Page 65 of Boys Who Hunt
His fingers dive underneath my belly, pushing my legs apart until he finds my clit from the top, and within seconds, I’m gasping for air, not knowing how to breathe with his fingers flicking me into insanity.
“You think you can keep this from me? I told you; I’ll take everything from you, whether you like it or not. And by the time I’m done with you, you will thank me for it.”
The taste of his cum still lingers on my tongue, reminding me of the hold he has over me. He thrusts in deep and circles his fingers around so expertly my eyes nearly roll into the back of my head.
“Feel that?” His middle finger presses down on my clit, slipping left and right with intent as if to remind me of my place beneath him, hungry for a fix. “That’s what being mine feels like.”
He pulls out and spears me again, and my body begins to shake with uncontrollable need.
“Don’t drop the knife, twig,” he warns. “Or there will be consequences.”
I struggle to keep it clenched between my teeth, the taste of my own juices a firm reminder of my position, my subjugation, my greed for more as he thrusts and thrusts.
“That’s it; fall apart all over my pierced cock like the slut you are,” Silas groans.
Right before I come, he stops circling, and the throbbing deep inside reminds me of how little power I have while a drawn-out groan escapes my mouth.
A wicked laugh fills the room, and he grabs the brush off the couch.
WHACK!
The hard wood leaves a heated mark in its wake, and I moan out loud.
“Make that sound again … but remember what I said. Don’t drop the knife.”
WHACK!
He hits my other ass cheek, the slap awakening a side of me I didn’t know I had. Because that slap definitely reverberated in my clit.
Oh shit.
“Are you going to scream for me, twig?” he asks. “Do it. Let the whole fucking house know what kind of a slut you are.”
He whacks me again and again, spreading the ache all over my ass until I can’t separate his thrusts from the spanking anymore. Pain and pleasure blend into one just like before, and my body literally quakes with need. My nails literally dig into the woodas he impales me while my orgasm looms closer, and my teeth clench together so hard the knife begins to cut into my tongue.
“Now beg. Beg me, thief.”
My brain has turned into complete mush. “Please …”
I cry out in both pain and bliss as the next strike makes my clit thrum, and I come so hard I nearly see stars.
“Fuck yes, just like that,” Silas groans before thrusting in like an unhinged madman.
A guttural groan leaves his throat, and I can feel the ropes of cum shooting into me before he pulls out and coats my red-stained ass too.
My whole body feels like it’s gone off the deep end—like I’m floating in nirvana or somewhere beyond.
He chucks the brush aside. A proud chuckle escapes his mouth as he gets up from the floor, admiring me from above. I can’t even move my legs or arms. Or anything, for that matter.
He bends over near my face and pulls the knife from my mouth, tucking it back into his pocket. “Look at you … so fucking perfect.”
Suddenly, he grips my face with both hands and smashes his lips onto mine. He laps up the blood from my lips before driving his tongue inside in full force. I’m defenseless to stop him, helpless against the onslaught of lust still flooding my veins, and desperate for more of whatever the fuck kind of hit he just gave me.
He kisses me feverishly, clutching my face with both hands as his tongue roams around my mouth, licking off the blood stains and saliva until nothing is left.
And I hate how much it gives me life. I hate it so much I bite his lip, but even that doesn’t make him flinch. Instead, he smiles against my mouth as his own blood dribbles into mine.
“I lied,” he whispers. “You did get another chance to taste my blood, thief. And I can’t fucking wait until next time when I’ll have another taste of you.”