Page 10 of Hunted

5

ALEXANDRE

Fuck…

Like this, crawling through the pitch-dark forest in an attempt to get away from me, Olivier is absolutely delectable. Fucking delicious. His pants pull tight around his thighs and perky ass, and despite the lack of light out here, my eyes perfectly catch sight of the things that matter to me. The way he winces when he checks over his shoulder and sees me stalking behind him, following him. I could easily lunge forward and grab him by his ankles, and drag him over the forest ground and back to me.

Hmm. Now that’s an interesting thought. My dick definitely likes that. But nu-huh, we’ve got to wait just a little more. Building up the anticipation, and all that. Having fun. And boy, do my brothers and I like to have fun.

I ran out of stones, my last one bringing Olivier to his knees.

Though he taught me well, my grandfather would be surprised to see the kind of prey I’m about to bring home from this hunt. The kind of prey that has messy blond hair and jade-colored eyes. Pointy ears like an elf, and a long and slender neck. Perfect for leather and restraints, for submission. Olivier would look perfect naked, with a bit of eye-liner and all that creamy skin on full display.

I slide my phone out of the large pocket of my cloak. Nearly half past one. There’s a message from Elder Jacques, confirming that all other participants have been eliminated and that our brothers are gathering at tonight’s spot for the Initiations. I gaze back at where Olivier is still crawling, unwilling to face his defeat. Truly, he is crawling toward his victory, but I doubt that he’s ready to see it like that yet. Pulling the ends of my leather strip tight, I wrap one side around my right hand and use the rest to swing it around, enjoying the light and wooshy sound it makes. It’s the perfect whip for the perfect candidate.

Olivier turns once again over his shoulder, eyes widening behind the dark lace of his mask when he sees me. Or rather, when he sees my self-made lash. Part of me expects him to crumble and surrender. Part of me expects him to beg right then and there that he wants to give up the chase. What I don’t expect is for him to get back onto his feet—though admittedly, it’s a wobbly sight—and run away from me yet again.

“Putain de merde,” I hiss, feeling both annoyed and thrilled for the renewed chase. “Really?” I throw at his back. He ignores me, of course, though I swear I can feel him straightening his shoulders. The feisty fucker.

Feisty and stupid, because he doesn’t stand a chance against me and he knows it. Still it feels good.

I pretend to attack with my leather strap, swinging it between us so he can hear the swishing sound of the material hitting air and nothing else, and I grin when I see him flinch. Despite that, he continues to run deeper and deeper into the forest. He’s getting closer to our meeting point, though he doesn’t know that. Not yet. But when we cross the final trail toward the Atrium, I’m afraid that our little chase will have come to an end. I want to catch him alone and explain what’s about to happen, before anyone else does.

No, I don’t want any snoopers for this next part. Our first part together. That’s between Olivier and I, and we’re going to enjoy every single second. And that’s a promise.

Lunging forward, I grab him by his waist, pushing my weight against his back, ready to make a plunge down and hit the ground. But…

“Oh, no!” He hisses savagely and his nails dig in the skin of my hands. Fuck me, he’s scratching me like the little wolf he is, and it fucking hurts. “I’m not a complete pushover, you know.” He’s seething, digging and clawing in an attempt to break free from my hold. When he tries to go for the leather strap, I let out a frustrated growl.

“That’s mine.” Pulling my left hand free, I use my fingers to connect with the material as well, circling it around his slender waist to form a tight belt. That catches Olivier off balance, literally. He stumbles, rescinding his carving nails in an attempt to create more distance between our glued bodies.

Uh uh. That’s not going to happen. What is going to happen, however, is that I will bring him down onto his knees so I can have my way with him. And then, later on, when he understands the situation he’s in, I’ll have my way with him again. And again, and again, and…

Eternity doesn’t sound long enough when I know I may spend it with my unhinged, little wolf. Yeah, I want to see more of that side of him. The wild, the uncontrolled.

Together we topple forward and onto the ground with a pained grunt.

“I never said you were a pushover,” I grunt, then sit back on my haunches to leave some space between us, making sure that my thighs securely straddle his plump, firm ass. Yeah, I’m going to enjoy every centimeter of that in a minute. Though I’ve got a feeling he might need some encouragement before we get to that part.

Thankfully I’ve got good negotiation skills. At least, I’d like to think so. I’m good at making people feel comfortable.

“Are you alright?” I ask him.

“Just…give me a second.” He sounds out of breath. Pained. But then, I did hit him pretty spot on with my balls. Fuckk… my dick likes that idea. Sliding the leather strap carefully from my hand, I pull it tight by the ends, then look around me. The rope’s about two meters long. I could easily tie his elegant neck to one of the trees. Or his feet. Hmm.

Beneath me, Olivier appears to be feeling better, because he starts wriggling in an attempt to free himself.

“Arrêt,” I chime, rolling my hips against his to make my statement. My clothed cock rubs against his ass, causing a sizzle of excitement in the pit of my stomach. “I can’t think when you’re trying to get away.”

He snorts, but his voice sounds gruff. “Think? About what?”

I eye the nearest tree, then look back at the rope. “Whether I want to tie you up by your neck or by your feet. Do you have a preference?” My hand gives one of his ass cheeks a little squeeze. As firm as I’d hoped. Fuck, I’m already salivating and we’re not even there yet.

Olivier freezes. “This is just a game for you, isn't it?” He spews. His words make me frown, and I look at the mop of wild, blond hair as it covers his ears and parts of his cheeks. Such a beautiful contrast to the black silk that covers his upper face, though I’m surprised that the board didn’t tell him to cut it. They’re strict on rules like that. No golden teeth allowed either, though Edouard must have slipped a nice note to keep his in his big mouth.

I’m happy though. I love Oliviers’ wild strands. Apparently they represent that wildness in his soul a lot more closely than I’d anticipated. And… I like it.

“Well…yes. It’s called the Wicked Chase for a reason.” I lean forward and pull those light golden locks aside to brush my lips against his flushed skin. His exposed cheek feels warm and makes my cock thicken against his thigh.

---