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realized with a jolt. He smeared the cream from her pussy against her and then he pushed just a little inside. Leandra arched back with a hoarse moan. Her skin felt too tight. Too hot. Her heart was beating too fast, so hard she thought it would explode inside her chest.
    “You like that,” he murmured. There was an odd note in his voice, anticipation, satisfaction. Something she couldn’t quite define as he pushed deeper and deeper until he had embedded the length of his finger inside her ass.
    “Perfect . . .” Mike stared down at her, the deep brown of her skin so dark against his. The plump, round curves of her ass pressed against his hips and her pussy gripped his cock in a tight, silken caress.
    And her ass—the muscles inside her sheath there were so tight, Mike couldn’t move his finger without fear of hurting her. He would fuck her there, and she’d love it. She hadn’t been taken in the ass before—he had known it the instant he had stroked her there. Her entire body had gone stiff with shock, and for a moment, he knew she had been caught between embarrassment and want.
    The want had won out—and he knew he’d have her there.
    Not tonight, but soon. For now, he satisfied himself with slow, gentle motions of his finger as he fucked her sweet pussy. She arched, pushing greedily back against him when he tried to withdraw his fingers, and he grinned as she whimpered brokenly, “Please—feels so good.”
    “No more,” he whispered regretfully. “Not tonight.”
    “Please!”
    He swore shakily at the strident demand. Harshly, he said, “No. Not yet. When I fuck your ass, you’ll be ready for it. And any pain you might feel will be because I want you to feel it.”
    “Damn it, Mike. I need more.” She emphasized the more by pushing her hips back against him desperately.
    Mike closed his eyes, gritted his teeth. Then he withdrew his hand, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her torso upright. He shifted back, keeping her pressed against his body as he turned and took her to the floor, pressing her into the unrelenting wood. “Then take more,” he panted as he started to shaft her deep and hard. “But not there. Not yet.”
    She tried to push back up onto her hands, but Mike caught her by the wrists, pinning her down. He growled warningly against her neck, scraping his teeth against her sweaty flesh. “You’ll take what I give you tonight.” He pulled out and drove back inside her, hard and rough.
    She screamed, the sound harsh, startled. Cream flowed from her like a river, bathing his cock, coating his balls. Mike did it again, again, until she closed around him like a vise, coming long and hard.
    He sank his teeth into the firm pad of muscle atop one sleek shoulder as he started to come. As the ripe, hot taste of her blood flooded his mouth, he groaned.
    Long moments passed before he could move. Finally, he lifted off of her, his cock still semierect and making a sucking sound as he withdrew. She moaned, a weak, exhausted little sound. Gently, he picked her up and lowered her onto the bed, grabbing a sheet and hauling it over them as he spooned up behind her.
    He fell into an exhausted sleep, keeping one arm locked tight around her.

CHAPTER TWO

    The nightmare came again.
    It lit into her like a beast, tearing at her with claws of fear, doubt, self-disgust, self-hatred. The pain of it all was welcome, a fitting yoke of burden that she would have worn without complaint.
    Until the dream changed on her.
    It didn’t end with Mike lying helpless as she pumped wolfs-bane and silver into his body. He died in front of her, screaming in agony, and she turned away from him only to level the gun at another Hunter.
    Lori.
    Then Jonathan.
    Malachi—
    Agnes . . . the frail old woman with her faded blue eyes and gentle, sad smile. “It will be all right, love. You must do what you were born to do . . .”
    She kept saying that as Leandra killed her.
    Hard, strong hands touched her, and Leandra