Page 110 of Hate Me

That was it.

Caspian: It’s on, love. No mercy.

Caleb: Damn, Cas. You’re pushing me over the edge. Gonna be difficult to run with a hard dick.

Bastian: Good thing you’ve had lots of practice.

Caleb: Aww, don’t be jealous of my newly inked dick, B.

Bastian: Inked? Really?

Caleb: Cas didn’t tell you?

Bastian: Why would he?

Caleb: Because he went feral for it. Why? You wanna see if it has the same effect for you?

Bastian: No. But I do want to see it. Never seen one before.

Skylar: Are you coming? I’m waiting, boys. Getting cold out here.

Caleb: Getting naked as we’re talking, darling.

Bastian: Naked? We’re hunting first.

Caleb: I do my hunting best naked. Gets me in the mood.

Bastian: Jeez. What doesn’t? On my way, Sky.

Caspian: Run, love. Fucking run.

Everything was heightened.

While I was in this primal state, I was so well attuned to every little sound, every nuance.

The whistling of the wind through the trees surrounding us on either side.

The slight chill of the night air on my arms and face.

The crunch of our footsteps on the rough ground.

And the sound of Skylar whipping through the forest running from us.

Making herself into our prey.

Blood was roaring in my ears as the thrill of the hunt rolled through me.

My muscles were primed, my nerve endings electrified.

I was rock fucking hard, my cock straining against a pair of distressed black jeans I’d pulled on for the rough and tumble brutality that lay ahead. The navy shirt I’d had on earlier was open and blowing back with the force of my strides deeper into the forest of King Manor lands, because I’d been sweltering while in this animalistic state, the anticipation coiling inside me to a dangerous intensity.

A curse from Bastian had me swinging my head to the left to see him just managing to regain his balance after stumbling over a rock. I smirked. He was usually much more graceful, but his need for this, for Skylar, was such that he could barely contain it.

“I’m good,” he told us, straightening and adjusting his distressed blue jeans, which, aside from his shoes, was all he had on, the illumination from the moon casting a beautifully ethereal glow over those black rose tattoos of his snaking down his neck, over his shoulders and down his chiseled chest.

“Hmm, this will do nicely,” I heard Caleb say to my right, and I turned to see him picking up a four-foot-long piece of a fallen branch with sharp twigs at the ends.

I couldn’t help myself, I reached out and fisted his cock, unable to take him standing there completely naked right within reach without forgoing touching him a moment longer.

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