Page 12 of Hunted

"You think you can waltz back out there, and everything will be sunshine and wildflowers, littlefugl?" His deep voice is a velvet purr caressing my senses. "The forest is my domain, and I decide when it's safe for you to enter."

I swallow hard, my mouth is suddenly dry as cotton. Aksel's eyes have a gleam that makes me feel utterly exposed, like he can see straight through to the molten desire simmering beneath my skin.

"I-I need to start collecting data soon," I stammer. "If the storm has passed, there's no reason I can't head out for a few hours this afternoon with you as my guide."

Aksel cocks one dark brow, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smile that makes my knees go weak. "You're awfully eager to put yourself in harm's way again, aren't you?" He leans in closer, his woodsy scent surrounding me and making my head spin. “Are you intentionally trying to test me?"

I want to move away, to escape the searing intensity of his stare, but I'm utterly transfixed. Pinned like a butterfly to a board beneath his gaze.

After a long, heated moment, Aksel straightens with a shake of his head. "I'll check the forecast," he rumbles, stepping back and allowing me to draw in a breath. "If it looks clear, I'll decide if you can venture out today. But you'd be wise to prepare yourself for staying put until tomorrow."

My shoulders slump in disappointment, but I know better than to argue. Aksel's tone brooks no debate—he's not asking for my input, merely stating what will happen. A shiver skates down my spine, my core clenching with a strange mix of frustration and arousal.

He holds my gaze for another moment before turning on his heel and striding into the cabin, leaving me flushed and flustered on the porch. I'm mesmerized by the play of his powerful muscles shifting beneath the inked canvas of his back.

I feel that Aksel will keep me under his watchful eye no matter what the forecast says. The thought should terrify me that I'm at the mercy of this intense, unpredictable man.

But a reckless part of me wants nothing more than for him to lock me away in his cabin and have his way with me.

8

AKSEL

My mind races with conflicting desires while I pace the length of my bedroom. The hunger to possess Zara, to mark her as mine, burns through me like an inferno. But an unexpected fear has taken root—the fear that she might come to harm.

I had meticulously planned every detail, determined to hunt her down like a doe and kill her like that wolf would have. And yet, her beauty and innocence are an irresistible lure, tempting me to unleash a different beast.

Clenching my fists, I try to regain control over the swirling storm of emotions. I am the master here, the apex predator. No one dictates my actions or weakens my resolve. And yet...

Zara's defiant spirit and alluring innocence have awoken something primal, something I thought long buried. The need to protect her battles with the urge to defile her, to strip away her purity and claim her as my own.

Growling in frustration, I rake my fingers through my hair. How can one woman disrupt the carefully constructed facade I've built? The plans I had in place and the thrill of the hunt all seem to pale compared to this newfound obsession.

As I continue to pace, my muscles tense with restless energy. The scent of Zara's shampoo, which smells like vanilla and roses, lingers in my nostrils, taunting me with memories of her damp hair clinging to her flushed skin. A low groan escapes my lips as I imagine pinning her beneath me, her cries of pleasure mingling with fearful pleas.

Enough. I need to regain control before this fragile creature unravels me completely. Forcing myself to stillness, I take deep breaths and refocus my thoughts. Zara may have inadvertently awakened something within me, but I will not be undone.

I am the hunter, and she is my prey. Whether I choose to cherish or destroy her remains to be seen.

My cock jerks in my pants, and I realize ignoring it is just making things fucking worse. I haven't masturbated in years. Sex has never been something I'm bothered about. I can take it or leave it, but this girl turns up, and my dick is a fucking steel pole ever since.

I growl in frustration, feeling my cock straining against the confines of my jeans. Enough of this foolishness. I'm in control here, not some raging hormone-addled boy.

Ripping open my belt, I yank down my zipper and free my throbbing dick. The thick shaft pulses in my calloused hand as I give it a firm stroke from base to tip. A guttural groan rumbles from my chest at the much-needed friction.

Bracing one hand against the wall, I lean forward and pump my fist along my rigid cock. Flashes of Zara's flushed cheeks and parted lips invade my mind, stoking the flames. I visualize her on her knees before me, those innocent eyes wide as she takes in the sight of my dick.

"You want this, don't you, littlefugl?" I growl her nickname in Norwegian through gritted teeth, increasing the pace of my strokes. “Beg for it. Beg me to ruin you."

My fantasy Zara whimpers and squirms, torn between fear and wanton need. The thought of defiling her, of marking that flawless skin with my teeth and cum, has me leaking.

Reaching down, I cup my balls and give them a rough squeeze, groaning at the exquisite mix of pleasure and pain. My muscles flex and strain as I chase my release, sweat beading along my brow.

Visions of pinning Zara beneath me, her lithe body writhing as I claim her, push me closer to the edge. I pump my fist furiously, chasing that elusive peak, until finally?—

With a feral snarl, I come undone. Hot ropes of cum spurt from my cock, coating the wall and floor in my release. I brace myself on shaking arms, panting harshly when the waves of euphoria crest and ebb.

As the haze of lust clears, I eye the mess I've made with a mixture of disdain and dark amusement. Seems the little bird has more of an effect on me than I'd like. But this was merely a momentary lapse, a way to blow off some steam. I won't allow her to derail me again.

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