Page 47 of Hunter

My hands take hold of the silver clasp, pulling the black leather. The belt slips from the loops with ease, and I place it on the small bench beside me to use later. The jacket glides down her shoulders and drops to the floor while Bella watches me silently. I kiss her softly, then continue on my mission.

My attention returns to her jeans. I pop the button, unzip, then push them down her legs. She lifts one foot at a time, and I wrestle the surprisingly stretchy material over the high heeled boots she wears. Finally, my attention moves to the small black lace thong, that gains the same treatment as the jeans. She’s left standing in front of me in only her sweater and heels, and she looks fucking edible.

Above her head is a large metal hook. I reach up past her, pulling on it to ensure its secure. “Perfect,” I murmur, lifting the belt from its resting place. “Give me your wrists.” She holds them out without argument, and I bind them with the leather before looping the remainder over the hook. I take a step back to admire my handiwork. “You look fucking delicious. Now spread those pretty legs, wife.” She shuffles her feet apart, opening the access to her pussy enticingly.

“Sir,” Ronan’s voice calls, along with a knock on the door. Isabella tenses immediately with the interruption. “Sir, is everything alright?” My focus moves from Bella to the door and back again.

“Yes, Ronan, we’re fine.”

Isabella’s eyes widen in horror at us being caught in the intimate moment. I place a finger over my lips for her to stay silent. She pulls a little on the restraints but can’t free herself. I reward her efforts with a grin, and she sticks out her tongue.

“Is there anything I can…”

Before the moron keeps talking, I decide to cut him off with the truth. Sometimes he oversteps his position, and he needs to be reminded of when to keep his nose out.

“Unless you plan to impregnate my wife, no. Go wait for us in the car.”

“Hunter,” Isabella shrieks, her face and neck turning bright red. “You did not just say that.”

With a chuckle, I take two steps toward her, settling myself millimeters away, close enough we sense one another but not enough to touch.

“I did, and I would say it again. I want you pregnant, and it’s going to happen now.”

“That’s not how making babies works,” she says with a giggle. “It has to be the right time of the month. This is one thing you don’t get to decide.”

This time when I move toward her, our bodies connect. My hand moves between her legs, my finger finding her clit. She flinches a little as I press the sweet spot. I run my finger lower to her entrance, pushing inside. She’s already wet, and my finger slides easily past her lips.

“Wet already, wife. That’s a good girl.”

She whimpers under my touch as I pump, her knees bending a fraction as she pushes against my hand. My fingertip returns to her clit. I massage in circles, soft but firm, commanding her body to come to life. She groans again, this time louder, and I place my lips on hers to muffle the noise.

“Can you be quiet, Bella? Or do you want an audience?”

“No,” she pants.

“No, you can’t be quiet?”

“I can be quiet. I don’t want an audience,” she says, breathing deep like she’s trying to catch her breath.

“Good girl. Now, show me how much you want my cock.”

I slide two fingers inside this time, her pussy sucking me in beautifully. As I pump, the sound of her body readying herself for mine gets louder. All the delicious wetness of her, coating the way for my dick. My free hand lifts to her face, I cup her cheek, then wrap a stray curl around my fingers and pull a little so her head tilts, exposing her neck.

My teeth nip the smooth flesh, biting and sucking as I work from her ear down to her collarbone. She moans again, and I tighten my grip on her hair in warning to stay silent. Her knees give way more, and her body weight falls onto my hand. I keep my fingers deep inside, curling the tips to hit her g-spot. Knowing she’s close, I press my thumb on her clit again. This time, the noise from her lips is almost a scream, but I keep working, not fucking caring who hears us. We are too far gone now to care. She’s getting fucked, and she knows it.

“Come on pretty girl, let go. I’m not fucking you until your own juices are running down your legs.” I add another finger, her body expanding to accommodate the size. Her clit swells beneath my thumb. She’s at the point of almost letting go, I can feel it. Her legs move to close, and I know her orgasm is near; I fucking love it. My wife will give me what I want here and now, like the good girl she is.

***

Isabella

My hands strain against the bindings as my legs give way, the now familiar sensation of an orgasm building between my legs. Hunter’s fingers have me stretched wide, my pussy searching for a release that will only come when I give him what he wants.

“I’m going to…” I stammer, caught between his grip on my hair and the buzz.

“Well, do it,” he growls, his lips now at my ear. He has me pinned against the wall with nowhere to run to. There’s no escape until I orgasm. “I want to watch your juices flow before I fuck you.”

His thumb presses on my clit again, my body convulsing with nowhere to go. Legs spread and trapped, I do the only thing I can. Come. My pussy clenches hard around his fingers, and he doesn’t give me any room. Then I feel it, all running free. He withdraws, then drops to his knees. His tongue laps at my pussy before moving to my thighs and mopping up the rewards running down my legs. His hands grip my ass as he pulls me toward his mouth. When satisfied, he stands back up.

---