Page 173 of Boys Who Hunt

“Yes. Come. Give it to me. Now.”

She has no control.

Right here, right now, her body belongs to me, and I willmakeit come.

I slap her ass. Once. Twice. Thrice. And with the fourth slap, I bury myself so deep that I can feel her contract.

“Fuck me, Heath! Don’t stop, please!”

There it is.

That’s the fucking bullet I needed.

Straight to the fucking heart.

I hold her thigh as I bury in deep and release a jet of seed. While I’m still inside her, I tilt her head back and slam my lips ontohers, sealing all of my need, all of the pent-up frustration and desire for something that didn’t want to be mine into this one fucking unruly kiss.

Even if just for a moment, it’s enough.

Enough to fill that tepid void inside my heart, languishing, begging for a warmth it will never feel.

All because of a mistake I made.

Two hearts collided because I orchestrated it … not realizing my own was already tethered to them both.

I relish the moment, savor her taste on my tongue before I release her from my grip. But those eyes, God, those fucking eyes undo me.

I pull out, and a strangled moan leaves her mouth.

Right then, the curtain is shoved aside, and her bare ass, and my hard-on are on full display in front of the old shop owner.

Oh fuck.

CHAPTER 42

Heath

“Enough!”the shop owner screeches.

Ivy grabs the dress and pulls it back up, her face growing redder by the second. “Oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“Get out!” the lady yells.

I step into her aura, and she backs away. “No. Not before I’ve bought these dresses.”

The old lady’s eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me.” I glare at her while she cowers underneath me. “I want to buy these. Go to the cash register.” When she doesn’t move fast enough, I clap my hands in front of her face, and she dashes off.

I grab the outfits off the rack in the booth and tear the tag off the one Ivy’s wearing now.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Turn around.”

After she’s done what I asked, I zip her back up.

“Gorgeous.”