Wicked Truths (Hunt Legacy Duology 2)
‘Jesus Christ,’ I breathe, beginning to sweat. I’m literally suspended between the wall and the huge piece of furniture, like a jumping jack floating in mid-air. I’m going to have to catapult myself onto the wall and hope for the best. If I can just bend enough and hold my position to move under the beam, I can use the dresser as a launch pad to spring to safety. ‘If you could see me now, Dad,’ I mutter to the heavens, shifting a little to root my feet into position firmly. I start bowing back, arching my spine slowly and deliberately inch by inch and circling to the side, trying to give the beam a wide berth. My teeth clench as my spine curls, vertebrae by vertebrae, folding slowly until my torso is at a right angle to my lower body and I can see behind me. I begin to shake, the strain getting too much to bear. ‘Come on,’ I encourage myself, feeling like my spine could snap at any moment.
The blue glowing line comes into my view. I start inching to the right, passing beneath it. I swear, if I were to stick my tongue out, I could lick the light. It’s literally skimming my nose. ‘Fucking hell.’ I have to stop a second to reposition my hand on the wood when it slips a little. ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ I curse, my limbs starting to vibrate with the strength it’s taking me to unbend myself. It hurts terribly, but I battle through the pain, my muscles burning. And when my foot begins to slip as well, I have no option but to propel myself and hope for the best.
I close my eyes as I take off, my foot and hand leaving the dresser and following the path of my torso, under the beam. I hear Becker gasp, and then I feel the impact. I slam into the wall and quickly open my eyes, finding the holes in the brickwork and grabbing on. ‘Oh my God,’ I breathe, looking down to the floor, just to make sure that I’m where I’m supposed to be while listening carefully for any accusing beeps. Nothing.
The most incredible sense of achievement bombards me. I check the beams below me and clear them, jumping down from the wall. The ground beneath my feet feels so good. I land with my back to Becker, smiling victoriously across the hall. Then I slowly turn to find him, unable to disguise my elation or stop myself from having a thorough inspection of his naked body as I calm my breathing down. I take my time, working my way up his physique, noticing he’s perspiring himself, a film of shimmering sweat coating his chest. I pass his pecs, the scruff at his neck, his throat, his chin, and finally make it to his face. The happiness shining back at me through his hazel green eyes eliminates every ache and pain. My muscles stop screaming with overstretching and start screaming with longing.
His smiling eyes are joined by lips that stretch the widest I’ve ever seen. ‘That,’ he says sharply, grabbing my hips and pulling me into him. Our naked chests collide, the heat of our bodies mingling deliciously, ‘was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life.’ He spins me around so my back slams into his chest, and I cry out, feeling his erection pushing into my bottom and his palms covering my breast, squeezing deliberately. My breathing goes to shit again, and I very nearly stop when he rests his lips on the nape of my neck. I’m hypersensitive to everything. I don’t know whether it’s adrenalin or what, but every touch feels like pure fire.
‘I’ve just fallen in love with you some more,’ he whispers, sucking on my flesh. ‘Fuck me, Eleanor, you have no idea how incredible your body looked moving through my maze.’ He pushes me forward, and I close my eyes, waiting for it as he yanks my knickers out of the way. I triggered the alarm once.
Smack!
I’m spun back on a yelp and hauled up to his body. ‘How do you want me, princess? The hard fucker, or the masterful love-maker?’
My legs wrap around his naked hips and cling on tightly, my palms resting on his skin. ‘You’re a master at both.’
‘I have more experience in one than the other.’ He raises a sardonic eyebrow that goes way over my head. He might have more experience being a cold, emotionless fucker, but his newfound tenderness is pretty masterful, too.
Reaching for my hair tie, he pulls it free and my red locks tumble down my back. ‘I need something to grip onto.’
I ignore his cheek and slide my hands into his mussed-up locks. ‘Touché,’ I quip, giving it a severe tug.
He winces on a grin before lunging forward with his mouth, crashing his lips to mine and returning my brutality. His fingers delve into my hair and fist it. I’m instantly in the game, matching the severity of his hold and kiss, plunging my tongue deep and firmly.