Read Online Hunter Betrayed by Nancy Corrigan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nancy Corrigan
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infectious taint from her father.
One day. She’d take the reprieve he gave her, fulfill her
obligation to Ian tonight and return to Calan. She’d survived almost a decade
on her own. One more day wouldn’t matter. When she did get him alone… She
shuddered at the rush of desire tightening her nipples and skipping tingles
along the walls of her sheath.
God, she wanted him packed inside her body. The orgasm he’d
ripped from her had stoked her desire. The release, though mind-blowing, had
only set her needs to simmer. She wanted more, everything he could give her.
She craved the thick length of his cock pounding into her core. Her sheath
clenched on air, the emptiness reminding her of what she’d turned her back on
when she’d fled his prison.
Unable to resist any longer, she skimmed her fingers down
the center of her body, starting at her upper chest, between her breasts to her
bellybutton. The slow stroke quickened her breath. Nearly every night, she’d
brought herself to orgasm by fantasizing about her ghost man. She had pictured
what she’d thought his body looked like, imagined how his kiss would feel and
how his voice in her ear as he made love to her would sound. Nothing had
prepared her for the man she’d encountered when she’d walked into his cell.
He oozed sexuality. Everything about him appealed to her—his
hard body, the harshness of his features and the gravelly growl punctuating his
words. His scent, however, sent her up in flames. She’d always loved the smell
of a campfire. Calan captured the soothing and tantalizing fragrance and
infused it with life.
She conjured his real image. A wash of arousal coated the
lips of her sex. The thump to her clit demanded his touch and the quivering of
her inner muscles begged for his hard length to convulse around. She slid her
fingers to the smooth skin of her sex. A moan escaped with the first caress
along the edge of her cleft. The amount of wetness awaiting her shocked her. It
shouldn’t have. She’d hovered on the edge of a spontaneous orgasm all night.
Another slow trace of her opening and a whimper fell from
her mouth. She squirmed and fought the urge to thrust her fingers into her
core. With the way she responded whenever Calan had starred in her fantasies,
she knew it wouldn’t take long to careen into ecstasy. She didn’t want to rush
into the one-sided bliss. After learning what her phantom lover looked like,
she wanted to pretend he was here, touching her.
For her entire adult life, she’d been half in love with him.
Or at least in lust with him. Either way, no other man had been able to compete
with the release she found by picturing Calan’s eyes and touching herself.
She conjured his eyes first, the thick swoop of his lashes
against the tanned skin of his face. His stark cheekbones, long straight nose
and strong chin added to the image she’d always imagined. Full lips softened
his face. When he’d parted his mouth and invited her kiss, he’d looked like an
incubus, one who’d take her to the highest levels of passion possible.
With two straightened fingers, she breached her opening.
Slowly, oh so very slowly, she pushed them in until her palm met her wet lips.
A twist of her wrist and a curl of her fingers and she tortured herself. In and
out, she moved them in controlled strokes. At the end of each thrust, she
swiped her fingertips back and forth over the hidden section that sent whipping
pulses through her core. A shuddered groan escaped. Mini waves danced up the
walls of her sheath.
She had to push deep to reach her G-spot. Calan wouldn’t
have a problem. His long, slender and slightly roughed fingers guaranteed he’d
take her over the edge with a few swipes. One kiss and he’d stimulated her in inconceivable
ways. She’d never experienced an orgasm like the one he pulled from her. When
he got her naked, she’d combust.
She added her thumb to the mix, rubbing her clit and
flicking the button until it hardened. Each
One day. She’d take the reprieve he gave her, fulfill her
obligation to Ian tonight and return to Calan. She’d survived almost a decade
on her own. One more day wouldn’t matter. When she did get him alone… She
shuddered at the rush of desire tightening her nipples and skipping tingles
along the walls of her sheath.
God, she wanted him packed inside her body. The orgasm he’d
ripped from her had stoked her desire. The release, though mind-blowing, had
only set her needs to simmer. She wanted more, everything he could give her.
She craved the thick length of his cock pounding into her core. Her sheath
clenched on air, the emptiness reminding her of what she’d turned her back on
when she’d fled his prison.
Unable to resist any longer, she skimmed her fingers down
the center of her body, starting at her upper chest, between her breasts to her
bellybutton. The slow stroke quickened her breath. Nearly every night, she’d
brought herself to orgasm by fantasizing about her ghost man. She had pictured
what she’d thought his body looked like, imagined how his kiss would feel and
how his voice in her ear as he made love to her would sound. Nothing had
prepared her for the man she’d encountered when she’d walked into his cell.
He oozed sexuality. Everything about him appealed to her—his
hard body, the harshness of his features and the gravelly growl punctuating his
words. His scent, however, sent her up in flames. She’d always loved the smell
of a campfire. Calan captured the soothing and tantalizing fragrance and
infused it with life.
She conjured his real image. A wash of arousal coated the
lips of her sex. The thump to her clit demanded his touch and the quivering of
her inner muscles begged for his hard length to convulse around. She slid her
fingers to the smooth skin of her sex. A moan escaped with the first caress
along the edge of her cleft. The amount of wetness awaiting her shocked her. It
shouldn’t have. She’d hovered on the edge of a spontaneous orgasm all night.
Another slow trace of her opening and a whimper fell from
her mouth. She squirmed and fought the urge to thrust her fingers into her
core. With the way she responded whenever Calan had starred in her fantasies,
she knew it wouldn’t take long to careen into ecstasy. She didn’t want to rush
into the one-sided bliss. After learning what her phantom lover looked like,
she wanted to pretend he was here, touching her.
For her entire adult life, she’d been half in love with him.
Or at least in lust with him. Either way, no other man had been able to compete
with the release she found by picturing Calan’s eyes and touching herself.
She conjured his eyes first, the thick swoop of his lashes
against the tanned skin of his face. His stark cheekbones, long straight nose
and strong chin added to the image she’d always imagined. Full lips softened
his face. When he’d parted his mouth and invited her kiss, he’d looked like an
incubus, one who’d take her to the highest levels of passion possible.
With two straightened fingers, she breached her opening.
Slowly, oh so very slowly, she pushed them in until her palm met her wet lips.
A twist of her wrist and a curl of her fingers and she tortured herself. In and
out, she moved them in controlled strokes. At the end of each thrust, she
swiped her fingertips back and forth over the hidden section that sent whipping
pulses through her core. A shuddered groan escaped. Mini waves danced up the
walls of her sheath.
She had to push deep to reach her G-spot. Calan wouldn’t
have a problem. His long, slender and slightly roughed fingers guaranteed he’d
take her over the edge with a few swipes. One kiss and he’d stimulated her in inconceivable
ways. She’d never experienced an orgasm like the one he pulled from her. When
he got her naked, she’d combust.
She added her thumb to the mix, rubbing her clit and
flicking the button until it hardened. Each
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