Page 13 of The Hunter's Mate

He kneels in front of me, his eyes sweeping from my breasts to my abdomen, then to the wound.

“Already healing nicely,” he says, his claws on my thigh. “You’ll be ready for our game tomorrow.”

“And what about now?”

“What about it?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine.

“If this is my last night of freedom, I want to do something fun,” I whisper.

I reach for his face—for his strong, sharp jaws—but Nyrik catches my wrist and drags the back of his talon up my arm. I shiver, my nipples hardening even in the warmth of the humid night, unable to clamp my legs together with Nyrik resting between them.

“I do not know if our biology is compatible,” he says.

“If you’ve got a tongue, we can make it work,” I say.

“You’re small and delicate…and I am not gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle,” I breathe.

“So you want me to bruise you?” he asks. “Bite and scratch? Is that what you like, Fawn?”

My breath catches in my throat. “I think you already know the answer to that question.”

His claws rake up the outside of my thigh and hook against my hip, yanking me toward him and showing me just how sharp his edges are. His teeth come next, just grazing my inner thigh, still sharp enough to cut. I gasp and run my hand along his frill when his tongue flicks out to taste me.

It’s soft.

Sensitive.

It flutters under my touch.

“Fawn…” Nyrik groans.

His other hand comes to my opposite hip and he falls on me like a ravenous beast, licking clean up my seam. I jerk my hips at the sensation of his long, forked tongue, but he holds me to him like I have no power over him at all. His tongue lashes me, drags over my clit, then dips inside.

His sharp teeth are so close…I know this could mean pain without so much as a moment’s notice.

“You taste like destruction,” he growls.

I let my hands glide once again over his frill. “What the hell does that mean?”

Nyrik snarls and stands up, his tail lashing. His talons click on the floor as he moves to the control panel, then begins to drain the tub. I stay still, waiting for him to come back, my legs spread for him.

He turns and looks at me, his gaze roaming over my thighs, my pussy…

“All of this is a mistake,” he says. “But we made a deal. We’ll play our game, and then we must part ways—or my place in the Hunt is at stake.”

I frown. “Come on, Nyrik.”

“No,” he says. “We are not friends. We are not…we are not lovers. You are prey and I am predator. And tomorrow…tomorrow we’ll put that to the test.”

He lunges toward me, taking my chin between sharp claws. I let out a gasp, arching my back to give him better access, thinking he’s going to finally give me what I want.

But all he does is stare at me.

“Tomorrow,” he says. “Now get some sleep, Fawn.”

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