Kat valentine ( Katsbookcornerreads)’s Reviews > Hell Hath No Fury > Status Update

I never anticipated my saving grace would come in the form of two unlikely men in completely different parts of the world. But in both Thailand and Israel, I discovered I was made of tougher stuff. The training I underwent fueled my rage, my pain, and my mission. It enabled me to be reborn. When Caitlin Ashford ceased to exist.

I lower my head and trail my tongue along her folds. Body arching, she fists the sheets when I drive my tongue deep inside her while I thumb her clit in circles. The taste of her on my tongue sends a surge of arousal shooting straight to my cock. Her hips move ever so slightly, as though she’s restraining herself from letting go and working herself over my tongue. When I draw back, a needy whimper falls from her lips

He slowly slides my jeans low on my hips, dipping his hand inside my panties to delve between my legs. The entire time, his gaze never veers from mine. When he drags a finger through my folds, gathering the slickness there, he watches me while he nudges a blunt finger inside. The sound of my gasp has his nostrils flaring while his other hand flexes its hold on my hip. “You okay with this?” He grits out

But with every day that passes, with every attack I pose on the Dixie Mafia, my pathetic excuse of a life comes closer to ending. At this moment, though, I’m held captive by the onslaught of yearning for the touch of a man who makes me feel safe. Wanted. A man who might be able to ease the sorrow that’s carved itself so deep in every fiber of my being.

Gradually, I slow my pace until I draw to a stop, still a few yards away from him. “Past your bedtime, isn’t it?” I try to keep my voice low, hushed. He screws up his face like he’s smelled something rotten, eyeing me in my head-to-toe black gear, my hood pulled over my head. “What, are you the grim reaper of bedtime or something?” I huff out a breath. The grim reaper part is pretty damn close. “Or something.”

Eyeing me hard, he continues. “Look, I’m not saying I tolerate vigilantes on the streets, but that woman lost everything. She never got justice for her family.” After a beat of silence, voice subdued, his expression appears both resigned and worried. “But if it’s really her, I don’t think she’ll be finished until everyone’s dead.”

Over the years, I’ve become cauterized from within. I have no emotional state aside from anger when someone pisses me off or tries to kill me. Anything more is inconsequential. Unnecessary. When I kill, I don’t feel anything. No remorse. No dread. No guilt. Nothing. They call me The Hunter because it’s what I do best. I can find anyone, regardless of how hidden they may be. I find out what makes them tick

“Ah, that’s right.” Never taking my eyes off him, I approach where he sits. “You pretend to mentor young girls.” Each step I take is precise as I stalk my prey, waiting for the perfect time to strike. “You praise them. Win their trust.” Drawing to a stop in front of his chair, I lightly trace the arrowhead point along the side of his face. “Then you ask them to have a drink with you. You drug them, and then you rape

He whimpers like the spineless fuck he is. “I have to say, Your Honor…” I let out a sad-sounding sigh. “I’m disappointed you don’t remember me. After all, you even visited me once. At my home.” I pause, and when he remains quiet, I tsk. “You don’t recall the time you were there when I was threatened and physically assaulted in my living room?

“Caitlin.” My name emerges from his lips softly, yet it sounds so ragged and desperate, I rear back in surprise. “You need to get out of here while you can. This won’t end well.” Worry bleeds into his expression. “My two buddies at the Marshals office have their hands tied. Can’t get evidence that’ll stick to the Dixie Mafia.” His gaze is pleading, and fear courses through me at the sight of it. “It’s not safe