The Archer (The Blood Realm Series Book 3)(129)

Marian was glowering at him, but there was no red spark in her green eyes to suggest true anger. She crossed her arms underneath her breasts, pushing them up. Robin’s bow sagged in his arms, his attention completely focused on the way her smooth brown nipples hardened in the night air.

“Robin!”

Her shout startled him so badly he nearly fell off the rock. He blinked, regaining his bearings, forcing himself to concentrate on the trees around him instead of his wife’s alluring form. Instead of following her shot, he took the time to search the forest edging the meadow, looking for a combination of the trees he needed in the right order. He found what he wanted a little northeast of where Marian had fired and quickly lined up his shot.

“There are stories of female archers who actually cut off their breast to avoid letting it interfere with their shot.”

She spoke just as he was releasing his arrow, firing a macabre image into his brain as surely as if it had been a feathered projectile. The shot went wide, sailing into a cypress and sinking into the trunk with a depressing thud.

He pressed his lips together and glanced at his wife. “You did that on purpose.”

Marian shrugged, the rise and fall of her breasts calling to his eyes. “Maybe.”

Robin dove for her. He didn’t think about it, didn’t plan it, didn’t give himself even a second to strategize about where to hit her, what angle would be best. She knew him too well, would expect it, so speed was all he had.

And a hellhound was pretty damn fast.

She was twisting before he hit her, but his height gave him the edge he needed. His fingers closed around her ankle and, as she tried to spring away from him, he tightened his grip and jerked her against him while he was still in midair, his body arcing in a leap from the broad rock to the grassy meadow below.

A laugh bubbled from her throat as he managed to get another arm around her legs and he couldn’t help the grin that spread over his lips. She had the most amazing laugh. It was a sound he’d never thought to hear from her, and he treasured each one for the gift it was. His huntress was happy, and he knew he’d played a part in that.

His back hit the ground first. He was still holding her legs and he struggled to find a balance between not hurting her, and not loosening his grip enough for her to slip away. She caught herself on her hands, tried to use them for leverage to crawl away from him, but her pants gave him something to hold onto, and he pulled her down hand over hand.

As her breasts passed over his face, he leaned up, licked one brown nipple. The skin responded instantly, hardening to a tight bud. Marian gasped, then softened against him, spreading her fingers over the sides of his face as he continued to slide her down his body. He let his eyes drift closed as she smoothed his hair behind his ears. They’d been married for six months, but her touch was still new, still exciting. Her lips slid over his and he parted them, inviting her to deepen the kiss.

She tasted of heat. It was hard to describe, like tasting a color, a deep, crimson red that burned you just to look at it. Not cinnamon, but something hotter, something that bit him, promised an edge of pain to the pleasure it offered. He chased that flavor, his mind reeling, the world spinning, narrowing, until there was nothing but him and Marian, nothing but the maddening slide of her naked breasts against his shirt, a reminder of the wretched piece of clothing that still separated them.

He needed to feel skin against skin, and by all that was holy, how had they ended up wearing opposing articles of clothing so that each was only half bare and those bare halves didn’t line up? It was poor planning, that’s what it was, and there was no excuse for it.#p#分页标题#e#

As soon as his fingers closed around the edges of his shirt, ready to rip it off and damn the buttons, he realized his mistake. Cool air bathed his face in a rude awakening as Marian bolted, pushing off against his chest with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. She laughed again as she ran and Robin sat up just in time to see the flash of her red hair before she vanished into the trees. Adrenaline flooded his veins in a scalding rush, his muscles hurling him off the ground and into a run.

The hunt was on.

He left their bows and arrows lying on the ground where they’d dropped them. Few in this forest wouldn’t know who they belonged to, and if anyone were so foolish as to try to take them, well, that would just give him a fun outing to take Marian on tomorrow night. Taking them with him would be pointless since he didn’t intend to shoot his wife—and he certainly wanted his hands free when he caught her.

His hands tingled, already imagining the weight of her breasts, the slide of her nipples against his palms. Half a year she’d been in his bed, and yet every night felt like the first time.