Bought for Christmas Read online

  “Jesus, stop, Emilia, you don’t have to … fuck.”

  Seeing her on her knees her cheeks hollowed out as she worked his dick was just too much. Emilia grinned up at him, released his length with one long slow lick up the thick vein of his cock, and then stuck her fingers in her mouth to lubricate them before she went back down on him and ran her fingers up the cleft of his ass.

  Hunter forced himself to relax when one of the slick digits pushed against the tight ring guarding the entrance. Not an easy task, when she swallowed round the top of his cock, buried deep in her mouth at the same time.

  “Kitten, I can’t … fuck.”

  Hunter fisted his hands and fought his bear with all his might, when a second finger slipped in and she hit her target. His skin heated, and his bear roared, as the waves of sheer bliss pulled him under. Faster and faster she bobbed up and down on his dick, and he came in record time, shooting his load down her throat in a seemingly never ending stream of cum.

  By the time he could breathe easily again, Emilia had stood up, and he tasted himself in the kiss she gave him.

  “Now, scoot, if you can, Sir.” Hunter shook his head at her, and grinned when she made a face at the sticky cum covering her boobs. He wasn’t at all surprised that she hadn’t managed to swallow it all.

  She threw him a glance and took off toward the shower with a speed that would have done any shifter female proud.

  “I bagsy the shower. Make do with the bath, Sir. And don’t be late. I’m starving, and I might just eat that stew all by myself.”

  “You do that, girl, and you will get that spanking.”

  Emilia screeched, and Hunter followed her at more sedate pace, chuckling to himself. He didn’t even mind the row of ginger biscuits he walked into.

  Chapter Nine

  Emilia had to grin when Hunter helped himself to a fourth serving of stew. He caught her doing so and smiled back at her. It made his harsh features light up, and Emilia realized with a start that she had stopped seeing his scars.

  Whereas before she was aware of them, now they had simply become part of him.

  “A man could get a complex being stared at like that. What are you concocting now? I don’t think there is anything left in this cabin that you could turn into a Christmas decoration, unless…” He paused, spoon in the air, midway to his mouth, and a myriad of emotions crossed his face. Sadness, surprise, a brief flash of joy but mostly overwhelming sadness, that made her reach out and entwine her fingers in his free hand. Hunter gave her a squeeze and resumed eating. Silence fell between them, not tense exactly, but expectant, and Emilia did her best not to fidget. When he at long last scraped the bottom of the bowl with his spoon, Hunter pushed the bowl away and regarded Emilia thoughtfully.

  “How badly do you want to decorate that tree?” he asked, and Emilia blinked in surprise.

  “You just said—”

  “I know what I said, girl. Answer my question.”

  The shift into his Dom mode was as unexpected as it was arousing, and Emilia dropped her gaze and whispered her answer.

  “Very much, but only if you truly don’t mind, Sir.”

  “Would I ask if I minded?”

  There was such a curious undertone to his voice. Emilia couldn’t help but shake the feeling that he minded very much. She squeezed his hand, and he ran his thumb over the back of hers in such an absent minded way that she had to look up to see his expression. He noticed of course, but he didn’t seem to mind if the quirk to his lips meant anything.

  It gave her the umph to say what was on her heart.

  “I think you mind very much, but for whatever reason you have decided to go along with this idea.”

  Hunter smiled and lifted her hand up to his lips. Instead of kissing it, however, like she might have expected of him, he inhaled against it and then bit down on her index finger. Tingles of awareness shot up her arm, and he released her fingers slowly, and stood up.

  “Let’s go see if we can rescue that tree first.”

  He strode off, and Emilia followed at a slower pace, admiring the play of muscles as he walked and then heaved the tree into a standing position. Needles went flying, a few branches snapped, but once it was upright it didn’t look too bad.

  “Hmm, I guess it’ll have to do, but it looked a damn sight better before I dragged it all the way.” Hunter glanced at her, and Emilia’s heart broke a little at how hard he clenched his jaw. His whole body tensed as he waited for her verdict, and Emilia smiled.

  “I think it looks perfect. It’s a tree with character. They’re the best ones, don’t’cha know.”

  Hunter didn’t seem convinced, and Emilia wrapped her arms around him from behind and reaching up kissed his neck. His bear rumbled in answer, and she grinned into his shoulder blades, as his muscles slowly uncurled.

  “Can you get it by the fire? I think it would look perfect in there. Mind you I’m not sure how we’ll keep it upright.”

  Hunter tensed again, and Emilia let him go reluctantly when he stepped forward. He didn’t say anything, just picked the tree up and carried it through to the living area. He perched it up against the wall, and Emilia gave him the thumbs up.

  “Can you hold this up for a second?” he asked. “I just need to get something.”

  “Sure, but what…”

  Hunter took off the minute she grabbed the tree to support it against the wall, leaving Emilia more confused than ever.

  ****

  Fuck, why had he ever started this? He knew why, of course. Emilia loved Christmas. She always had done, and seeing her impish smile when she gave him the thumbs up for the tree had made him feel about ten feet tall. He wanted, needed her to be happy, but there had been confusion and worry underneath that smile she gave him. Worry for him. It was a rather curious sensation to have someone be concerned for him. Plenty of folks worried when he was around, but that was usually because they were afraid of him. Not once had he sensed fear from Emilia, though, not even when he had been seconds away from letting his bear loose on her.

  Hunter stared at the old box as though a poisonous snake might be contained within, and in a way it was. The box represented his past. One he hadn’t dared look back at in far too long. One he would have to confront if he was to stand any chance of a long term relationship with Emilia.

  Mindful of the fact that he’d left her holding onto a rather precariously propped up tree, he grabbed the box, and stalked from the spare room. Emilia jumped when he slammed the box down on the floor and the tree stand fell off the top. Her soft gasp sounded like the clang of a cymbal in his head, and he didn’t look at her, while he secured the tree in the stand. His bear whined his distress at the myriad of emotions assaulting his soul, when he saw Emilia bend down and pick up one of the old fashioned Christmas baubles that used to hang on the family tree every year until that fateful day they’d lost Jasper—two days before Christmas.

  As though it had only happened yesterday, Hunter saw himself pulling a lifeless Jasper out of the wrecked car. Heard the noise of the explosion and felt his skin tear and burn as the fire rocketed against him. The pain, the despair and then nothing but blissful darkness until he opened his eyes to read the truth in his mother’s tearstained gaze.

  Fuck, he couldn’t do this. Not caring about what it must look like he tore away from Emilia and the suffocating heat of the fire. He needed to get outside, to breathe clean air, to shift and to run away from the ugly demons. He was out of the door and half shifted before Emilia’s shout registered.

  “Hunter, stop. Please, Sir, don’t do this. Don’t run away.”

  Breaths heaving in and out of his chest, Hunter turned at the bottom of the steps to find Emilia still holding that damn bauble. Tears ran down her face, and she shivered in the freezing air. The storm was over, but it was still far too cold to be out in this. The leggings and long jumper she wore would be no protection for her.

  “Get back inside.” He grimaced at the hoarse quality of his voice, and E
milia shook her head.

  “No, not without you. Not until we talk about this,” she said, and Hunter groaned.

  “Damn it, woman, you’ll freeze, standing there. There is nothing to talk about. You wanted a tree. I got you one. A tree needs decorations. I’ve got you some. What is there to fucking talk about?”

  Emilia’s eyes flashed fire, and he got a second’s warning of her intentions before she threw the bauble at his head, with a growl that would have done any she-bear proud. He ducked at the last minute, and the bright red decoration sailed past him and plopped into the snow. Like a red tear it lay there, before it slowly sank into its powdery grave.

  All the fire seemed to have gone out of Emilia following that action, because she sniffed, and turned back round with a muttered, “Damn you to hell and fucking back, Hunter Monahan.” She slammed the door shut with so much force that an avalanche of snow slid off the roof, further burying the item from his childhood.

  Hunter swore under his breath, got to his knees and shoveled the snow away with his hands until his fingers touched the bauble. A grim smile played on his lips, as he pulled it out, and properly looked at it. There, written in tiny, childlike writing was the message he’d scribbled on it himself.

  Santa, roller skates

  The moisture running down his face took him by surprise. Hunter couldn’t even remember the last time he’d allowed himself the luxury of tears. They didn’t achieve anything, bar making you look like a fucking pussy, and left you with a lump in your throat and a fucking headache to boot.

  Something crashed inside the cabin, and he winced. He wasn’t the only one crying. Emilia’s tears burnt a path of acid over his heart, and he was up the stairs, through the front door and in front of her in seconds.

  Huddled in front of the box Emilia looked up at him, and he dropped to his knees and pulled her in for a hug.

  Neither one of them said anything for the longest time, and when she finally pulled away, and wiped his tears off his face, something broke inside of him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “We can put this away, and—”

  “No.” Her eyes widened at his growled reply, and he cupped her face and kissed the remnants of her own tears off her face. The salty fragrance of her skin called him, and he licked along her jaw. Her heart beat picked up under his fingertips, and it took considerable effort to pull away. Holding up the red bauble he still held in his hand he showed the inscription to Emilia.

  “It was a tradition in our house to write what we wanted on the baubles. Mum and Dad got four new ones every year, and we would scribble on them whatever it was we wanted most that year. I remember doing this. I was seven. Fiona at school, who I loved with all the passion a seven year old is capable of, had roller skates and she promised to teach me how to use them, if I got some of my own. Naturally, that meant roller skates were the must have present that year.”

  He glanced up to see Emilia smiling at him.

  “Naturally,” she said. “Did you get them?”

  Hunter, too, grinned in remembrance.

  “Oh, yes I did. As did every boy in our class. I’m afraid Fiona was rather a tease.”

  Emilia giggled, and Hunter relaxed further into telling his tale.

  “Of course that meant the competition was on. I had to become the best damn roller skater in the school. One has to impress the ladies, you know.” He reached up to put the bauble on the tree, and picked up another one.

  “This one—”

  “Hang on,” Emilia interrupted him. “What happened with Fiona? Did you get your girl?”

  Hunter hung his head and stuck his bottom lip out, which made Emilia giggle. Hunter breathed a sigh of relief. He so loved that giggle.

  “Sadly no. After all that effort she chose Lawrence. Who didn’t know how to roller skate, was short and fat, but a genius, and did her homework for her.”

  Emilia tried to stop laughing, but failed miserably, and Hunter winked at her.

  “Brain over brawn, was it?”

  “Oh, I had the brains, but I wasn’t gullible enough to help her cheat, and I’m no one’s doormat.”

  Emilia sobered and nodded.

  “No, I bet, even back then you were rather the take-charge type, huh?”

  Hunter shrugged and bared his teeth at her in a goofy smile.

  “I shall neither confirm nor deny that, for fear it might be used against me at a later time.” He kissed her on the nose. “Now, like I was saying, this one, I got my dad to write, because I didn’t know how. I was three, and I wanted a train set.”

  Time flew by as Hunter told the stories associated with each bauble, and his heart felt lighter with every little thing he shared. Emilia chipped in with anecdotes from her own childhood, and by the time he lifted her up on his shoulder so she could put the star at the top of the tree, it was late, and Emilia yawned.

  In truth, Hunter, too, felt exhausted. All this purging one’s demons wore a man out.

  He threw another log on the dying fire and pulled Emilia into his side, as they lay on the soft rug, looking up at the tree.

  She propped herself up on one elbow better to see him, and his throat went dry at the wealth of emotion he saw in her gaze.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me, Sir. It can’t have been easy.”

  Hunter nodded and pulled her back down until her head rested on his chest, and his bear grunted his approval at having her this close to him.

  “It wasn’t, but telling you has made me realize that there are plenty of things in my past worth remembering. I had forgotten I even had that box. I found it in Mum and Dad’s house after they’d passed on, and I couldn’t bring myself to chuck it out, so I brought it up here and shoved it into the spare room.”

  Emilia snuggled in closer and kissed his chin.

  “Did they not celebrate Christmas either after…”

  Hunter sighed and shook his head.

  “No, none of us did. Or if they did, I wasn’t part of it. To be honest I spend most of the Christmases that followed too drunk to even remember them. It seemed easier that way. Once they passed away within hours of each other, I just pretended Christmas didn’t exist.”

  Emilia sat up, and he, too, followed, not ready to lose contact with her.

  “Within hours of each other?” she asked. “Is that another shifter thing?”

  “Yes, kitten. They were a mated couple. It syncs their life spans. Typically one doesn’t survive long without the other. It’s what makes the whole being mated thing such a big deal. It really is for life. There is no divorce when you’ve found your mate.”

  Emilia went quiet and worried her bottom lip with her teeth again. He was beginning to realize it was a tell-tale sign of her emotions. She was chewing something over in her mind, and his insides twisted in on themselves.

  “So how does one become one’s mate? Is it like in the books?” She blushed when he raised his eyebrows.

  “And what sort of books would that be, kitten? Because I’m pretty sure there are no how-to manuals for shifters in existence. At least not for humans.”

  Emilia avoided his gaze, and he grasped her chin to make her look at him.

  “Eyes on me, girl, and answer my question.”

  A pretty blush stained her cheeks, and had it not been for his enhanced hearing he’d have missed her mumbled reply.

  “Shifter erotica, Sir.”

  “I see. So, you tell me what usually happens, and I tell you if you’re right.”

  Hunter had a hard time keeping a straight face. She looked too adorable all flustered like this.

  “Err, no, Sir, I’d rather you tell me, because … well, that’s just fiction.”

  Hunter smiled and ran his thumb over her soft lips.

  “Truth can be stranger than fiction at times.”

  “So, it seems, but will you please tell me how it works?” She didn’t quite manage to look at him when she said that, and the emotion choking him meant he had to clear his throat several time
s before he could project his voice with any of its usual authority.

  He, too, stared into the fire, his senses too aware of her reactions as it was.

  “I guess, humans would call it falling in love at first sight, but it goes much deeper than that. It’s the knowledge that that particular person is the only one for you. It’s everything. The way they talk, look, their scent. A person’s scent changes as they get older, did you know that?” He glanced across at her to see her shaking her head. “So, even though you might have known them for a while, say as a child…”

  Emilia gasped and drew her knees up to her chest, and an ice cold fist squeezed his chest. It made breathing difficult, and he forced his bear to stand down. The animal was too agitated by the confusing signals Emilia sent out right now.

  “When you see them again, all grown up, you realize they’re your mate? Is that what you’re saying?” Emilia whispered the question, and Hunter breathed out slowly, all too aware of the way her breathing sped up and her heart beat thundered.

  “Yes, kitten, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  Emilia took a deep breath as though to try and steady her nerves.

  “Has that happened to you?” she asked. The wobble in her voice meant he had to look at her, and he knew his bear was showing in his eyes by Emilia’s reaction. Her breathing hitched and her eyes widened, and she leant in closer, as though she, too, felt the pull of the mating bond.

  “Yes, it did,” he said.

  Emilia opened her mouth as though to say something, but nothing came out bar a strangled squeak, and he balled his hands into fists on his thighs to stop from reaching out to her. A myriad of emotions crossed her face, and when she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “So, why haven’t you claimed her?” She flicked a glance up at him, and he smiled.

  “It’s not as easy as that, kitten.”