Peyton's Ride (Riding With The Hunt, #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

alive and half paralyzed.”
    “So I don’t feel pain because the poison is shutting my body down?” Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she found she could not open them. Both legs went weak, and she dipped in his embrace.
    “Yes. I’m sorry Peyton. But I want you to live.” He hauled her up tighter to him and cradled the back of her head in his hand. “I hope you forgive me.”
    Tight bands of steel wrapped her chest, and she fought to gain a breath. The soft, sensuous glide of a tongue inserted between her lips, and coaxed her into a response. He plunged deeper and bit her mouth. The crest of a wave broke open in her, and the sensations she’d experienced before when he’d changed shapes from horse to man centered in her being.
    She clenched his hair in her hands and managed a deeper breath. Icy cold and wild, his scent permeated her nostrils and flowed into her lungs. The throb of his erection ground into her abdomen.
    Her clit pulsed, and wetness slicked her pussy as urgent need overtook her. Never had she felt this kind of sexual craving. It burned and soothed, claimed common sense and destroyed it on fires of passion. A whimper tore from her throat, and she went limp.
    “Figures...” Of course she’d finally get the guy naked, right before she passed out and was half dead. She was a total failure at cougar-ing.

Chapter Four
    H e moved back and buried any sense of guilt or self-recrimination, taking stock of her injuries. She may hate him later for his actions, but nothing was as important as keeping her alive. A soul-deep sense of loss and panic embedded itself in him when he recognized the signs she was succumbing to the torsca troll’s venom. The torscas consumed other fae when they could; their toxin specialized for the physiology of their own kind.
    Peyton was a lost Fae, and despite the knowledge that he’d be saving her to watch her go to the arms of another man, he couldn’t let her die. When she recovered from her injuries... He grit his teeth. She may hate him for the rest of her existence. He had to wrench her remaining humanity away. A convulsion damn near tore him apart as he forced the magic of the rut aside.
    His magic wrestled for control, the urge to bury his cock in her and fuck her...to own her...to leave his scent on her...in her...
    “Daegus,” he screamed, agonized. His friends had stayed behind when he shifted and stormed into the show room, wise to stay out of his way. He’d have killed them. If ever he’d needed the Child of the Hunt, he needed him now.
    Shadows and fog crawled along the floor and up the walls to combine, thickening until Daegus appeared, a creature formed of nothing but the energy of the Hunt. He clapped his hands once and a ram’s horn materialized. The vessel gleamed with a low shine formed from centuries of handling.
    “You have to help her. Take care of her.” He sank to his knees, her torso limp, arms trailing to the floor. Blood tinted black with poison dripped from her wounds.
    Daegus knelt, the horn in his left hand. Smoke twined around her, threads slid up her nose and into her mouth. Blood pumped from her wounds, almost all poison at first. “Ian, it is your job to care for her, not mine.” He offered the horn. “Drink, and awaken her.”
    She lay unresponsive, the rise of her chest all but imperceptible. The rut pitched and heaved, hooking his guts, but he shut it away, accepting the horn cup.
    He used his thumb to push her chin down and open her mouth, positioning the cup next to her cheek.
    “No, I told you, you must drink.” Daegus shook his head. “A kiss, Ian.”
    “I don’t know that I can control the rut, Daegus. If I kiss her...” Despair churned his guts. “Why didn’t I know about her sooner? I could have protected her.”
    “I am but a product of the magic, not the source. This is the path before you.” The dark grey and black streamers of magic fog snapped back from her to rejoin with Daegus.
    Golden liquid sloshed within