Thirty-Four
Hunter
He found he could not stay away from her.
Fuck, the itch to have her was a force unto itself.
But he needed to know she felt it, too. That she wanted him as badly—not needed. Because needed implied she could not physically endure without him. Want was more honest. Its intentions were pure. Where need was sickly, addictive, destructive—want left the person with a choice.
He wanted her to choose him. To follow him. Towanthim.
And she did.
He trailed along just out of view, already knowing exactly where she was going. He felt his dick stiffen in his pants at the thought of being deep inside that perfect pussy.
Behind her loomed a figure striding after her.
Leo.
He had searched for Hunter in the crowd, found him, and for a solid moment, their gazes locked, and Hunter smiled in that devilish way as Leo frowned in response. They silently communicated.
Hunter had declared, I want her.
Leo had retorted,you will not fuck her.
But that did not mean he could not touch her. That he could not have his way with his flower. Leo would not stand in their way so long as he got to mark her for himself.
The thought felt like lead in Hunter’s stomach. His teeth gnashed as she turned a corner, entering the marina parking lot. She went around the marina, taking a path down the sandy hill, her skirt flying around her as the sea breeze picked up, carrying with it that golden spun hair. She walked a short distance to the log debris carried in by the sea. She found a spot that was against the sandy hill, out of view of the marina windows where a handful of diners sat. The houses along this beach were dark, empty, the owners not yet reverting to their summer retreats.
She found the exact set of logs she’d sat next to Hunter on when they were kids. She bent over to wipe away the leaves when Hunter came upon her. It was abrupt, fast, unexpected. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her upright as he pressed his body against her, trapping her to him. Her back felt cool against his warm chest; Skye always ran cold. He wasted no time dropping his head to the back of hers, inhaling her scent, feeling outraged it was Leo’s scented bullshit all over her. For a split second, he thought of throwing her into the ocean to wash it away, but then she gasped in that way that twisted him apart, that made him want to claw inside every crevice of her. That made his dick so hard against her back, all he thought about now was splitting her in half.
With one strong arm wrapped around her waist, he tugged her silly little dress up with his other and cupped her pussy—the only warm part of her.
“Skye,” he whispered, slipping his fingers beneath her tattered panties. “You promised you’d leave these behind for me.”
She let out a harsh breath, moaning as he dipped his finger into her pussy. She was so wet, he could hardly control himself. As he stroked her, pushing her wetness in circles along her clit, she let out a pained groan, whispering, “You’re not supposed to do this, Hunt…”
“No?”
“No.”
He rubbed her quickly and she buckled in his arms. He held her up, keeping her upright against him as he pleasured her. “Why not?” he demanded through gritted teeth.
“Against the rules…” she faintly said, throwing her head back so that it was now pressed along his shoulder. Her mouth was wide open, her impending orgasm on the verge of ripping through her.
He licked that spot beneath her ear, growling, “When have I ever followed the fucking rules, Nugget?”
She shook her head.
“When?” he demanded once more, shaking her against him, making sure she could feel the hard ridge of his cock. He moved it against her, tempted to pull it out and take her here—
“Never,” she breathed out.
“So then tell me to stop, and I will.”
She didn’t tell him to stop. Rather, she shivered in his arms, spreading her legs wider for him.
He smiled like the fiend that he was, delighted she couldn’t see it, delighted to have this moment where he could take her right here and there was fucking nothing that could stop him. This pussy was his to touch, his to thieve and taste, and fuck anyone that said otherwise. Yes, he felt like a demon in that moment. He felt the darkness seep out of him, cloaking them both, and she had no idea the animal that he was, the possessive way in which he viewed her as his—fuckinghis. He sped up his strokes, needing to feel her come. He slid his finger into her, knowing the rhythm that sent her over the edge.