night before. He shook his head, bemused by the pleasure of simply looking at her, his woman lying naked in the sun, waiting for him. Her beauty caught in his throat.

  She made a sound and he fell to his knees between her t
highs, using his fingers to spread her even wider, and locking onto her clit with his mouth.

  “Yesss.” She hissed out.

  His hands gripped her ass and he angled her up so he could whorl his tongue in and out. His eyes closed in the ecstasy of licking her while he fucked her with his fingers. Deep and deeper, her hips writhing as her mewls became moans, then screams.

  Energy swirled around him. Logan opened his eyes and opened his Gift and saw the colors of her aura flowing in and around them with each wave of pleasure. He found her breast, pinching her nipple with his fingers.

  He sensed something on the edge of his Gift. The rich, brown mist of magical current crept into her aura as she drew power from the earth. He watched in awe as, with each wave of pleasure, a rising beat of magical energy built inside her, power flowing from the ground, pulsing into her and through her as he rubbed.

  She came, her center clenching tight around his fingers, and the power in the earth rose up, calling to him. Trina grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up her body until he was looking her in the face. Supported on his elbows he covered her, kissing her, sharing the flavor of her essence. Power surged from her mouth into his, rocking him deep inside.

  He lost control.

  She eagerly opened up and received him as he pushed his cock inside her. Energy built inside him with every tight thrust, power swirling around them, through them, and back into the node, pulsing longer and larger as they moved together. She felt right—more than right.

  He gazed into her eyes, magic oscillating through him. He came, crying out, pouring everything into her and then getting it right back as she screamed another orgasm. Bolts of power passed through him, into her, and back into the earth, a flaring, blinding light accompanied by a loud, thunderous boom.

  They lay unmoving in the grass and waited for the aftershocks to subside.

  He’d been with powerful fae, nymphs, even a mermaid once. But never had he experienced anything like this. “What the hell was that?”

  “We woke the earth.” Her voice was quiet, lethargic with post-coital exhaustion. “We must have accidentally tapped into the energy node.”