Page 183 of Boys Who Hunt

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Page 183 of Boys Who Hunt

All this time he kept his true feelings hidden just so he wouldn’t get hurt?

I grip his chin and force him to look at me. “Don’teverfucking lie to me again.”

He gulps.

“Do you understand?”

He blushes intensely, then nods.

“Use your fucking words.”

“Yes, Sir.”

My dick throbs from his groveling voice.

“Good boy.” I move my fingers down from his chin to his throat. “But you’ve been such a fucking sore to my heart, clinging to the girl we both share. You couldn’t help but flaunt your love for her right in front of me…” I squeeze tighter and tighter. “You wanted me to be jealous of what you two had.” I grab his package, and his eyes flash with surprise. “I amfuckingjealous. Of both youandher.”

“Please …” he squeaks, nearly moaning when I begin to rub him right through the fabric of his pants.

“Please … what?” I release the pressure just a little to allow him to talk, but not enough to let him get comfortable.

“I’m yours,” he says. “Use me. Do what you want with me, please, I’ll take anything. I need you. Desperately.”

“How desperately?” A grin forms on my face as I lean in, amused by his beggary while I slowly rub him into submission.

I could listen to this all day and still not have enough after what he put me through.

“Whimper for me like you did for her,” I growl.

And the whimper that follows, my God, now that gets me rock hard.

I immediately grab his shoulders, twist him around, and bend him over across the bar.

RIP!

I tear off his pants in one go, not giving a shit that the button is still closed.

All this fucking time, this is what’s been between us, and I’m tired of denying myself the pleasure of his body.

I grab a bottle of olive oil from the cabinet above the bar and pour it all over his ass.

“You want me?” I ask, and I zip down and take out my hard-on. “Then fucking take me all the way, like a good fucking boy.”

“Wha—”

His words are interrupted by an ungodly moan as I thrust into his ass, filling him up within seconds.

“Oh fuck!” he moans, bracing against the bar, nails scratching across the top. “You’re huge!”

“That’s it, show me how badly you’ve yearned for this fucking cock.” I slam into him with everything I have. I grab him by the hair and tilt his head up. “Let me hear those moans you’ve been giving to her instead.”

Every thrust is another moan scratched off my to-do list, but it’ll never be enough.

All this time we’ve been pretending we don’t feel anything, while we’ve been secretly longing to have each other, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of this dance of avoidance, this game we’ve been playing.

“Enough,” I grit. “Tell me. Tell me you fucking love me like you love her.”

“I love you,” he whimpers. “I’ve never not loved you.”




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