Page 46 of Hunted to Be Mine
I twisted my hips, chasing friction. He held me still with his weight and a knee slid between mine, widening me until I couldn’t speak. I dragged in air that didn’t help.
“I know what I want,” I ground out, throat raw. “And I want it now.”
He studied my face carefully, measured my breaking control, the way need had stripped my composure. His mouth hovered near mine and didn’t touch.
“Ask,” he ordered, quiet authority in his voice. “And I’ll decide how you get it.”
“Please.”
It scraped coming out. He watched it happen.
“Please, what?”
“Make me come.” My wrists pulled in his grip. “Then fuck me.”
His mouth curved. The bandaged hand slid from my wrists to my throat again, not choking, only measuring. He pressed two fingers over my pulse, eyes on mine.
“Keep me here.”
“Stay,” I whispered. “With me.”
He lowered, shoulders pinning my thighs wide again. His gaze held until my breathing steadied under his fingers. Then he dropped, tongue dragging through me. He didn’t rush. He licked me in slow lines that had my calves tightening, my hips lifting despite his weight. He sealed his mouth over my clit and sucked once, deep, and I made a sound I’d never made.
“Good,” he murmured against me. “That’s it.”
Two fingers slid in, slow, knuckles pressing, the stretch burning good. He curled, found what made my breath catch, and stroked carefully. My back arched. His good hand held my thighs open. The bandage at my throat tracked my ragged breathing, pressing when I got too close, easing when I lost it.
“Eyes on me.” He lifted his head so I could see his mouth, wet, his jaw tight. “Don’t look away.”
I locked on. He sucked my clit and pumped his fingers in a rhythm that emptied my head. I felt everything build in tight circles, drawing inward, hot. He knew the second I tipped, his grip at my pulse went firm, pinning me, and he murmured low into me.
“Selina.”
I shattered. It hit hard enough I choked on air, thighs clamping on his head, everything tightening around his fingers while he kept licking, kept working me through it. Pleasure rolled through me until I had no sound left.
He eased me down gently. Lips pressed to the inside of my thigh, one kiss, no words. Then he pushed up, chest heaving, and wiped his mouth with his wrist.
He stared. It was filthy and I burned again.
“Condom,” I managed. My voice was raw.
He reached to the nightstand smoothly, and slid open the drawer. He tore the foil with his teeth, watching my face the whole time, making me watch. The rubber rolled down over him, his hand firm at the base, and my mouth went dry watching his thick cock. A bead at the crown vanished under latex.
I reached down and wrapped my fingers around him. He swore, chest jerking against my hand. He was hot under the condom, solid, the jolt of heat punching need through my gut again.
“How deep?” His voice was rough.
“All the way.” I lifted my hips and dragged the head along me, coating him, catching my clit on the ridge. The tease made us both curse.
He knocked my hand away and lined up, the head pressing at my entrance. He waited, face above mine, focus razor-sharp.
“Look at me.”
“I am.”
“Stay.”
He pushed in slowly, his eyes on mine. The stretch burned, my body taking him, breath breaking. He didn’t stop until he was in deep, hips against mine. His thick cock filled me almost to the point of pain that twisted into something that made my nails bite his shoulders again.
