Page 86 of Haunting the Hunter
“So, I’m just supposed to trust you?” I say, ignoring his warning—blood spilling from my mouth.
“Something like that.”
Another hit. The chair topples and my skull cracks against the floor, my shoulder taking the brunt, bone grinding against concrete. Pain bursts hot down my spine. He bends down on one knee and speaks to me softly.
“This is necessary, sadly. Boss’s orders. She wants me to rough you up a bit—but I imagine you can take it.” He smiles at me like we’re buddies. “You see, she needs information that you have. And I need to know you aren’t going to talk.”
I choke out a laugh. “F… fuck you.” It barely comes out as words—mostly just air and blood. I taste copper as my head rings.
“Perfect.” He claps me on the shoulder and I groan. “Let’s hope you can keep that attitude.”
He lifts the chair, sitting me back up. I watch as he pulls out a pair of brass knuckles. My thoughts lag. My body is slow to respond to the ringing pain. I feel like I’m underwater—maybe I’m already dying.
“You need to be ready—this is nothing compared to what she has planned.” He says it like he’s doing me a favor, but then he swings again, brass knuckles connecting with my temple. The world doesn’t spin. It just… cuts out completely.
I’m falling again, but it’s not cold this time. It’s warm. Soft. Like sinking into silk and static—like my body no longer matters.
I’m in my bed. I think?
Moonlight spills through the curtains, but it feels too bright, too quiet. Like everything has been muffled.
My skin twitches, anticipating another blow. But it’s warm. Gentle. No, not pain.
There’s heat on me—wet and slow. Lips wrapping around my cock. A breath shudders from me.
My brain can’t catch up. It’s too much, too sudden.
Hands roam my stomach. I flinch under their touch—my nerves raw, confused, like it shouldn’t feel this good.
But it does.
Fuck,it does.
I move before I can think, flipping, pressing their body beneath mine on instinct.
How can I feel you…
It’s not you, not really. Just a dream, one I will take advantage of.
My hand finds your back, firm between your shoulder blades as I pin you down—gently at first, then harder. Like I’ll lose this if I’m not careful. Like Iknowit’s slipping.
I slide in deep.
I can’t see you… But I don’t need to. The sensation of you alone is enough to break me.
My cock throbs with each slow thrust—heat gripping me tight, the slick pressure unreal, like velvet strangling me. Too good to be real. Too good to stop.
You’re fucking made for me.That thought cuts through the haze—feeling obsessive and wrong.
Fuck. Yes. Just like that.
My breath catches as the pressure builds, nerves buzzing under my skin like live wires.
I stay there, cock twitching, before I draw back just enough to feel every ounce of pressure dragging along my length.
Then I drive forward again, slow and forceful, a groan ripping from my throat. Pain hums somewhere in the background—distant, a bad signal that I attempt to ignore.
“Fuck,” I growl, my voice cracking.
