Hunter's Need by Shiloh Walker Page B

wasn’t a threat and he knew it. At least not that kind of threat. Not anymore.
    The kind of threat she posed to him was a different story, but one didn’t really have anything to do with the other.
    She’d screwed up and even Duke wasn’t so blind to the fact that she had tried to make amends. She was guilty, never claimed otherwise, didn’t offer excuses or any other lame shit to try to help explain away what she’d done. Even the more plausible reason—her fear for her brother, she never used that card.
    If it was anybody but Ana, he probably even could have found some reluctant admiration.
    But with Ana . . .
    Even as he told himself to stop, to back away, find out what he needed to know and get the hell away from her, he couldn’t. Even as he lifted a hand to touch her, curling it around her neck and tugging her close, he told himself to quit and he couldn’t. “No answer, Ana?” he whispered, rubbing his thumb across her full lower lip.
    Let it go—none of that matters .
    Except it did. It did matter, why she’d all but melted in his arms, melted around him, over him, so damned hot she’d almost burned him. Had she really wanted him? Or had it been because she had psycho bitch pulling her strings? How deep had Cat’s control on Ana gone?
    She shook, her body all but vibrating. She was afraid, he could scent it on her, but it wasn’t just fear. His lids drooped over his eyes, a growl rumbling in his chest, as he realized he had his answer right there.
    Ana didn’t have to say a damn thing.
    She wanted him. All but burned with it.
    That realization could have laid him out flat. Stunned, trying to adjust to it, he stared down at her. She returned his stare, watching him from carefully blank eyes. Those eyes didn’t reveal anything, but her body was a different story.
    Want .
    Need .
    Longing . . .
    It was the last one that really floored him. Longing . . . something that went deeper than desire, deeper than need.
    He scented it on her. It was enough to make his mouth water and his cock swell. It was enough to have his heart aching, for reasons he didn’t entirely understand. Enough to make him want to haul her against him and finish the dance they’d started five years earlier. He didn’t, though.
    Because of her fear. He didn’t like her being afraid of him. Heat—he just wanted to smell heat coming off of her, the heat, the desire . . . the longing.
    “You’re hot now,” he whispered, lowering his head until his lips hovered just a breath away from hers. “I can smell it, almost taste it. Why are you so hot, princess?”
    “Leave me alone, Duke.”
    He should. He knew he should. He needed to back away, get the hell away from her, before the anger took control again, before the hunger burning inside him flared too hot for him to handle, before it spilled out onto them and scorched them both. Instead, he dipped his head and nuzzled her neck, breathed in the soft, warm scent of her. She smelled of lavender, soft and subtle, something that clung to her hair and skin.
    “You know something that’s eaten me up for the past five years?” he whispered, raking his teeth along the curve of her neck. “Five years ago, I had you this close . . . this close to heaven and I would have done just about anything to get inside you. This close . . . and then I realize I’m closer to hell than I am to heaven—and I never even had the chance to fuck you. If you were going to send me to hell, Ana, you could have at least given me a send-off.”
    “Duke . . . don’t.”
    “Why not?” He straightened, staring down at her averted face. He toyed with the top button of her shirt and wondered what she’d do, how she’d react if he bent his head and tore the buttons off with his teeth. “Why shouldn’t I touch you? You want me. You can’t lie about that.”
    She reached up and caught his wrist and shoved him away.
    He let her, although he was tempted not to. And when she stepped back, he let her, even though