Page 92 of His to Hunt

I blink away my tears, but before I can look back, his hand is around my throat. His other hand grabs my hip and moves me up on the bed. I feel the blunt head of his cock against my entrance and gasp when he pushes in. There’s an aching burn when he stretches me that’s different from before, but it still feels incredible.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck, yesssss,” I moan.

“I said I like it. It doesn’t have to become your favorite word,” he growls, driving inside me until he’s buried to his balls.

“I just need you that fucking bad,” I groan, pushing back against him as he starts to thrust.

“Yes, you do,” he snarls, thrusting into me harder.

It’s not as easy or painless as the frenzy, but the roughness is exactly what I need. His hand around my neck, squeezing my throat. His hard cock deep inside me, hitting my g-spot perfectly every time his hips slap against my whipped ass.

I may have bruises tomorrow, but I don’t care. I hope I have a few marks, just to remind me of it. It’s fucking incredible. It’s fucking everything. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Maybe it will become my favorite word.

Maybe I don’t have to be so fucking good all the time. I’m allowed to be… naughty. I’m a druid, after all.

I do rituals in caves and my mate is a wolf shifter. Fuck.

CHAPTER 27

Taryn

It took a few more days than we expected, but we finally have the ingredients for the next ritual: The Ritual of Water. According to the book, I can turn any liquid to water. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. I could do something easy, like a bottle of liquor or a jar of honey. Ritual done. Box two checked.

But Ingrid said the ritual we did in the cave didn’t create any kind of magic that would attract Witch Hunters, much less anything worse. If there’s no danger, I’d like to do something useful with the power. I can only cast these rituals once, because the Ritual of Sunlight was gone the next time I opened the book. It’s just a blank page now.

“Have you finally decided?” Victor asks, nuzzling my neck while I continue to look through options on my phone.

“I think so,” I say, showing him a picture. “I can turn any liquid to water, right? What about oil? There was a spill near Alaska a few months ago. It’s an ecological disaster.”

“It would probably work if it makes contact with the oil, like the ritual says,” he answers. “But something like that could attract attention. Not Witch Hunters; I’m talking about the government.”

“Only if they know we did it,” I reply. “Do you think Saul or Ingrid could help us find a way to do it without anyone knowing?”

“I’ll talk to them,” he runs his hand down the length of my spine, pulling away. “But if there’s any risk, we need to find something a lot safer.”

This may be too adventurous, too bold, but it could also help right a wrong. I’m not sure how much power I actually have. I didn’t summon the sun, just a faint glow. I may turn a puddle of oil into water, and it will have no significant impact at all, but I don’t see the harm in trying. Mother Nature turned tar into water and created the oceans. Maybe this ritual can help preserve what she created.

Victor is on the phone for nearly an hour before he returns with a plan. We’ll do the ritual on a helicopter, dump it as close to the oil spill as we can safely manage, and get the fuck out. It’s a simple plan, but it sounds like it will work.

“When can we do it?” I ask, sitting up on the bed.

“Saul is finding us a helicopter. One we can buy with no paper trail,” he answers. “It’ll be waiting for us when we land.”

“Land?” I raise a brow. “Oh, I guess it makes more sense to fly. I’ve never been on a plane before… or a helicopter.”

“Guess you’re trying all sorts of new things these days,” he growls playfully, kissing my neck and pulling me off the bed. He spins me around and slaps my ass. “Get dressed. It’s not a commercial flight. We’re taking a private jet, and it’ll be ready to go shortly.”

“What’s the difference?” I ask, rubbing my ass as I walk over and open the closet.

“A jet will get us there faster with fewer hassles,” he grins, looking a little bit proud of himself.

I feel like there should be more to it than that but getting there faster seems like a good enough reason to travel by private jet.

After we get dressed and gather our things, we head downstairs. Victor opens my door and I climb into the Land Rover. Instead of slamming the door like usual, he puts my seat belt on and feels me up quite a lot in the process. So much that I’m giggling and trying to push him away when he finally stops.

“We have important work to do,” I laugh, nudging him with my hand. “We don’t have time to play right now.”

“That’s what you think,” he chuckles, closing my door.