Page 53 of The Huntress and Her Hound

“Wow, stalker.”

“Share it with me.”

Cher bristles at my demand. “Who the hell are you? I thought you were Mr. Nice Guy, not...whatever this is.” She motions at me.

My jaw cracks. “You got mad last night because I implied this was just a sex thing, so I’m giving you what you want. More than sex. Share your location or pay the consequences.”

Her eyes light on fire, exactly like I thought they would. She takes a step toward me, standing on her tip toes and poking my chest. “And what would you do to me, Jude?”

I lean into her, gripping her chin. “I’ll put you on your knees and throw this ‘going slow’ shit out the window—and your brother is more than welcome to listen to you beg for me to do it all again.”

She sucks in a breath, her expression turning to ice. “You won’t touch me unless I say so.”

“Who said I had to touch you to punish you, kitten?” I growl, dropping my hand from her face. “Now share your location.”

Her entire face darkens with a malice that’s exhilarating. “You have no idea who I am, hound. Maybe I should put you on your knees.”

Holy fuck. I have never been more turned on. I’ve always demanded power in a relationship—and I’ll have it with Cher, but damn, she’s so feisty. It’ll make the victory so much sweeter.

My phone then pings, letting me know she shared her location. I smile down at her, and then press my lips to her forehead. What a good girl.

Chapter 20

The Huntress

What the hell have I gotten myself into? I retreat to my room after the encounter with Jude, wondering if he deceived me just to control me. He was so soft, and now he’s threatening to put me on my knees—but not touch me? What does that even mean?

My heart thumps in my chest. My entire sexual experience is only what happened to me in high school. All the men afterward haven’t touched me. I mean, before my nightmare, there was backseat groping, fingering, attempted blow jobs, but...

It feels irrelevant now, especially because my body trembles with anticipation for whatever Jude is referring to. Could I give up control if it meant the voices stop?

Could he fix me?

‘No one can fix you,’ the voice cackles wickedly in my head.

I wince, half-tempted to go back to Jude. I wonder what he would think of me though—if he knew that something is broken inside.

Leave. He’d leave.

I brush it off and start getting ready for work, wondering how the hell he’s going to manage taking me and picking me up with Henry here. How will he explain it away? I tug on a pair of leather leggings, with a cropped white tank. It shows my tattoos, but I have no intention of hunting tonight. I don’t know if I ever will again...

As long as he doesn’t leave me alone afterward.

It’s hard being broken and knowing that triggers exist somewhere in my body and mind—but I don’t know what they all are. I haven’t managed to figure out what makes me panic. At first, just Jude being near me scared me. Then I didn’t panic until he made me orgasm. Now, when will I panic again? Will each time I be able to handle a little more?

I try to imagine seeing Jude’s cock and not nearly vomiting. I can’t stand the sight of a dick. But also... I want him inside of me. I want him. But what if I get triggered in the middle of it? I run my fingers through my hair and clench my fists as tightly as I can. It tugs at my scalp, and my mind flickers with the fantasy of Jude holding me that way as he shoves himself inside of me. I ache with...excitement.

Maybe punishment is the exact thing I need. Maybe I don’t want Jude to be soft in the way my rapist was, grooming and drugging and talking to me sweetly. No, I need Jude to just get it over with. Break the seal. But how do I get him to do it? I don’t want him to know I’m broken. Then, I know he’d treat me like I'm fragile.

Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair. He said he’d punish me if I tried him. I catch sight of myself in the mirror, and then my eyes drop to my phone.

I’ll just have to blatantly disobey him.

***

Two hours later, I greet my brother in the kitchen as he returns with Cash, having taken him to the little doggy daycare while he went to the gym.

“Where’s Jude?” Henry asks as soon as I step into the kitchen, wearing a plain pair of Vans with my outfit. I need to be able to move easily.

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