Spellbound

One

Max Westin stood in the coffee shop across the street from the St. John Hotel and barely tempered his anticipation for the orgasms he’d be relishing in the hours ahead.

The woman who would be serving his needs was already inside. He’d watched Victoria greet her morning business appointment at the curb, her lithe body encased in a black pencil skirt and emerald silk blouse that perfectly matched her sloe eyes. She’d been wearing nude stilettos, making her already long legs appear endless.

He couldn’t wait to feel them wrapped around his hips, tightening in a vain effort to hold his thrusting cock inside her.

The barista called out his name and he went to the counter to collect Victoria’s favorite tea, which he’d ordered liberally laced with heavy cream. As he exited to the street, he checked his watch, noting that he would be exactly on time to use lunch as an excuse to monopolize her attentions. His blood thrummed through his veins, heating with every step he took.

He’d been gone for two days on a High Council summons and he felt the withdrawals of separation acutely. His dick was thick and heavy between his legs, his balls full and tight. The need to come in the tight, plush depths of Victoria’s honey-sweet cunt rode him hard.

Max entered the St. John through the revolving lobby door and nodded at the three employees manning the front desk. If he’d been certain Victoria’s morning meeting was over, he could’ve bridged the distance between them in the blink of an eye, an embarrassingly simple spell for a warlock of his power. Instead, he rounded the corner to step into the private pass-coded elevator.

As the car began its ascent, he forcibly reined in his desire. His endless hunger for his mate had been sharpened by the black magic that shrouded his latest hunt. Although Victoria was more than strong enough to sate his darkest cravings, he wanted to greet her with tenderness. He wanted to show her that he’d missed her from the very depths of his soul—because he’d begun a hunt without her and knew that would hurt her, despite the validity of his reasons for doing so.

The moment the elevator doors opened on the executive level, he saw her. His chest tightened with the ferocity of his love for her, the fierce sense of connection he’d only ever felt with her. She stood in the reception area of her office, one hand on a slim hip and a wide smile on her stunning face. She spoke to the two men Max had seen with her on the street, and their avid gazes betrayed their heated masculine appreciation. The men were enchanted by her beauty and mischievous nature, as all males were, and she was toying with them like the cat she was.

Max gestured for her secretary to remain quiet so he could enjoy the show, but Victoria felt him, felt the charge of power that surged between them and the inner serenity that came from being rejoined with the other half of one’s self. She glanced at him, and he could almost see her swish her tail.

“Ah, gentlemen,” she purred. “You’ll have to excuse me now. My lunch date is here.”

The two suits looked at him then, sizing him up.

“Don’t let me rush you,” Max told her. “I can wait.”

“I can’t.” She came to him and took the cup from his hand. “My favorite tea. Thank you. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in my office? I won’t be but a moment.”

He moved to do as she asked, his hand brushing affectionately and proprietarily over the curve of her hip.

Victoria’s office had walls of windows on two sides—one overlooking the bustling city below and the other facing the reception area. It was a feminine space that still conveyed power, and it was where she ran a hospitality empire. Her quick and clever mind kept her a few steps ahead of her competition, while her feline sensibilities assured comfort, luxury, and unobtrusive service for her clientele.

Unbuttoning the jacket of his Armani suit, Max shrugged out of it and tossed it over the back of a chair facing her desk.

Before he’d ever met her, he had admired her intelligence and ambition. In the time they’d been together, his respect and appreciation had only deepened. Being here, in her lair, reinforced his pride in her accomplishments. He knew damn well how fortunate he was to be the man who laid claim to her. It was a decision he’d make again if given the choice, even knowing what it would cost him and all he would risk to share his life with such a magnificent woman.

She entered the office in a rush, her eyes bright with love and pleasure at the sight of him. Her glossy raven hair was shorn close to her scalp, to better showcase her slender neck and sculpted cheekbones. That luxurious pelt remained unchanged in her feline form along with her eyes. In either incarnation—woman or Familiar—she took his breath away.

Love for her lengthened his cock and goaded every primal instinct he possessed. She’d been close to feral when they first met. His assignment had been to either tame her for eventual pairing with another warlock or vanquish her. In the end, he could do nothing but keep her for himself. She’d become as necessary to him as the air he breathed. The shadows of wildness in her perfectly suited his tendency to skirt the edges of black magic.

Kicking the door shut behind her, Victoria crossed the expansive room with her lush feline grace. “I’ve missed you like crazy, Max.”

“No more than I’ve missed you.” He wrapped her throat with his hands, mimicking the collar that bound her to him. With a thought, he set a glamour on the wall of windows framing her office door, shielding their embrace from view of the reception area and creating a compulsion to avoid disturbing them.

He was home. She was his home.

Max took her mouth in lush hot kiss, his tongue thrusting deep and sure, sliding along hers. His grip tightened, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to increase the feeling of pressure that would urge her mind away from work and into the place where just the two of them existed. Victoria moaned and melted into him, instantly shedding the weight of command and surrendering to his insatiable need for her. A wild joy filled him.

I love you. Her ardent declaration slid through his mind like fragrant smoke, chasing away the shadows that had steadily encroached on him over the last two days. Black magic was seductive, and hunting two consummate practitioners had reawakened his craving for it. If not for Victoria’s love, he might be vulnerable to its lure. She kept him sane and straight, anchoring him as his power continued to grow with every day that passed.

His lips parted from hers and moved to her ear. “Were you good while I was gone?”

She clutched his waist. “Of course. But it was hard.”

Pulling back, he looked at her. He rubbed his thumb over her full bottom lip, knowing how needy she must be after obeying his command not to pleasure herself while he was gone. “Not as hard as my dick has been the last two days. I was going to wait until after lunch, but I’ll have your mouth now, kitten.”

She nipped the pad of his thumb with her teeth, her eyes submissively downcast. He tugged her backward, keeping her with him until he reached the front of her desk and half sat on the edge.

“Touch me,” he ordered, needing her hands on him.

She unbuttoned his vest with nimble fingers, parting the edges to run her hands down the length of his tie. “What did the High Council want?”

“What They always want.” He took a deep breath, hesitating to ruin her happy mood. “Sirius Powell escaped.”

Victoria stilled, her hand settling over his heart. Then she pulled a chair over and sat. “How is that possible?”

“He had help—Xander Barnes escaped with him.”

Her hand went to her throat, feeling for the collar that only those who practiced magic could see. His collar—the symbol of her submission and his possession. Victoria understood the gravity of the news. Both Powell and Barnes were vicious rogues so addicted to black magic that they killed those who practiced it to steal their power.

She didn’t ask him why They’d chosen him. She knew he was the Council’s first choice for hunting Others—those who’d crossed over too far into black magic and couldn’t be saved. Still, he elaborated, “I’m the one who captured them both to begin with.”

Her hand dropped to her lap and curled into a fist. “Of course. Were they separate then? Or together?”

“Separate. But my orders are different this time. Now I just need to put them down.”

“You said ‘I’ instead of ‘we.’ ” Her gaze hardened. “We’re a team, Max. You don’t work alone anymore.”

He cupped her face in his hands. As a Hunter of rogues, he shouldn’t have a Familiar. While Familiars augmented a warlock or witch’s power tremendously, they were also a terrible point of weakness in battle. He understood firsthand how true that was, because he’d very nearly lost Victoria in their fight against the Triumvirate. The sight of her bleeding and broken in the snow that night, her life slipping away even as he gripped her body close, had taken him to the brink of insanity. But he would never give her up; he couldn’t. He had forsaken everything he’d ever worked for, forfeiting a prized seat on the High Council and thereby inciting its members’ wrath, because his life wasn’t worth living without her in it.

“There’s a reason Hunters don’t have Familiars,” he reminded gently. “Besides, this is unfinished business from before I met you.”

“So was my fight against the Triumvirate,” she shot back, “but I let you fight it with me. Don’t you dare act like I’m a liability.”

His fingertips followed the curve of her eyebrows. “You’re my heart.”

“Max.” Her voice softened. But as she searched his face, her gaze narrowed and took on the calculating look of a clever feline.

To distract her and remind her of the command she had yet to obey, he waved a hand and stood before her naked, his clothes folded neatly on the sofa behind her. Sitting at eye level with his groin, Victoria licked her lips. She fought her need to obey for a moment, then conceded and reached for him, her slender hands circling his aching length.

Max’s hands slid to her throat, tilting her chin up so that their gazes met. “You’ll suck my cock because it pleases me, not because you see it as a way to manage me.”

“Why can’t it be for both reasons?” she challenged.

“Ah, Victoria,” he crooned, his blood heating at a dangerous pace. With a focused thought, silken rope appeared and coiled sinuously around her wrists, binding them behind her back. “Let’s occupy that pretty mouth of yours with something else before you get spanked.”

“Max . . . ” She trembled with excitement, her nipples hard beneath her blouse. As much as she liked control, she liked relinquishing it as well—to him. Him alone.

“On your knees,” he murmured, stroking himself from root to tip.

She slid from the chair and lowered gracefully to the floor, her balance honed by her feline side.

He fisted his cock, stroking a stream of pre-cum to the tip. “Lick it off, kitten. With that hot, rough little tongue of yours.”

Tilting her head back, she opened her mouth, moaning when he cupped the back of her head in one hand and slid his cock into her with the other.

“Deep and slow,” he instructed.

Max watched her submit, a groan tearing from him at the feel of her. Her mouth flowed over him, surrounding the sensitive crown in a wash of wet heat. His head bowed forward, his gaze slitting as his eyelids became weighted with drugging desire. He touched her hair, running his fingers through the short cap of silky strands, trying to convey without words how much he treasured her.

Then she sucked, pulling him deeper, and his body stiffened as the pleasure threatened to destroy the reins of his control.

He groaned, his dick so hard it ached. “You suck me so good. There’s nothing in the world like fucking your greedy little mouth.”

Her wicked tongue fluttered across the underside of his cock head and sweat broke out on his chest. She watched him with those tip-tilted green eyes, her love burning hotly, her awareness of her feminine power shining in the emerald depths. The tip of her tongue probed the hole at the head of his cock, lapping up the pre-cum that flowed in a steady stream.

“Gods, you’re beautiful . . . ” He shuddered as she nuzzled his balls with her cheek. They were already high and tight, heavy with semen desperate to spurt down her working throat. She took a deep, drawing pull on the tender crest, milking him. She swallowed greedily, purring, eliciting another wash of creamy cum.

She hummed her delight at the taste of him, sucking faster, tonguing the thick crest.

His hands fisted; one at his side, the other in her hair. His abdomen laced tight, his body fighting the need to come too quickly. Her mouth was so plush and hot, her desire so ravenous. The erotic sounds filling the room spurred his lust, pushed him closer to the edge of reason.

“You’re killing me,” he said gruffly, his chest tight with love for her. “Not too fast. Make it last.”

She moaned around his cock as if she worshipped it, releasing him to kiss the tip before tracing the thick veins along the length with her tongue. The brutal pleasure battered at what little control he had after going days without her. Dark magic writhed inside him, struggling against the emotions Victoria inspired. There was no room for love in black magic. And no room for black magic in Max’s bond with his beloved.

“Max,” she breathed. “Don’t hold back.”

Angling his cock, he traced her lips with the tip. “I’ll come for you,” he promised roughly. “When it’s time.”

She pouted and he smiled grimly, knowing she thought he was teasing her. The truth wasn’t as pretty, but similarly motivated by his concern for her. When he came, his magic would flow into her, become magnified by her Familiar gifts, and returned to him. She’d feel his turmoil then and understand where it came from.

She took him deep, her cheeks hollowing.

“Victoria.”

Her tongue fluttered against the sensitive underside, teasing him, tempting him with the promise of an explosive climax.

Cupping her cheeks to hold her still, Max rocked his hips, fucking her eager little mouth at his pace. Sliding in and out, he allowed the pleasure to build until he felt the first tingles of orgasm. Then he slowed, savoring the rush.

“Gods,” he growled, his legs weakened by the ferocious need to let go after days without her.

Victoria whimpered and sucked franticly, her tongue swirling. Her need to please him moved him, urged him to give her what she wanted. He released her and grasped for the desk, his hands curling around the edge.

She bobbed her head and took him to the back of her throat, again and again, her eyelids fluttering as she focused on finishing him. Her plush lips slid up and down his length, stroking him, coaxing cum into her working mouth. Sleepy-eyed, she stared up at him, her nipples straining, begging for his touch.

He cupped her tits in his hands, squeezing them, his thumbs circling over the tight points. She shivered and moaned, the vibration reverberating through his tightly strung frame. Her pheromones permeated the air, the scent so carnal and tantalizing he couldn’t resist it.

With a gasp, he let go, coming. The first wrenching pulse jolted through him, molten heat racing down his spine before bursting from the tip of his cock. He growled as he spurted hotly, pumping semen across her flickering tongue. Her throat hugged him, closing on a deep swallow as she drank him down. Spots swam before his eyes, his lungs seizing as the orgasm shattered him. His power exploded from his taut frame in a surge of heat.

The lights flickered wildly. With a pained cry, Victoria absorbed the magic into her, then released it in a power surge that snapped the rope at her wrists and exploded the lightbulb in her desk lamp. Darkness hissed through the room, coiling and slithering, then slamming into Max and rocking him back into the desk.

Victoria stumbled up and into him, catching him and holding on. Max buried his damp face in the crook of her neck and crushed her to him, shuddering as the power pulsed through him like a viciously pounding headache.

Her fingers dug into his back. “Max . . . What have you done?”

Two

Xander Barnes lifted his wineglass to his lips and looked through the restaurant’s windows to the bistro patio across the street. There, Max Westin was hand-feeding tempting morsels to his beautiful Familiar. “We’ll have to vanquish her,” he thought aloud. “She’s making him too strong. We’ll never take him out while he has her.”

“Hmm.” Sirius Powell cut into his steak. “Before I saw them together, I would’ve agreed. But I’ve changed my mind. See the way he looks at her? He loves her. It would be a waste to excise such a weakness with a single strike.”

Xander crossed his arms. A soft afternoon breeze rifled through his copper hair like a lover’s fingers. “We’ll have to use her against him, then. ”

“Yes. I think so.”

“She has Darius Whitacre’s power.”

Sirius smiled and set down his utensils. The Familiar was unique, thanks to her previous warlock who’d bequeathed her his power. That magic made her strong, which made Max Westin stronger, but it also created a novel vulnerability. “Whitacre’s power makes her susceptible to black magic. We just need to give her the incentive to use it.”

“Westin is already dabbling in it to lure us out. If she hasn’t had a taste of it yet, she will soon enough.”

“Which will give her a taste for more,” Sirius finished. “Darius’s magic isn’t her only weakness. Westin is, too. Considering how territorial Familiars are, she won’t want to be reminded about how many witches Westin has enjoyed.”

Xander laughed softly. “You want to make a Familiar jealous? You are evil.”

Sirius toyed with the long blond braid hanging over his shoulder. “And we’ll get a great show. Who should we tap to get things rolling?”

“Jezebel Patridge,” Xander said without hesitation. “She and Westin were hot and heavy for a while. When he was hunting me, I considered using her as leverage, but it didn’t pan out.”

“How do you propose getting her involved?”

Grinning, Xander leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine. “With a note from Westin himself. Easy enough to counterfeit.”

Sirius lifted his own glass in toast. “This should be fun.”

Something was wrong.

Victoria leaned into the threshold of the kitchen and watched as Max prepared dinner. From the first night he’d walked into her life with the High Council’s order to either tame her or kill her, he’d been taking care of her. She’d never been so pampered and spoiled in her long life. In return Max expected nothing but her love, trust, and submission, all of which she gave him, despite her alpha female disposition.

Her adoring gaze took in every mouthwatering inch of him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. His inky-black hair hung to his shoulders in a thick luxurious mane, framing a face so savagely masculine it made her shiver just to look at him. His eyes were the gray of a summer storm and his lips were simply divine, so firm and beautifully sculpted.

His powerful arms and back flexed as he worked at the stove, his body unadorned except for a loose pair of silk pajama pants. His bare feet were a wicked enticement for her feline sensibilities, luring her to shift forms and twine around his ankles. His skin was the color of the richest caramel, the texture firm and satin soft. His taut ass made her mouth water, and when he turned toward the sink, she eyed the unmistakable sway of his heavy cock, her pussy clenching hungrily for the feel of him thrusting inside her.

The two days she’d spent without him had been torture enough, but the hours since lunch had been worse. A wall had gone up between them since they’d left her office. Knowing he was home but still distant was both physically and emotionally painful. He’d shut her out in a way he never had before. Although he was still affectionate and attentive, there was no doubt that he was shielding her from the truth of where he’d been the last two days and what he’d done. During lunch he’d talked about everything except what he had decided to do about the Council’s summons.

Max had always been one to use gray magic. But what she’d felt today was much more dangerous. And far more seductive.

Even now she could feel the darkness shrouding his soul and the iron control he was exerting to contain it. The hunt for sorcerers of Sirius Powell and Xander Barnes’s power would push him to the very edge. The assignment would tax his strength in myriad ways and it was up to her to support him through it. But she couldn’t do that if he wouldn’t let her in.

Untying her black silk robe, Victoria went to him and pressed her bared torso to his back, her arms wrapping around his chest. Her palms slid over his washboard abs and firm pectorals, squeezing the hot, hard flesh with greedy hands.

“I love you, Max,” she murmured with her lips to his shoulder blade.

“I know, kitten.”

She reached lower, cupping him through the silk of his pants, then loosening the drawstring to fist his thickening cock skin to skin. “I need you.”

He swelled in her grasp, eliciting a purr of delight from her. Her nipples stiffened, her pussy softening in readiness. She stroked him from root to tip, making him longer and harder, priming him to pleasure her.

Abruptly, he turned off the burner and spun fluidly. He took control with breathtaking ease, catching her hands behind her with one of his own. Excitement flushed her skin.

Max loomed over her, his eyes stormy and hot. His free hand ran down the center of her body from throat to sex, possessively cupping the pulsing flesh between her legs. “What do you want, Victoria?”

“You.” She spread her legs, inviting his touch. “I’ve always wanted you, from the moment you walked into my life.”

Parting her, he gently rubbed her clit. “You’ve had me from the beginning.”

Her entire body softened, her heart pounding at being restrained and pleasured. “I don’t feel like I have you now.”

He circled the clenching entrance to her body with skillful fingertips. “You own me.”

She gasped as he lowered his head to lick across one peaked nipple, his tongue a velvet lash. “Why won’t you talk to me about what’s happened the last couple of days?”

His silky hair brushed over the curves of her breasts. His lips surrounded the aching point, his cheeks hollowing as he suckled her. Two fingers pushed inside her. “I missed you,” he murmured against her damp skin. “I’d fuck you endlessly if I could, stay inside you forever. When I’m not in you, I’m thinking about it. Craving it. I don’t feel whole when I’m not a part of you.”

“Be a part of me now,” she whispered, her hips circling onto his gently thrusting fingers. Fire raced across her skin, eliciting a mist of sweat. Her womb clenched with the depth of her need to be connected to him.

“I’m cooking now.” His whisky-rough voice was low and firm, his fingers stilling . . . letting her feel him there, letting her crave the friction and heady rush of release. “When it’s time to play, I’ll tell you.”

“Please, Max.”

“Shhh. I’ll take care of you.” He curled his fingers and stroked over the tender spot inside her, over and over. She climaxed with a soft cry, quivering in his arms.

He gave her what she wanted without giving anything of himself away.

His lips brushed across her parted ones, her panting breaths gusting over his jaw. “Better?”

Victoria whimpered as his fingers left her. “No.” Without his pleasure, she was empty. Unfulfilled. “You’re shutting me out, Max.”

His gaze slid over her face, so full of love and yet so guarded. “You have to trust me.”

Her chest tightened painfully. “That’s not fair.”

“Come to terms with it, Victoria,” he said with quiet authority.

“We’ve always worked together,” she argued.

“And we will again, when the situation warrants it.” He caught her chin in one hand. “Even with Darius’s power, there are limits to what you can do. And augmenting my magic when going after two rogues like Sirius and Xander can backfire.”

“Then let me support you at home! Talk to me. Don’t leave me in the dark.”

Max’s hand slid beneath her robe to cup her bare buttock and drag her hard against him. “Let me take care of you. That’s all I need.”

His head lowered and he took her mouth, kissing her with the possessive passion that had seduced her from the first. His firm lips sealed over hers, his tongue gliding deep to stroke against her own. A growl rumbled in his chest and vibrated against her breasts, the light dusting of hair on his chest an unbearable stimulation. He was hard and thick, his erection pressing against her lower belly.

He ate at her mouth, possessing it, tasting her with long deep licks. His fingers pushed into the short strands of her hair, cupping her scalp and holding her steady as he drank in her taste. His tongue fucked her leisurely, teasing her with the promise of what she truly wanted.

Victoria moaned, lost in him. Her lips felt swollen and hot, her eyelids heavy with the drugging effects of Max’s skilled seduction. His fervent words echoed through her mind, his declarations of uncontrolled obsession in erotic contrast to his absolute control while handling her.

When she was breathless and pliant, he pulled away. Running his tongue along the kiss-plumped curve of her mouth, he murmured, “Dinner first.”

Victoria nodded, but her mind raced. She’d already lost a man she loved once. She’d be damned if she would sit quietly while it happened again.

Three

Max speared another slice of a bay scallop, swirled it in savory cream sauce, then lifted it to Victoria’s lush lips. She purred as she chewed, her nails raking along his thigh as she swallowed. Pride and pleasure slid through him along with the heat from two fingers of fine Scotch.

She shook her head when he speared another slice. “No more. I can’t eat another bite.”

Setting the fork down, he leaned closer and licked a spot of cream from the corner of her mouth. He’d never thought he would have a Familiar. Never believed he’d want the responsibility. But looking after Victoria—feeding her, bathing her, loving her—was the reason he breathed.

“You brought a movie home,” he reminded. “Do you want to watch it?”

“Do you?” Her voice was soft and husky, her cheeks flushed with vitality.

She’d been too thin when they first met, suffering from the lack of a master to care for her. She had lost her previous warlock, Darius, two centuries before, and neglect had taken its toll on both her appearance and her temperament. She’d been near feral, taunting the High Council with random acts of mischief and outwitting the numerous Hunters they sent to tame her.

Loving that spirit in her, Max had been careful in his care of her since she’d become his, maintaining the firm hand Familiars thrived under, yet giving her enough room to continue to challenge him. It was a delicate balance, one that kept them both content. He loved her with every breath in his body, desired her with a depth of need that was unquenchable.

“Let’s watch it,” he said, wanting to hold her while he considered their next best steps. He’d gotten more than an orgasm earlier; he had gained an understanding of just how dangerous his hunt for Sirius and Xander was. The magic he’d poured into Victoria had been tainted and she had cleansed it for him, restoring his equanimity, but at what cost to herself?

Victoria carried the wine and goblets into the living room while he cleared the table. When he joined her in the vast space of their loft’s living room, he found candles flickering on every surface and his woman curled on the couch with the remote in her hand. He took a moment to study her body, gilded by candlelight, then lit the fireplace with a snap of his fingers. Sinking onto the couch, he smiled as she snuggled against him and started the movie. Her selection of The Expendables 2 had him grinning. It was just so . . . her. Reclining into the cushions, he stroked his fingers through her hair and thought of the most efficient way to lure his prey out into the open.

The movie was halfway over when he decided Victoria was due a reward. He knew submission didn’t come easy to her, partly because of her nature and partly because of Darius, who had gifted her with his magic as he lay dying from a battle with the Triumvirate. She was the most powerful Familiar the Council had ever heard of, and her pairing with him, the most accomplished Hunter, made her even more powerful. Ceding control was difficult for her, which made her doing so extremely precious to him.

Grateful for her love and trust, he stroked his hand down the graceful curve of her spine, then slipped beneath the hem of her robe to play with her.

She turned her head to nuzzle into him, her breath hot against his throat as she whispered, “Oh, Max . . . I love it when you touch me.”

He pulled her onto his lap facing the television, splaying her legs on either side of his to open her to his questing touch. Her head lolled on his shoulder, her breath quickening as he parted her and massaged her clit. Turning his head, he rimmed the shell of her ear with his tongue, his cock hard and aching against the curve of her ass.

“I love touching you,” he said softly, sliding one finger into her plush, silky cunt.

She lowered the surround-sound volume with her power, her hand covering the one he slid between the halves of her robe to cup her breast. “You need me, Max. Not just in your life and your bed, but in your work. Especially with a hunt like this.”

He withdrew his slickened finger and returned with two, thrusting gently into her trembling cleft. “They’ll gun for you in order to get to me.”

“Of course they will.” She sucked in a shaky breath as he deliberately coaxed her to a fever pitch, his fingertips massaging the sensitive tissues inside her. “But we’re stronger together than apart.”

Licking into her ear, he pressed the heel of his palm into her clit. She gasped and climaxed, rippling around him. The feel of her writhing in his lap was delicious. He wondered how he’d survived before he found her. When he contemplated his past, it seemed no more than shadows, memories that lacked clarity and definition. Worlds away from the vibrancy of his current existence.

The rest of the movie passed in a blur, his attention solely on the treasure in his arms. He slid his fingers in and out of her in a deliberately leisurely way, fucking her gently, making her come repeatedly until she begged for his cock.

When the credits began to roll, he cupped her jaw and turned her head. He took her mouth with all the hunger surging inside him, the need for her that was never fully appeased. She whimpered as the kiss grew reckless and greedy, his tongue thrusting deep and fast, lapping up the intoxicating taste of her.

Victoria twisted in his arms, facing and straddling him, her hands pushing into his hair. His breath soughed from his lungs; his cock was wet with anticipation.

“Time to play, kitten,” he said gruffly.

Victoria pulled back to meet Max’s heavy-lidded gaze. “I need more than this. I need you to need me, Max. For everything. Especially your work.”

Shadows passed through his eyes. The air around them grew charged, became heavy and electrified. Power pulsed off him in waves, lapping against her senses like waves on a beach.

His lips thinned into a grim line. “I’m not liking how you’re bringing this discussion into playtime. You can’t lead me around by my dick, Victoria. But you can damn well piss me off by trying.”

She felt the sash of her robe slither around her wrists, binding them together behind her. Her breathing quickened until her chest was lifting and falling rapidly. Her pussy grew slick with wanting, her body preparing for the delicious invasion of his. When his hands gripped her hips, she shivered, her desire sharpened by the fine edge of fear. She knew he’d die before he ever hurt her, but his was a dark soul, his sexual hungers ferocious and insatiable, his need to dominate her an intrinsic part of their love affair.

In the time they’d been together, he’d taken her body in ways she could never have imagined, pushed her to her limits and beyond. He was a skilled lover, master of her desires and his own, his control unwavering.

With effortless strength, he lifted and positioned her, holding her aloft above the broad head of his cock. It notched into the clenching opening of her sex, then pushed in the few inches required for her knees to sink into the sofa cushions. She gasped at the teasing fullness, the taunting pressure spurring the anticipation of feeling his thick length sliding deep.

“Don’t move,” he warned darkly, forbidding her from sinking into his lap. “You’ll take my cock when I give it to you.”

Running his hand tenderly up her spine, Max cupped her nape and urged her to bend forward so he could take her mouth. Her eyes closed as their lips touched and the angle of his penetration pressed hard against her G-spot. She clenched around the plush head, hungry for the feel of it tunneling deeper and stretching her.

“Max,” she whimpered, desperate for friction.

“Milk my dick, kitten. Show me how much you want it.”

Victoria tightened down, rippling greedily, her aching sex trying to pull him inside her.

With a rough tug on her hips, Max obliged her, yanking her onto his raging erection with a force that drove a cry from her.

“Max!”

He groaned. His gorgeous face was flushed and taut, lines carved by the ecstasy of their joining. He ground his hips upward, screwing deep. “Hot, tight little fuck.”

With her wrists bound at her lower back and her canted position, she had no leverage. She could only give her weight over to Max and let him use her as he needed, let him hold her in place while he thrust into her.

The act of giving herself so completely to him, of surrendering her body without reservation, was profoundly arousing. She grew wetter by the moment, her pussy quivering along his plunging length in helpless delight. Erotic sounds filled the room—Max’s growls and her deep purrs, the slap of flesh meeting flesh, and the soft sucking of her creamy sex as he shafted her.

“Fuck me,” he ordered, his hands straightening her angle so that she was upright. Catching her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he rolled and tugged as she rode his cock. The wicked pulling on her sensitive flesh echoed between her legs. He pinched her hard enough to make her cry out, then cupped her breasts in his palms, kneading them to soothe the sting. All the while her hips pounded into his, his cock bottoming out on every deep thrust.

His breath gusted across her skin as he whispered darkly, “You feel so good. So wet and tight. Your cunt is squeezing me like a fist. I’m seconds away from coming hard in you.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her sex spasming in expectation, sucking him greedily.

His arms banded like steel around her. With a feral growl, he climaxed, spurting with such violence she felt it. His magic hit her like a sledgehammer, invading in a deluge, the taint of black magic wrenching a scream from her throat.

Her Familiar power enhanced Max’s magic and cycled it back into him. He seized as it hit him, his breath hissing as his climax was spurred by the power rush, his cock swelling as he pumped her full of hot creamy semen.

Victoria trembled with the need to come, her pussy primed and so ready. But he hadn’t told her she could and her body hovered in anticipation of the command.

Pushing to his feet, Max turned and bore her to the couch, looming over her with his big, powerful body. His hips lunged, plunging his thick cock deep inside her. He fucked her roughly, his control barely maintained, his demand for her climax implicit in the way he took her. Gripping the sofa arm, he powered into her, driving her to orgasm with long, fluid thrusts.

“Come,” he growled. “Come now.”

Victoria’s back bowed as the pleasure speared through her, her sex tightening, then convulsing around him. She cried out, trembling, racked with love and longing and a desperate surge of magic. Power exploded from her, snuffing out the candles, then reigniting them with bright licks of flame. Max arched upward, his head thrown back with a virile snarl. He became the eye of the storm, his body the nexus of the magical tempest.

She clung to him as it ravaged him, the anchor he needed yet refused to reach for.

Four

In the early hours of the morning, Max slipped from bed, careful not to wake Victoria, who slept deeply. She might not realize it yet, but he was draining her, his magic greedily tapping into hers. Such was the way of parasitic black magic. It was ravenous and soul destroying, turning warlocks and witches into junkies who cared for nothing as much as they did their next fix.

He pulled on his pants and tied the drawstring as he moved out into the living room. Over the next hour, he increased the wards around the loft, tightening security to protect his most valuable possession. He’d nearly lost Victoria in the battle against the Triumvirate and had nearly lost his mind in the process. He had crossed a line that night, using both white and black magic to lure her back from the Transcendual Realm. He’d changed then, been stained by that violation of a sacred law. The Council chose not to disavow him, because he was too valuable to Them as a warlock who would do whatever was necessary.

Once he’d secured their home, he moved into the bedroom. The woman who slept in his bed was stretched out like a cat, her arms above her head and her legs extended. Soft purrs rumbled in the air, filling him with a contentment he’d never known before her. The deep purple satin sheet was draped over her pale skin, covering her taut belly but leaving one breast and leg exposed.

He shouldn’t have come home to her after starting the hunt. He should’ve stayed away until it was over.

“Max.”

Managing a smile, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Victoria’s sleep-soft mouth. “Good morning.”

“Why are you out of bed?”

He nuzzled his nose against hers, then straightened. “Planning what to feed you for breakfast.”

“Umm . . . ” She smiled her catlike smile, a provocation his body responded to instantly.

“Would you like to shower before or after?” He enjoyed Victoria any way he could get her, but naked and wet was one of his favorites.

“I want to lie in bed with you all day.”

Max took a deep breath, wanting the same thing but knowing he couldn’t afford to lose an entire day. As long as Powell and Barnes were out there, Victoria was at risk. “Soon, kitten.”

Her gaze narrowed. “You’re starting the hunt?”

“No time like the present.” He headed to the kitchen, hoping to avoid a fight.

It was a fruitless exercise, he realized, when a sleek black cat raced by him and promptly sat on the threshold to the kitchen. Victoria couldn’t keep up with his long stride in her human form, but she had him beat in her feline one.

“Sweetheart,” he said sternly, moving to step over her and getting swiped at instead.

She shifted, appearing before him in all her naked glory.

His breath caught as it always did when he saw her bared. He’d never wanted any woman more.

With an impatient wave of his fingers, he covered her in a red silk robe, loving the way the color contrasted with her creamy skin and dark hair. “We’re not rehashing this.”

“At least tell me where you’re going and how long you’ll be gone.”

His brows rose. “That sounded like an order.”

“Maybe it was. You came after me, Max, when I tried to walk out of your life. You claimed me. If you didn’t want the hassle, you should’ve let the Council pair me with Gabriel, as They intended—”

Victoria! Magic surged out of him along with acidic jealousy. He couldn’t think of her with someone else, it made him furious. “You’re pushing me, kitten.”

“You’re pushing me aside!” she argued.

Recognizing the fear in her eyes, Max pulled her close and pressed his lips to her forehead. “They’re close,” he said softly. “Too close. I need to know you’re safe or I’ll give them an opening that wouldn’t be there otherwise.”

“I feel them, too,” she said, snuggling into him. “You’re strong, Max. The strongest warlock I’ve ever come across, but it’s two against one! At least with me, you can even the odds.”

“I can even the odds without risking you.”

“With black magic. That’s too dangerous!”

He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Like calls to like. I have to draw them in.”

“Which is why it’s even more important that I be with you!” Pulling back, she looked up at him, her emerald eyes pleading. “I can keep you grounded.”

“Or I could taint Darius’s magic and push you too far.”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?”

Releasing her, Max ran a hand through his hair. “Among other things.”

Her eyes widened, then softened with love. “You’ve never been afraid before.”

“I never had anything to lose.”

She cupped his cheek and lifted to her tiptoes to press her mouth to his. Her tongue darted over his lips, leaving the taste of her behind.

“Don’t worry about me,” she murmured.

“I can’t stop it.” He caught her waist, felt how fragile she was. For all her power, she was soft and delicate. “I won’t make it without you, Victoria. You’re everything to me.”

“Max . . . ”

He kissed her, silencing the pleas that strove to weaken his resolve.

Victoria worked hard to accept Max’s decision, fighting the sense of foreboding that had her agitated. The last thing she wanted was to distract Max in any way from his hunt, despite her certainty that he shouldn’t go alone.

He slid the zipper up the back of her skirt, then ran his hands over her hips. His lips touched her nape and her eyes closed. She’d become so accustomed to being cared for, she had been lost the two days Max had been gone.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, though it was a lie. He would take her to work, then disappear, and she had no idea when—or if—he’d be back. It wasn’t in her nature to accept not getting her way. Max was the only one who ever told her no. She’d learned to accept it, knowing the reward would be worth suffering the denial, but she couldn’t see a reward here, beyond hoping and praying that he returned to her alive and untainted.

His hand linked with hers, and in the blink of an eye, they were around the corner from the St. John. She was struck once again by the breadth of his power . . . and turned on by it. Max wielded his magic so easily. Effortlessly. And carried the weight of it with an air of command that was sexy and devastatingly attractive.

“Keep your guard up,” he said quietly.

“Yes, of course.”

He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, then finally her mouth. He smelled wonderful and looked even better. Tall and powerfully lean, his broad shoulders hugged by tailored Armani. The black three-piece suit complemented his dark hair, framing a sculpted face that still made her breath catch when he smiled.

“Stop worrying,” he admonished.

Overwhelmed by fear for him, Victoria caught him by the tie. “Refuse the hunt. Don’t go.”

“Victoria—”

“They can send someone else.”

“I don’t want them to send someone else.”

She froze. “Why? Did the High Council threaten you? Did They threaten me?”

“No.” He cupped her nape in his hand and his silver gaze slid over her face. “Hunting is what I do, Victoria. You’ve always known that.”

“Yes, but there will be other hunts. You don’t have to take—”

“None this challenging.”

She stared at him, her breath quick and her pulse racing. “You’d choose this hunt over me?”

“Don’t.” His face hardened. “I am who I am. You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

“I want you alive!”

“You want a predator, just like you. You ruined every Hunter that stalked you before I came along. Ruined them and tossed them aside.” He caught her by the arms and lifted her onto her toes. “I hunt and I catch. I caught you. I’ve kept you. And I’ll come home to you. Don’t try to leash me, kitten. I won’t have it and you wouldn’t want it.”

I love you.

She watched his eyes close as her words drifted through his mind. I love you back.

Max wrapped her up in his arms. He held her close and she didn’t care that they were embracing on the street with people walking by. She didn’t want to let go.

“Come on,” he said finally, pulling back. “The sooner I get started, the sooner it’ll be over.”

“You already started.”

His chest expanded on a deep, slow breath. A silent admission.

With his hand at her elbow, he led her around the corner and came to an abrupt stop. Victoria stumbled into his side, gathering her power to face the threat. It wasn’t what she expected.

She wasn’t what Victoria expected.

Petite and voluptuous, the blonde waiting in front of the St. John was clearly expecting Max, as evidenced by the wide curve of her pink lips when she saw him. The tension that gripped Max’s frame in response made Victoria’s claws extend and a low growl rumble in her chest.

The woman was a witch. A powerful one. Victoria could feel the magic pulsing off her. Wearing towering stilettos and a sleeveless blue wrap dress that matched her eyes, the witch was being eyed appreciatively by every man within viewing distance.

“There you are,” the blonde said, walking toward them in a leisurely, seductive way, her waist-length hair swaying gently. “You always like to keep me waiting. Not that I’ve ever had cause to complain in the end.”

She ignored Victoria altogether.

“Jezebel,” Max drawled. “What are you doing here?”

“Once I heard your name linked with Powell and Barnes, nothing could’ve kept me away. A dual hunt like this comes once in a lifetime.” Her mouth curved and her blue eyes sparkled with feminine appreciation as they raked him from head to toe. “Considering how long we live, darling, that’s saying something.”

She stopped in front of Max and ran her hand down his tie, disregarding the fact that he was holding hands with another woman. He caught her by the wrist, which only made her smile widen.

“Jezebel, let me introduce you to Victoria. Sweetheart, this is Jezebel . . . an old friend.”

Victoria bristled, aware of precisely how good a “friend” Jezebel had been to Max. The sensual awareness between them was obvious, as was their chemistry.

You fucked that? she asked.

Sheath the claws, kitten.

Jezebel flicked her gaze to Victoria for the first time. “A Familiar. How quaint. I’d heard you’d paired with one, but couldn’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” Victoria growled, punctuating her words with a sudden gust of air that sent the blonde stumbling back a step to totter on her heels.

“Victoria,” Max warned. You can’t take her on, she’s too powerful.

I don’t care. She’s talking around me as if I’m not here!

She’s trying to get to you, he said grimly, and you’re letting her.

Jezebel laughed huskily and shook out her hair. “She’s not tamed at all, is she? Knowing you, Max, you find that a challenging form of entertainment.”

Victoria waited for him to say something in her defense. Instead, Max said, “Let me see Victoria to the door, then we’ll talk.”

If you head off with that bitch, I’m going to be pissed.

You’re already pissed, he retorted.

Max!

She felt a flare of magic that cut off their sharing of thoughts and her stomach knotted. He was changing. Worse, he was disconnecting from her in the process.

His perfunctory kiss on her forehead and briskly spoken I love you did nothing to alleviate the fear that she was losing him.

Victoria watched through the revolving glass entrance doors of the St. John as Jezebel linked her arm with Max’s and led him across the street. They made a striking couple—Max tall and dark, Jezebel petite and golden. There was also a natural familiarity in the way they moved together.

He’d been with her for a considerable length of time at some point.

Seething with jealousy and territorial possessiveness, Victoria turned on her heel and headed toward the elevators, determined to find out exactly how much of a threat Jezebel was.

Five

Too easy,” Xander said, his eyes on the stiff-backed Familiar as she marched through the entrance of the St. John Hotel. An entrance he’d empowered with a spell that provoked restlessness.

Sirius’s head turned as he followed Westin crossing the street. He had more than a score to settle. He wanted to hit the High Council where it hurt, and turning their golden boy into a dark master would be a crippling blow. Westin had already done much of the work for them by breaching the Transcendual Realm. His aura was tainted by the effort. He should be rogue . . . hunted . . . But Westin always got away with everything. The Council was more afraid of losing him than keeping him.

“We’ll need more than that little run-in,” Sirius murmured. “We’ve got one shot at tainting that Familiar. If we fuck it up, Westin will know and take steps. We won’t get a second chance.”

“Got something in mind?”

“He needs to have a reason not to send Patridge off on her merry way. He’ll keep her close if he thinks she’s a target.”

“You want to take ’em both on at once?” Xander turned wide eyes to Sirius. “Now we’re talking!”

Sirius transferred to a point ahead of Westin and his hot piece of ass, lingering in half form in the shadows. Extending a ghostly hand—the shape formed by grasping tendrils of gray smoke—Sirius cast a spell that formed a dark puddle on the sidewalk. It writhed gently, ripples forming as it sensed its prey approaching. Xander joined him just as Jezebel Patridge stepped into the deceptively shallow-looking water.

She screamed as the water rushed up her body like a sleeve, greedily hugging the curves that Westin was intimately familiar with. A laugh bubbled up in Sirius’s throat—

Westin pivoted abruptly. Thrusting out both hands, he launched a ball of energy from his fingertips. It struck Sirius in the chest with unerring precision. It sent him spinning deeper into the shadows. Then farther, into oblivion.

Arianna settled into the seat in front of Victoria’s desk and crossed her jeans-clad legs. The witch wore her red hair cropped short and spiked. Brown eyes rimmed heavily with liner and burgundy-stained lips emphasized the paleness of her flawless skin. It also caused people to misjudge her as delinquent and ungifted.

Fact was, Arianna was the best scribing witch Victoria had ever come across. Whether it was information or an object, Arianna could find it.

“Westin’s been shagging Jezebel Patridge on and off for the last twenty years or so,” the witch announced, sliding into her customary slouch.

Victoria caught her breath, then exhaled in a rush. “Twenty years?”

“Nothing serious, from what I heard. Most of those I talked to describe it as a friends-with-benefits kind of thing. He certainly hasn’t been monogamous. He’s been bed-hopping the whole time. Although beds aren’t always involved, I’ve been told.”

That didn’t make Victoria feel better. “Twenty years is a long time.”

“Yeah.” Arianna shrugged. “There are no gruesome stories about a nasty breakup or anything. I get the impression it’s more like a breather between the two rather than a split.”

Pushing back from her desk, Victoria stood and began to pace. Her feline need to roam when feeling caged had kicked in with a vengeance. Everything seemed off. The hotel staff was being run ragged by guest queries and requests. She wondered if the restlessness she felt was affecting everyone around her or if the reverse was true.

“Also,” Arianna went on, “Patridge has become somewhat of an expert on Westin and his technique. She’s given lectures at the academy breaking down the methods he used to capture Barnes and Powell, so the information I gathered was mostly authored by her.”

Which meant Jezebel might actually be useful to Max on a hunt for those same rogues, not that Victoria was soothed by the thought. She’d researched Max when they first met, but only superficially. She realized that she had subconsciously—but likely deliberately—avoided digging into his personal life. Even then she couldn’t bear the thought of him with someone else.

“Have they hunted together in the past?” Victoria asked, pausing at the window to stare out at the urban jungle spread before her. Fog hung over the city, obscuring the upper halves of the skyscrapers that dotted the landscape for miles. Below, traffic slid along the streets in endless ribbons, the cacophony of the city lapping at her heightened feline senses.

“Not that I could find. Listen, don’t get twisted out of shape over this. No guy is worth it. Besides, the binding works both ways. You hardly ever hear about mated pairs fucking around on each other.”

“You hardly ever hear about mated pairs composed of a Hunter and Familiar either,” Victoria said drily, turning to face the redhead again.

“True.” Arianna stood and withdrew a flash drive from her pocket. She tossed it to Victoria. “But he’s not worth shit if he can’t keep it in his pants for you.”

Victoria caught the drive and her hand closed like a fist around it. The level of Max’s experience had been evident from the moment she laid eyes on him. Every inch of him exuded sin and sex. From the sensual way he moved to the confidence in his eyes. And when he touched her, his skill blew her mind.

Max Westin fucked like a god.

Still, men who played sometimes strayed, and clearly Jezebel had something Max hadn’t minded tapping over and over again. For decades.

“I’ll bill you,” Arianna said, heading out.

Gathering her resolve, Victoria sat at her desk and plugged in the flash drive. She was sliding the arrow over to click the drive open when she felt the first tingles of Max’s magic tapping into hers. Without further warning, the force of the draw exploded. It sucked at her strength like a raging vortex, dragging her down until she tumbled from the chair to the floor.

“Damn it.” Jezebel stared into the steaming mug of tea she held with both hands. “That attack shouldn’t have scared me as much as it did.”

Max stood over her, his thoughts grim.

She tilted her head back to look up at him. She wore one of his robes, her clothes discarded because of the taint that clung to them. She’d showered, but her hair and makeup were flawless as usual, reapplied with a simple spell.

He glanced at the clock, knowing Victoria would be leaving the hotel within the hour. He couldn’t risk her coming home alone and unprotected, no matter how much power she carried on her own. “I have to go.”

“Don’t go after them without me!” Jezebel protested, pushing to her feet, a move that caused the robe she was wearing to part and reveal the length of her bare leg.

Once, the sight would’ve stirred his lust and hardened his cock, but it had little effect on him now. His thoughts were with Victoria.

They weren’t all focused on keeping her safe.

Spurred by the rush of wielding the full force of his magic, his desire was white-hot, his mind racing through one erotic scenario after another. He wanted his woman stripped and bound, her lithe body spread and open to his lust. Only then would she be open to the rush of magic that would replenish what he’d taken from her earlier. Replenish him as well, building the reserves he’d need to vanquish his prey once and for all.

“I’m going to get Victoria,” he said, his voice hoarse from the depth of his need.

Jezebel’s mouth tightened at the mention of his Familiar. “I’ll go with you.”

“Not a good idea.” His kitten already had her fur ruffled over Jezebel. But more relevant was the fact that when he got his hands on Victoria, he wasn’t letting go until he’d come his last drop in her. It was certain Jezebel wouldn’t appreciate cooling her heels while he did so.

“Doesn’t she know what you’re like, Max?” she asked, her eyes diamond bright . . . and equally hard. “Jealousy is pointless when it comes to you.”

“I’m not the man who used to fuck you, Jezebel.”

“Has she tamed you, then?” she goaded softly. “What a shame.”

His mouth quirked and he stepped away, deciding not to bother with his vest and jacket. His blood was hot with the hunt, making him want bare skin over clothing. “You and I can be friends, Jezebel, or not. That’s up to you.”

She materialized naked and on her knees in front of him, her head bowed in a pose of submission she knew would goad his dominant nature. Her hands rested on her knees, her body waiting for his command. “As long as I get your cock inside me, you can call me whatever you want. I need it, Max. I feel empty without it.”

Max took a deep breath. His body was hard and aching, and black magic still clung faintly to Jezebel, calling to the darkness inside him. His mind retained heated memories of his past with Jezebel, a true submissive, which prompted a reluctant response to the sight of her capitulation. While Victoria eventually surrendered, it wasn’t without some resistance. She gave him control because she chose to please him, not because she had a true compulsion to do so.

But she was the only woman he wanted. The only one who could soothe the beast inside him.

He flashed to Victoria’s office, incited by the thought of subduing her naturally defiant nature. In that respect Jezebel was right—he loved the challenge.

His kitten sat behind her desk, a frown of concentration on her beautiful face as she read from her monitor. Her long slender legs were crossed at the ankles beneath her desk, while diamond studs sparkled with multihued fire at her ears. He flashed behind her, reading over her shoulder, intrigued by the realization that she was studying up on him.

Gods, he loved her. Loved that she was as consumed by him as he was by her.

“I want your cunt,” he said gruffly, driven hard by his need. “And your ass.”

Her head swiveled toward him and she pushed to her feet. “Max. What the fuck happened today?”

He snapped his fingers and removed her clothes, leaving her as naked as Jezebel had been. The two women could not have been more different, not just in their appearance but also in their effect on him. While his lust had been stirred instinctually by Jezebel, what Victoria incited in him was a different sort of hunger altogether. Ravenous. Insatiable. Soul-deep. One goaded as much by his love for her as it was by his desire for her body.

“On your knees,” he ordered.

“Max—”

“Now.”

Her jaw tightened before she shoved her chair aside and obeyed. That hint of rebellion pushed him further. He touched her shoulder and took her across town to his loft, a space he no longer resided in but kept as a playroom.

“That’s right, kitten. It’s time to play.”

Six

Victoria stiffened when she realized where Max had taken her. Unlike the apartment he shared with her now, with its warm palette of honey-hued hardwood floors and cream-colored walls, Max’s former bachelor pad was industrial in style. An acid-washed cement floor chilled her bare knees, while exposed ductwork hovered above her head and pale gray walls surrounded them along with an impressive collection of sexual paraphernalia.

Her pussy clenched with longing, her body trained to anticipate the pleasures to be found in the familiar space. But anger and jealousy simmered inside her. She didn’t want to play. She wanted to fight.

“Where’s Jezebel?” she asked, keeping her head defiantly back to stare up at him.

His mouth curved in a slow, sexy smile. “Your possessiveness makes my dick so hard it hurts.”

“Are you sure your hard-on isn’t due to seeing the woman you’ve been banging for twenty years!”

Max began to undress, freeing the buttons of his shirt one by one, exposing the hard expanse of his chest one inch at a time. “I could be in her now,” he drawled, his gaze heavy-lidded with the arousal that strained against the zipper of his slacks. “She’s naked in our apartment. On her knees and desperate for my cock.”

She gasped, then moved to rise. “What the fuck?”

With a careless wave of his hand, he undressed her and sent her across the room to the bed. A bondage bar appeared on the red satin beside her and a tremor ran through her at the sight of it. Soon she’d be helpless and exposed, her body restrained and arranged to service him. Before Max, she had never imagined that she would crave that level of vulnerability and loss of control. Now she couldn’t imagine doing without it. He told her what to do, what to feel. And in return she’d orgasm until she was insensate with pleasure.

“You can’t hold my past against me,” he said, his voice tight and low. “I like to fuck. So do you. For the rest of our lives, we’ll be fucking only each other. Nothing else matters.”

He approached her with that wickedly sexy stride, one that promised as much as she could take, his body rippling with muscle. His erection was thick and long, the wide head glistening with his excitement. It curved up to his navel, the size of him enough to make her thighs squeeze together against the ache he created. She pushed up and curled her legs beneath her, wanting him but wanting answers, too.

It was harder to stay focused on talking than she cared to admit. She knew exactly how that big dick felt inside her, how it stretched her and rubbed all the most sensitive spots, how she writhed beneath his hard body and begged for him to give it all to her.

“Max . . . ”

“I should be hunting.”

He reached the end of the bed and she saw the sweat glistening on the steely ridges of his abdomen. A creamy, glistening drop of pre-cum slid lovingly down the thickly veined length of his cock.

He was so hot for it.

“Instead,” he went on, “I can’t breathe for wanting you. Can’t think. Can’t wait to sink my dick inside you and come until my balls stop aching.”

“Did she make you this hot?” Victoria asked softly.

“Never.” He grabbed the bar in his fist, the bright chrome suddenly looking dangerous when held by that beautifully defined arm. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. You know that. Stop doubting me, Victoria. It’s starting to piss me off.”

She took a quick breath, her nipples hard and aching. He stood there waiting, a formidable male in full rut, his face harsh in its unyielding masculine beauty. His virile body strained with the need to mount her.

“You know what to do,” he said huskily. “Don’t make me wait.”

Victoria turned and stretched out facedown, spreading her legs to accommodate the bar. Her pulse quickened, spurring her breathing and her desire. Still, she couldn’t hold back from saying, “She wants you back.”

His former lover had been in their home, naked and willing. What excuse could there be for that?

“I don’t care what she wants. I only care about you.” Butter-soft leather wrapped around her ankle and tightened. “Your magic is in me. I feel you. Smell you.” His hand slid adoringly up the back of her leg. “Taste you.”

She moaned. “Why is she in our home?”

“Why are you obsessed with her?” His hand came down hard on her buttock, the sound of flesh hitting flesh cracking like thunder. She cried out and squirmed, her skin on fire from the spanking. “You know I love you too much. There’s no room for anyone else.”

His voice throbbed with emotion and Victoria’s eyes closed tightly. His hand smacked hard against her other cheek and the heat swept through her legs, swelling the lips of her sex.

“You don’t know how you look together,” she moaned. “How obvious it is that you enjoy fucking each other. You wouldn’t understand unless you saw me with one of the Hunters that came before you. See how they look at me in a way that says they know what it feels like to have me suck them off . . . how it feels inside me . . . ”

“Victoria,” he growled, just before he bent and sank his teeth into her hip. Punishing her. Marking her.

She sobbed, so aroused her body hurt. “I hate that she knows how good you feel. The sounds you make. I hate that you wanted her so much.”

“Not as much as I want you,” he breathed, nuzzling his cheek against hers. “Not even close.”

The other leather cuff magically secured itself on her ankle.

“She was targeted today,” he told her roughly. “Struck right on the street in broad daylight with me beside her.”

Victoria’s breath caught.

“I told you how dangerous this hunt is. Told you they’d come after those around me. It could’ve been you—”

His voice broke. Sliding his hands gently beneath her torso, he cupped her breasts and pulled her up onto her knees. He moved onto the bed, tugging and milking her nipples. His chest was hot and hard at her shoulder, his hair a soft caress against her neck. Her back arched, pressing her aching breasts into his hands, her balance fully dependent upon his strength.

“It could have been you,” he said again, his lips at her throat. “And I couldn’t have borne it, Victoria.”

“Let me help you. Please.”

“You’ll help me now.” He gripped her nape firmly in his hand and urged her forward, anchoring her by the waist as she folded to press her cheek against the bed.

Her arms pushed through her splayed legs and were instantly bound to the bar by leather cuffs. She was helpless and unable to move, her hips arched high and held wide, her sex open and positioned for his pleasure. The deepest penetration.

Victoria creamed with excitement and anticipation. The more restrained she was, the hotter Max got. The hotter he got, the more she wanted him.

He straightened and snapped his fingers. It was the only warning she got before the lash of a flogger stung the back of her thighs. She moaned into the comforter, absorbing the sting of pain into her clenching core. Inside her, something rebelled. But it wasn’t stronger than her desire. Max took her places she didn’t want to go and yet couldn’t wait to get to.

His hand stroked over the heated, smarting skin. “Stop fighting me.”

“Fuck me.”

The flogger came down again. She gritted her teeth against the pleasure/pain. Max used the perfect amount of force, his actions skilled and methodical. She couldn’t help but wonder at the practice he’d had, the darkness in him that made him need unequivocal subjugation.

“Stop analyzing me.” His voice was low and controlled, quietly authoritative. He whipped her again, striking new flesh with unerring precision. When he was done, the temporary marks he left would form a clear artistic pattern. “Stop doubting me.”

“Max . . . ” The plea in her voice came from a wellspring inside her that only he’d ever tapped.

“Stop second-guessing me. I spent only two days away, Victoria, and you seem to have forgotten what you promised me.” The suede straps whacked against her buttocks. “To serve, obey, and please me. To never question an order or deny me anything. To never tell me no.”

“I give you more than I’ve ever given anyone.”

The flogger came down harder. Not enough to bruise her, but enough to tighten her attention on him. On the sound of his steady, unaffected breathing. On her pounding heartbeat.

To make her wetter. Needier.

“You’re too focused on your vulnerability,” he crooned, massaging her burning flesh with gentle fingertips. “It was a gift you promised me when I claimed you, but you’ve never really given it, have you? But I’ve kept my promise to you. To cherish you . . . treasure you . . . to keep you safe.”

“Your life is dangerous, Max. You’re dangerous. That’s part of the package.”

“Are you still arguing with me, kitten?”

She tensed, but he switched his game on her. From pain to pleasure. His clever fingers gliding over her exposed pussy. She shivered as sensation darted through her, tightening her skin. A gasp escaped her as he rubbed her clit, circling over it with featherlight pressure.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he murmured, his breath hot against her glistening folds. His tongue teased her, rimming the opening to her sex. “Soft and tight and creamy. I’m going to fuck it hard and have the most delicious orgasm inside it. I’m going to pump you full of thick, slick cum.”

“Yes. Max . . . please.”

He straightened and caught her hips, rolling her carefully to her back. She lay splayed before him, her ankles and wrists by her ears. “You won’t come.”

She whimpered and swallowed hard. “I’ve obeyed you.”

His silvery eyes stared down at her from within a face sharpened by lust. There was a wildness in his gaze she hadn’t caught before. “In practice, if not in spirit?”

Alarm tingled through her. “What happened today, Max?”

Gripping the back of her thigh, he took his cock in hand and stroked it between the lips of her sex, coating her with the pre-cum that leaked copiously from the tip. He was so big and hard, thicker than she’d seen before. Veins coursed down the length of the shaft as well as up his straining forearms, his body poised to mate as hard as he’d promised.

“I vanquished one of them,” he bit out between clenched teeth.

Then he rammed his cock into her, his magic slamming into her with equal force.

Victoria’s mouth opened on a silent scream. Possessed by him. Ravaged.

Seven

She came. She couldn’t stop it. Primed and too ready as she was, it took only the brutal thrust of that big cock into her tender sex to set her off. Dark magic pounded at her as hard as Max did, every plunge into her pussy accompanied by a surge of power. She quaked beneath him, her sex milking his shuttling cock, her vision blackening for a moment as her blood coursed hot and fast.

Gripping the backs of her thighs, he kept her pinned and spread for his maddened fucking, a captured vessel for his raging lust. His hips powered between hers, his sac smacking rhythmically against the curves of her ass. His cock pumped her slick pussy, plunging in and out, his body working like a well-oiled and high-performance machine.

“Mine,” he growled. “Mine.”

“Max . . . please.” Victoria didn’t know if she was begging him to stop or never to stop, her body reveling in the rough treatment, loving the act of being used for the sole purpose of giving him pleasure. His cock drove relentlessly into her, thrusting through grasping and greedy tissue, sliding furiously across sensitized flesh.

He threw his dark head back, his hair drifting around his broad shoulders, muscles straining and neck arching as a rush of white-hot semen spurted inside her. Her hands and feet flexed with the need for movement, her chest heaving for breath as he emptied himself without missing a stroke. A virile snarl reverberated through the massive room, a sound of primitive masculine satisfaction that had her coming again.

Her body was still racked by the potent climax when he yanked free of her. The bar disappeared and he flipped her, mounting her from behind and hammering deep. Sprawled prone on the bed and blanketed by his fevered, sweat-slick body, Victoria clawed at the comforter and bit into it, stifling the cries of pleasure she couldn’t contain.

Her eyes rolled and then closed, her senses overloaded by the smell of Max’s hardworking body, the feel of his muscles flexing against her as he succumbed to animal instinct and lost everything except the need to ride her and come in her. His cock retained its desperate hardness, his magic pulsed in her, flooding her. His aura was smoky and dark, tainted by magic he’d absorbed from the vanquishing earlier that day. She understood his black mood then. Understood what was driving him so hard.

She surrendered, opening herself in every way. Max felt it and snarled, his hands gripping hers, their fingers lacing tightly. Magic cycled between them, the essence cleansed as it filtered through them both.

His face pressed into the crook of her neck, his sweat blending with her own, his chest heaving with exertion. He fucked her like a man possessed, and maybe, in a way, he was. She could only take it, take him, and come. Over and over again.

I love you. He nudged her thigh wider with his knee so he could thrust deeper. Love you.

Victoria pressed her cheek to his. I know.

Xander straightened from his lounging pose in a darkened shop doorway across the street from the apartment building where Westin lived with St. John. The warlock had left earlier, a fact made evident by the sudden void where magic had pulsed before. Still, a quick reconnaissance had revealed he’d left powerful wards in place. That was to be expected.

What Xander hadn’t anticipated was Westin’s absorption of some of Sirius’s magic. That development infuriated him. He’d carefully manipulated Sirius into thinking he was the bright one, giving him false confidence. Xander had planned every word and action to goad the other warlock into striking at Westin first. He’d deliberately appeared in the shadows at the precise moment of Sirius’s attack, catching Westin’s attention and thereby luring the Hunter to strike out and vanquish his foe. The plan had been for him, Xander, to absorb Sirius’s power, not Westin. Then he would’ve been powerful enough to draw the attention of the Source of All Evil. He might have become as potent as the Triumvirate had once been.

But all wasn’t lost. Westin would pour some of that hijacked magic into St. John, making it easier for Xander to do so as well. The Familiar had been feral once. A hefty dose of black magic and a tiny seed of doubt about Westin would push her over that edge again. Sirius had been useful in coming up with that plan. If Xander could turn St. John, she’d be uncontrollable, wild, and Westin would lose the augmentation she gave him. He’d also be knocked off his game by being at odds with his lover, and that’s all Xander needed—a single opening.

“There you are,” he murmured to himself as a lovely blonde spun through the revolving doors of the apartment building as if he’d conjured her.

Dressed in a new outfit composed of slim black slacks and a blue sleeveless blouse, Jezebel Patridge ignored the greeting of the doorman and glared at the world around her. She could’ve bridged the distance between the building and anywhere she chose to go, but she clearly had no idea where to end up and probably lacked the desire to leave. She wanted Westin. Taking off wasn’t going to help her cause. But waiting around for him was clearly not sitting well.

Xander stepped out of shadows and sent out a soft pulse of magic to attract her attention. When she glanced his way, he shifted as if hiding from her gaze and set off at a brisk walk. Fleeing. Or so she’d think.

And she would chase him. She was a Hunter, after all. And he was a rogue, presently on the Council’s most-wanted list.

Five minutes later, Patridge’s hair was spread out in a golden halo on the dank ground of an alley, her chest split by a dual hit of magic.

Xander squeezed his wrist and smiled as he dripped his tainted blood into the cavity.

Max circled Victoria’s nipple with his tongue, his hips rolling softly as he stirred his cock in her cum-soaked depths. She mewled, her fingers stroking weakly along his back. She was exhausted, her short cap of hair wet with sweat, her skin flushed a rosy pink, her dark lashes fluttering over closed eyes.

He gentled her while soothing himself. He was as exhausted as she was by his violent need to dominate her. To rut in her until he doubted he could stand. And she’d let him.

It angered him that he hadn’t seen his need for what it was—the black magic inside him seeking an outlet in his beloved Familiar. His soul mate. The woman he loved more than he’d ever thought himself capable of loving anyone.

Now her skin tasted of that taint, her addicting vanilla essence muskier and more provocative to his senses. He was spiraling down the drain and taking her with him.

Turning his head, he teased her other nipple with light laps of his tongue. “Am I hurting you?” he asked, his voice hoarse from the many times he’d roared his pleasure while coming.

“No,” she whispered, her fingers digging into his ass with the barest force. “Don’t stop.”

His cock slid in and out of her leisurely, concern for her comfort foremost in his mind. He’d stop if he could, but he needed the connection, needed to be certain that everything was okay between them. The smell of her skin, the softness of her body, her touch . . . nothing in his life had ever been as necessary as she was.

Shifting carefully, he began to stroke the head of his cock over the sensitive bundle of nerves inside her. He felt the tension in her rise, listened for the catch in her breath. When she seized in orgasm, he groaned and followed her, coming along with the delicate rippling of her cunt.

He was gasping and shuddering with pleasure when he felt the warding around his loft signal the presence of magickind. He was on his feet in an instant, his cock wet and semi-erect, his body tapping into his newly stored magical reserves to strengthen muscles weakened by hours of hard sex.

You have exceeded our expectations once again, the Council said, a multitude of voices speaking eerily as one—a hive mind of the most powerful witches and warlocks of all time. You vanquished Sirius with astonishing swiftness.

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked, tugging on a pair of jeans. He cast an eye toward the bed and saw that Victoria had curled onto her side in a catnap.

Your power is impressive. We would like to see a demonstration of it.

“The fact that Powell is dead is demonstration enough.” He moved toward the front door, his right arm at his side, the palm filling with a ball of roiling magic.

Do not forget that it is because of our forbearance that you are not a hunted rogue now.

“Don’t forget you’d still be chasing down Powell and likely losing Hunters if not for me. This is a symbiotic relationship, not a gift.”

Let us see how long it takes for you to vanquish Barnes, They said snidely.

“Yeah,” he agreed, reaching for the handle of his front door. “Let’s see.”

He wrenched it open and drew his arm back.

“Whoa!” Gabriel lifted both hands in surrender. “Kick back, killer.”

Max’s gaze narrowed, assessing the man he would always view as a rival. Gabriel Masters grinned, his hazel eyes lit with amusement. The dark-haired warlock was upper level, but not quite up to Max’s skill. Still, he carried enough power to have been selected as Victoria’s warlock . . . before Max had taken her as his own. “What are you doing here, Masters?”

They weren’t friends, never had been. With both of them out on a hunt more often than not, they’d rarely had the chance to cross paths.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Masters asked.

Max stepped back and gestured the other man inside. Across the room, he conjured folding screens to hide the bed where his kitten slept. Still, the scent of her pheromones was heavy in the air, and Masters wasn’t immune. The warlock shifted on his feet, his shoulders rolling back.

“Mine,” Max warned in a low rumble.

“She’s the reason I’m here.” Masters faced him. “Word’s spreading fast about the vanquishing today. Jezebel says you took Powell out with a single hit.”

“So?”

“So everyone knows your Familiar helped you. I’m not the only Hunter thinking about taking on a Familiar now.”

“It has its benefits,” he conceded. “But Familiars are a helluva lot of work. If it were anyone but Victoria, I wouldn’t think it’d be worth the effort.”

“Yeah, I can smell how much work is involved.” Masters’s smile faded. “Some are asking if you’re powerful enough now to challenge the High Council.”

A chill ran down Max’s spine. The Council wouldn’t like that. They took all threats very, very seriously. If they viewed him as one, they’d take steps. And Victoria’s augmentation was what gave him an advantage.

“I wouldn’t go to the trouble if I could,” he drawled, careful to hide his disquiet. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

“You do. Maybe others don’t.”

Max crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Don’t bring revolution into my house.”

Masters’s lips curved wryly. “Why not? You brought it into magickind to begin with.”

Eight

Victoria’s stomach knotted at the news Gabriel Masters passed on to Max. She feigned sleep, as she rarely slept deeply while napping, and decided she wouldn’t let on that she knew unless he told her directly.

She wondered if he’d anticipated this, if he’d kept her from hunting with him to avoid just this sort of thing. He wouldn’t want to upset her, even if explaining kept them from fighting about his decision to exclude her.

Max showed Gabriel out and then padded over to the bed. She heard him, smelled him, felt soothed by his presence the closer he came to her. The bed dipped as he sat beside her. His hand stroked down her side.

“Kitten,” he said quietly, bending toward her and pressing his lips to her shoulder. “I have to go.”

When he straightened, she rolled to her back and looked up at him. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep? Or will you be home soon?”

“The sooner this hunt is over with, the better.” His gray eyes softened as they looked down at her. “Then we’ll go away for a while. Someplace tropical, maybe, where you’ll be naked all day. Or snowbound, where I could spread you out in front of a fireplace.”

She caught the hand he had resting on her hip and squeezed it. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Do you want to stay here? Or should I take you back to the apartment?”

“Home.” She sighed. “I have work to do. It was insane at the hotel today.”

“Can you work from home the next few days?”

“Sure.” She hated working away from the office, but she wasn’t going to bitch. Max had enough on his mind.

“Let’s get cleaned up, then,” he murmured, a soft smile on his lips.

Thirty minutes later, Victoria felt a semblance of equanimity. Max had washed her from head to toe, his dexterous fingers kneading her scalp and every muscle. He was so good to her. So good for her.

He dressed her in a simple set of pajamas, choosing to secure each button himself rather than with magic. “There.”

“Here.” She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed his jaw. “And I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

A rough sound escaped him and he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. He held her for a moment, then they were home. The abrupt introduction of sax music jolted her. But the bigger shock came from the naked blonde in a leather collar who was strolling into the living room by way of the bedroom hallway.

“Max,” Jezebel purred, stretching as if just waking. “I thought you were kidding about bringing your kitten home to play with us.”

Victoria’s gaze was riveted to the MAX engraved in the black leather circling the witch’s neck and to the marks on her breasts that were perfectly laid out and aligned in Max’s recognizable pattern.

“Jezebel,” Max growled. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“You, darling.” She smiled and cupped her breasts, offering them up. “Any way you want.”

Vicious magic surged within Victoria, thick and black and hot. It roiled and singed her hands, itching to be freed. “Bitch,” she hissed, “you’d better vanish real quick.”

“I told you, darling,” Jezebel said, licking her lips as she tugged on her own nipples. “Familiars don’t play well with others.”

Max stalked toward her and Victoria lost it, unable to let him put his hands on another woman. Especially a naked woman wearing a collar with her man’s name on it.

Her hands thrust forward before she thought about it, magic shooting from her fingertips in arcs of green lightning. The hit lifted Jezebel from her feet and sent her flying backward down the hall.

“For fuck’s sake!” Max’s head whipped toward Victoria, revealing a thunderous scowl. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Obviously you did when you brought that trash into my house!” she shot back, her hands fisting against the urge to strike out again.

A Mack truck slammed into her chest. At least that’s what it felt like. She was tossed onto her back and sent skidding into the sofa. Victoria screamed, her chest smarting and pajama top smoking from the direct hit.

“Stop!” Max roared, stepping into the middle of the hallway as a barrier.

Jezebel pounced and leaped over him, spinning midair to land on her feet, her hair flowing around her like a cape. Victoria was even more nimble, her catlike reflexes kicking in with a vengeance. Max lunged, his arms wrapping around the witch from the back, and poof. They were gone.

Unreasonable fury coursed through Victoria along with a rush of magic the likes of which she’d never felt before. She trusted Max, believed in him, was sane enough to know he couldn’t come at her the way he had all evening if he’d gotten off earlier with someone else.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t spitting mad that he’d brought his ex into their house, an ex who was bat-shit crazy and hurting for an ass kicking.

“Max!” she yelled. But he was gone.

Seething, she powered off the stereo and stalked through the house, searching for any trace of Jezebel. The rage grew when she found her and Max’s bed mussed and smelling like the witch’s perfume. It smelled like something else, too. Something smoky and slightly acrid. She tore off the sheets, shredding them with claws she hadn’t realized had extended.

She was running through all the things she had to say to Max when he returned, growing angrier with every minute that passed, when the wards around the apartment jingled with warning.

“You want more, witch?” she muttered, dropping the sheets and heading toward the door. Her palms started itching again, reminding her of the shot she’d taken before. Her magic had never manifested as lightning arcs of power previously. She needed Max to help her understand that. And a clearer head.

Gods, how much had this hunt affected them?

She reached the front door and realized the threat was behind her. The hairs on her nape stood on end and she pivoted, shifting to her feline form to make less of a target. The windows crackled with the energy surging from outside, and she shook off the clothes that were puddled around her paws and raced to one, leaping onto a console table to get a better look.

Eyes darting, she searched the skyline, seeing nothing to combat but feeling the pull of magic. It pierced her chest where the wound still throbbed, forcing a shift into a human form against her will. She fell from the console, back arching, magic flaring in a surge of power that shattered the windows.

A black cloud poured through the breach and solidified beside her as a man. Copper-haired, with eyes so dark they appeared black, he radiated a dark power that sent goose bumps racing across her bare flesh.

He knelt beside her and she found she couldn’t move, could barely breathe. The place on her chest where Jezebel had struck her with magic burned as if she’d been hit with acid. It ate through her in agonizing darts, spreading throughout her body.

He smiled. “Relax. It won’t last long.”

The pain hit her heart and she cried out, her muscles seizing. Then she mercifully lost consciousness.

The moment Max materialized in Jezebel’s home, he shoved her away from him, his palms burning from the touch of her skin. She was feverishly hot, her eyes wild. The deep gash by her shoulder from Victoria’s strike didn’t seem to register at all. And the curve of her lips was so crazed it gave him chills.

He waved a hand to clothe her in a robe.

“Max.” She shook her head. “You didn’t used to be this uptight. Clearly your Familiar isn’t keeping you happy.”

“You don’t want to make an enemy out of me, Jezebel,” he warned. “I suggest you think of me as a fond memory and stay the hell away.”

“But we’re drawn to each other! I know you feel it, too.” She stepped closer, her hand extended as if to touch him.

And he did feel it. Enough to take a sharply indrawn breath. The call of like to like was strong, but it wasn’t sexual. It was magical.

He met her halfway and yanked aside the material covering her wound. The motion bared her breast and made her gasp with excitement, but his attention was solely on the gash in her flesh that didn’t bleed and was dark not because it was cauterized but because her blood was tainted.

“When did he get to you?” he demanded. “What did he do to you?”

Her hands slid up his chest. “I’m more interested in what you’re going to do to me,” she crooned.

Catching her wandering hands, he bridged the distance to the High Council. He took her directly to the antechamber outside the receiving hall. The room was crowded, as usual, and his sudden appearance with the half-naked Jezebel brought conversation and movement grinding to a halt.

The crowd of warlocks and witches parted for him as he strode forward to the desk where requests for an audience were logged, his hand at Jezebel’s elbow driving her forward.

“She’s been compromised by Xander Barnes,” he said coldly. “She’ll need treatment and rehabilitation.”

He released her and moved to turn away.

“The Council will want to question you,” the clerk said quickly.

“I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t there.” Abruptly, Max recoiled, lurching back as white-hot agony pierced his chest like a blade. He felt a scream reverberate inside him and his blood ran cold.

“Victoria,” he breathed, panic tearing through him.

Distracted and caught off guard, he’d left her alone and unprotected. He surged forward, transferring in midstep. It was like swimming in honey, his magic siphoning away from him with every beat of his heart. He tumbled back into his living room endless moments later, landing on his hands and knees in a mess of broken glass, disoriented and dazed.

Black leather heeled boots appeared in his vision, drawing his eye upward along mile-long legs capped with tight black shorts and a leather bustier. Victoria set her hands on her hips, her red-stained lips curving in a humorless smile. The emerald of her kohl-rimmed eyes was as dark as her aura.

“Now this,” she purred, “is exactly how I want you.”

Nine

He’s taming you. And you’re letting him.

Victoria watched Max push to his feet in a powerfully graceful movement, his stormy eyes assessing her. She knew he was wondering how to get the upper hand, but she wasn’t open to playing those games anymore. She was more powerful than he was now and it was time he acknowledged it. The inequality in their relationship—if they were going to have one—had shifted in her favor.

You have magic of your own, but he doesn’t respect it.

“Victoria . . . ”

She saw blood on his hands from the shattered window glass. Absently, she healed the cuts with a spell she’d never used before but inexplicably knew by heart.

You’ve made him more powerful than ever and how does he repay you? By subjugating you and making you subservient.

Her hand whipped out and caught his tie, and a moment later they were back in his loft.

His chest lifted and fell on a deep breath. “What did he do to you, kitten?” he asked softly.

“I’m not in the mood to talk, Max,” she said, licking her lips at all the prospects his toy collection presented. If he really loved you, he’d let you both play. “I want to play.”

“Do you?” He caught her face in his hands, studying her. “You can fight it off, sweetheart. Let me help you.”

“You can help me now,” she said, parroting what he’d said to her earlier. Why should he get to have all the fun? “I’ve wanted you tied to a bed since the first night we met.”

“That’s not how things work, Victoria. Not between warlock and Familiar, and certainly not between us. This isn’t you talking.”

“But it is!” She wrenched away from him. You should listen to your instincts, Victoria St. John, they’re telling you what you already know. “You’ve been trying to change me since we met. You want me to be something I’m not!”

His jaw tightened. “We’ve been together almost two years. You don’t strike me as the type of woman to put up with a man that long if he wasn’t pleasing you.”

“That was before.” Remember who you were before Westin hunted you down. Remember the power you had. The High Council let Darius Whitacre die. Did you ever make them pay for that? Have you used Westin the way he’s used you?

“Before what?”

“Before I saw what you really want!” She turned her back to him. “Jezebel was a real eye-opener for me.”

Max could picture his kitten’s tail swishing restlessly. He didn’t have to picture the darkness of her aura; he could almost taste it in the air. “I want you.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, as sly as a cat. “You can have me . . . if you’re a good boy, Max.”

He changed tactics. “All right. Let’s catch up with Xander Barnes first. We deal with him, then we’ve got all the time in the world.”

Tossing her head back, she laughed and walked toward the wall displaying his selection of floggers and crops. “Now you want me to hunt with you? After I practically begged you?”

Max shoved a hand through his hair, frustrated by his own contribution to the disaster he faced. He’d left Victoria wide open magically, physically, and emotionally. Even when they’d first met, they’d never been this far apart. He couldn’t stand it.

He also couldn’t let it affect his judgment. Hunters who allowed emotion to overrule reason were doomed to failure and he couldn’t fail in this.

“I make mistakes, Victoria,” he conceded. “In this case, I underestimated how much I need your help. And I underestimated Powell.”

She walked to the chest of drawers where he kept the toys he put inside her. “Don’t blame our problems on your hunt.”

“I seem to have lost something in translation, then. Why don’t you remind me what happened today? What’s the last thing you remember before I came home?”

“I remember your mistress making herself at home in my house! Wearing a damned collar with your name on it!”

“And how did you get from that to where we are now?” With her dressed in an over-the-top dominatrix outfit he hadn’t known she owned. Then again, he hadn’t bothered researching how things had gone with her and the Hunters previously assigned to collar her.

But even jealousy couldn’t make his dick stop throbbing as he looked at her. Despite everything that had gone wrong—or maybe because of it and his desperate need to reconnect—he was achingly attracted to this new side of her.

She pulled a glass dildo out of a drawer and ran her fingers up and down the length of it. Then she lifted it to her lips and licked the tip. Max bit back a groan.

“I realized I should start out the way I mean to go on,” she said, looking at him from beneath spiked lashes. “Relationships go both ways, Max.”

“I’ve given you everything I’ve got.” He reached out with his magic and slammed into the wall of power radiating off her. She was siphoning from him by the moment, an irrefutable sign that she’d been tainted by black magic. “And I’ll keep giving it until I draw my last breath.”

“Everything except your submission.”

“I’m not a switch, kitten.”

Her foot tapped a rapid staccato against the cement. “Maybe I am. Does that mean we’re incompatible?”

“You didn’t think so an hour ago.”

She narrowed her gaze at him, then disappeared, winking away before his eyes.

“Victoria!” he shouted, his fists clenching.

It was diabolically clever what Barnes had done, taking away Max’s anchor while she was still breathing. Death would’ve been more merciful than losing her to black magic. And he couldn’t take her to the Council as he had Jezebel, not just because he was weakened to a dangerously low state, but because he feared they would vanquish her to mitigate any threat he might be perceived to be.

He racked his mind for options, trying to narrow down what spells Barnes might have used to turn Jezebel and Victoria.

“Blood magic,” he muttered, knowing how powerful it could be.

But only as long as Barnes was alive.

Is Westin really the right man for you? Or is there someone out there who would suit you better?

Victoria hit the clubs. Restless and driven by urges she couldn’t fight, she prowled the city searching for something she couldn’t put her finger on. It irritated her that she felt the need to return to Max. A driving, spurring need. She’d never felt so torn before, as if she was warring with herself.

“Looks like you’re in the mood to play, gorgeous.”

She turned her head toward the man speaking to her. He was tall and fit, sandy-haired and mischievous-eyed. Her gaze raked him from head to toe, as did her magic. He was human.

Her mouth curved, her thoughts turning to how much fun it would be to dominate such a strapping male. It had been far too long since she’d been allowed to take the reins.

“Are you in the mood to play?” she purred.

“Always. Can I buy you a drink?”

She shook her head, debating where to take him. Max’s place would be ideal, but she ruled it out. Her apartment was an option, especially since Max had seen fit to take his ex-mistress there. But an unwelcome and unwarranted stab of guilt held her back.

Damn it.

“Let’s go somewhere,” she said, deciding it was best to leave the decision to him. Maybe he had his own toys.

He grinned and thrust out his hand. “Steve. Feeling seriously lucky to have met you tonight.”

“Victoria.” Her fingers brushed over his palm, but his touch lacked the heat and magical connection she’d come to feel with Max. A sense of hollowness grew in her belly. The club’s music pounded out of the speakers, spurring customers to hook up. Couples and triples writhed against one another on the dance floor, flooding the air with the scent of arousal and pheromones, but she felt oddly disconnected.

“Come on, Vicky.” He caught her hand before it fell to her side and linked their fingers together. “I’ve got a room around the corner.”

Westin’s got you under his spell, Victoria. Whitacre never controlled you like that.

She frowned as she allowed Steve to lead her through the crush to the exit. Listening to her conscience had never been more difficult. And Steve’s use of the nickname “Vicky” only made things worse. Only Darius had ever called her that.

Max’s voice echoed in her mind. This isn’t you talking.

Her hand tightened on Steve’s. The warlock had twisted her mind . . . made her confused. She’d never been more conflicted.

“Do you live in the city?” Steve asked when they stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Yes.” She’d moved in after Darius died, closer to the central hub of magic in the country, so that she would have greater opportunities to provoke the Council.

“I like it here,” he went on, filling the void left by her short answer. “First-time trip for me. I’ll have to thank my boss for suggesting this conference.”

Forcing herself to focus on the man she was with, she said, “Maybe I’ll have to thank him, too.”

His eyes sparkled in the light of the streetlamps. “Do I have to ask if you’ll be gentle with me?”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.”

She smiled genuinely. “Good. I’m not sure I can be gentle tonight.”

A ripple of desire moved through his big body. His skin heated to her touch. “Having one of those nights, sweetheart?”

Her nostrils flared, filling her senses with the scent of his lust and excitement. “Yeah . . . you could say that.”

Ten

Max hit the streets. Barnes would be sticking close by, knowing Max was vulnerable now in a way he’d never been before. This hunt had turned into a game for Barnes, one he was willing to risk capture for. Vanquishing Max wasn’t going to stop the Council from coming after him; other Hunters would follow. It wouldn’t even buy the warlock time, because Max was fairly certain the Council had already widened the hunt. They probably didn’t trust him now, and Jezebel’s susceptibility would raise further alarm.

Coming after Max was sport for Barnes, a chance to get a little piece of his own back after the years of incarceration he’d suffered.

Victoria, where are you?

He ruthlessly suppressed the urge to find her. It would be pointless while she was under the fog of blood magic. Whatever programming Barnes had given her would be impossible to break through while the warlock was living.

But he couldn’t fight the fear for her. For them, as a couple, because there had been an opening for Barnes to exploit. All this time Max had believed it was simply a matter of acclimation that caused the resistance Victoria displayed occasionally. He’d assumed that at heart she was like all Familiars. But perhaps she was unique beyond the magic Darius had given her. Perhaps she truly needed to share control rather than give it up completely.

Could he be the man she needed if that were the case?

“Westin. You look so forlorn.”

Stiffening, Max slowed and looked for his quarry. A wry smile twisted his mouth at the thought. Really, he was the one being hunted. “It’s been a rough day.”

Barnes stepped out of the shadows. He looked harmless enough on the surface, like a thirty-year-old man out for a stroll, but dark power poured off him, buffeting Max with such fury it nearly sent him stumbling back a step. “That’s too bad. It’s been a great day for me.”

Max nodded. “You wanted Powell dead.”

“He would’ve become a liability eventually,” Barnes said with a shrug. He dressed better these days. When Max first caught him, he’d been a thug. Now he wore tailored slacks and shirt, with polished oxfords and tie. “And he was stupid enough to think he was smarter than me.”

“I underestimated you, too.”

Barnes liked that. He grinned. “I was hoping you’d be more of a challenge.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint.” Max tried to tap into Victoria, to tug at least a little of his magic back, but there was nothing on the other end of their connection. It was as if it’d been severed completely.

An old man walking his Chihuahua passed them, giving them a wide berth and suspicious eye. The dog began yipping at Barnes and tugging at its leash, baring its teeth at the warlock. Barnes crouched and smiled. The dog whined and pissed itself.

“Remy!” the old man scolded. “Bad dog. Come on.”

The warlock stood, laughing. “The world is full of pathetic creatures, isn’t it, Westin?”

“Scaring small dogs should be beneath you,” Max said, allowing the wand tucked into the sleeve of his shirt to slide out and into his palm. It was a child’s learning tool, one he hadn’t used in centuries, and only briefly then. Serving only to help focus magic in the training stage, it bore no power itself, but Max needed all the help he could get. He’d used the bulk of the magic he had left to reach out to the Transcendual Realm for help.

He wasn’t the only one who loved Victoria and would do anything to keep her safe.

“Nothing is beneath me. That’s why I’m as powerful as I am today.” Barnes scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Putting rules on magic is where the Council went wrong. Magic is alive, it breathes. Caging it is a crime.”

“You don’t give a shit about magic. It’s power you want. You’re drunk with it.”

“I don’t think you’d sound so disdainful if you still had yours,” Barnes goaded, his gaze hard.

“And I don’t think you’d sound so smug if you knew that the Council was about to hunt me Themselves, because They believe Victoria made me too powerful. If I were you, I would’ve considered that a better punishment than this. An eye for an eye. Instead, you’re doing Them a favor.”

Barnes didn’t like that. His smile faded. “You must have a death wish, Westin.”

“Maybe.” He played up his vulnerability. “I don’t want to live without Victoria and you’ve taken her away from me. So it’s either you or me, Barnes.”

“Well, I think we both know how that’s going to end.”

Max thrust out his hand, sending magic racing along the length of the wand to strike Barnes in the chest. The warlock stumbled back, spinning, but quickly righted himself and fired back.

The weight of the blow lifted Max off his feet and sent him flying several feet. Winded and in terrible pain, he curled in on himself, making as small a target as possible. The next blow of magic seized his heart and lungs, blackening his vision. His surroundings dimmed and roaring filled his ears. The next strike would kill him.

Victoria . . . His eyes squeezed shut as agony twisted his body. How would she survive losing two warlocks she loved? Be safe, kitten, he whispered to her. I love you.

“Here we are,” Steve said, stopping in front of an InterContinental hotel. Setting his hand at the small of Victoria’s back, he urged her through the revolving doors in front of him.

I didn’t leave you with Westin for this, Vicky.

She came to an abrupt halt and the door smacked into her from behind, shoving her forward. She stumbled into Steve.

Darius? she breathed, astonished to hear the beloved voice again.

You told me you loved him . . . that you wanted to be with him. If you’ve changed your mind, darling, I’ll bring you to me. Damned if I’ll leave you to someone else.

“Easy,” Steve said, taking the opportunity to run his hands down her back. “You all right?”

She shook her head. No, she was far from all right. A sick feeling of dread permeated her senses. She opened her mouth to tell him she’d changed her mind—

Pain sliced through her, causing her to arch her back and to press herself tight against Steve.

Be safe, kitten. I love you.

Terror filled her. Max!

For an instant she could see clearly, as if thick fog had momentarily blown aside, affording her a clear view.

Max was dying. And her heart was breaking.

Barnes screamed, a sound of fury and pain. Glass shattered nearby. Max felt magic coil tightly around them, then explode with resonating force. A woman cried out, a man cursed. Footsteps pounded by Max’s head.

Power surged into Max with the force of a tornado, shoving out the pain and kick-starting his organs. He pushed upright, catching sight of Masters crouched beside him and firing volleys so quickly Max couldn’t register them all. But Barnes was shielded by black magic, shrouded by undulating shadows that protected him from the relentless attack. Impressed and deeply grateful that the other Hunter had responded to the message Max left him, Max gathered the magic flowing through him and prepared to join the fray.

Victoria’s aura pulsed through him. Power cycled from her, a raging circle that gathered strength with every pass. It was dark and smoky, more black than white, and its potency was so fierce it felt as if his skin was burning in an effort to contain it. Wind swirled around him, only him, his hair whipping with its fury. Power swelled inside him.

He saw her. She stood behind Barnes, her eyes glowing in the night, her arms lifted and extended, waiting for Max to strike so she could augment his power. Her legs were widespread and anchored to the cement, her beautiful features as cold and determined as he’d ever seen them. Ready to kill.

Barnes fired at Max with such force the hit rattled his bones, but he stayed upright and unharmed, fortified by his fury. Victoria had come for him, but she wasn’t the same. He didn’t know if she ever would be now that she’d been so thoroughly tainted. He didn’t know if she had come back to him forever or just for now.

All he knew was that Barnes had to die.

Masters shouted as a hit knocked him back, rolling him end over end. Max fired. The ball of magic penetrated the shroud around Barnes and sent him back a shaky step . . . straight into an arc of lightning from Victoria that had him howling in angered pain. Pivoting, the warlock lurched toward her. Max moved, running forward and attacking. Masters appeared to his left, firing at the warlock’s flank. The triple blow was irrecoverable.

Barnes exploded in a burst of black light, rattling the buildings around them and exploding the streetlights. Inky darkness descended, blocking out all light.

Victoria screamed his name and Max shouted in reply. He lunged toward the sound of her voice, moving by instinct, grunting when her slender body collided with his.

He whisked them away, leaving everything behind.

Epilogue

Victoria stared out the massive windows at the endless miles of snow that stretched out before her. The house sat high atop a mountain in one of the remotest parts of the world, hidden from the view of human eyes and satellite monitoring.

A week had passed since the night she’d helped Max and Gabriel vanquish Xander Barnes. She’d had no contact with anyone, not even the warlock who shared the home with her. He was there, so close. So gorgeous. So silent. He waited like the crafty Hunter he was. Waited and watched, his silver eyes following nearly every move she made. At night, he slept in a different room. A different bed.

As the hours crawled by, she felt more and more like herself. Her craving for Max grew by the day until it became a gnawing hunger she had trouble resisting.

His tendency to walk around wearing nothing but low-slung pajama bottoms didn’t help.

But things were different now. She was different now. While the compulsion Barnes had programmed her with was gone, the taint of black magic remained and it freed a desire of a different sort. When she and Max made love, she lost herself in his touch . . . his hunger. At least once, she wanted to take him on her terms. To show him the depth of her love in some way other than through her submission.

But he wasn’t a switch and the ease they’d once felt together was gone, leaving behind a wariness that made it difficult for her to reach out to him.

At least in her human form.

Shifting, she dropped to the floor and extricated herself from the folds of her maxi dress. She searched for him, allowing her animal instincts to guide her. There had to be a way for them to find a comfortable middle ground. If they could just work it out together . . .

She padded down the hallway, passing her room and finding his empty. She hurried on, exploring, her curiosity piqued for the first time in several days. The house remained a mystery to her after she’d spent so long just trying to get her head on straight. She’d slept, ate when Max cooked, and lay on the sofa watching television without really paying attention. It was like waking up after a long nap, fighting the grogginess that came with rejoining reality.

Reaching the end of the hall, Victoria spotted a half-opened door. She slowed and sniffed, purring when she smelled the darkly seductive scent of her warlock’s skin. She pushed the door open with an uplifted paw, sitting as it swung silently open.

Max stood near the far wall, his back flexing as he reached up and placed a crop in its holder above the fireplace, his inky hair brushing his shoulder blades.

“Hello, kitten,” he said in that deep, rough voice she loved and had missed hearing.

He turned to face her and she drank him in, her gaze sliding over his powerful shoulders, firm pecs, and deeply ridged abdomen. Below the tie of his drawstring, his cock hung thick and heavy between his muscled thighs. Her purrs increased in volume. Her tail swished with anticipation.

A massive bed waited to the right, while the opposite wall displayed a vast collection of floggers, crops, and implements of bondage above the mantel. Two chests waited at the foot of the wide bed—one white, the other black. The white one had her name inscribed across the lid, while the other bore his. A Saint Andrew’s cross was affixed to the wall, near a bondage chair and swing suspended from one of the wide beams in the ceiling. Light poured in from skylights above, as well as the wall of curtainless windows behind the bed.

She shifted. His breath caught at her nakedness and relief shimmered through her. He still wanted her.

“Max,” she said, her voice husky with want.

He crossed his arms, teasing her with the sight of chiseled biceps. He was so strong, and yet even in the extremes of his lust, he never hurt her.

Still, he waited.

She swallowed hard. “Are we rogue?”

“We’re as good as dead. If we lay low, I doubt they’ll hunt us. But you’d have to give up everything. Everything you own. Everything you’ve worked for.”

“Do I have to give you up?”

His throat worked, the only sign that he wasn’t as calm as he appeared. “I hope you don’t. I hope you’ll give me a chance to . . . adjust.”

Victoria stepped closer. “You’d do that for me?”

His gaze heated, grew tender. “I would do anything for you.”

“My needs are different from yours, Max,” she explained gently. “I want you bound sometimes. I want to pleasure you without losing my head over what you’re doing to me. I want your surrender, but I don’t want you submissive.”

His chest expanded on a deep, slow breath. “It’s hard for me, Victoria, needing you this much. Loving you is both the easiest and hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“You think I’m not scared? Especially now.” She looked out the windows at the ceaseless stretch of white. “Being a Hunter isn’t just what you do, it’s who you are. I’m not sure I can be what you need when I’m the only thing you’ve got. If that makes any sense at all.”

“Kitten, life with you will never be boring.” Max came to her and wrapped his big hands around her throat, like the collar she wore. “Aside from the games we’ll play in this room, we’ve got a lot to figure out magically. Masters was right. You and me, we’re a unique pairing, and we’ve never really explored that, let alone exploited it. Who knows what we’re capable of?”

“We’re more gray than white now,” she said, gripping his wrists. “And when I’m topping you and you’re coming for me, the magic might—”

“I always come for you, regardless of who’s on top.”

He pressed his mouth to hers and she relaxed, pushing her worries out of her mind. They had this. They had each other. The rest would work itself out.

She kissed him back, her lips curving with love into a catlike smile.