Page 99 of Oathbreaker

I like the Smith & Wesson, and Hunter promises I’ll get one to carry before the day ends.

I release the tension in my neck before picking up the handgun. With this one, I feel like I’m able to control the aim better, and the recoil is manageable.

Hunter walks up behind me when I lift the gun to aim.

Three, two?—

Right when I squeeze the trigger, Hunter grabs a handful of my ass, and the shot goes wild.

“Hunter James Brigham, that is so dangerous. You’re distracting me!”

“If someone is trying to kill you, you’ll be distracted then too. Focus,” he says close to my ear.

I suck my teeth and roll my eyes. He has a point, but still.

I lift the gun again, and then I start counting.

Three, two?—

This time, I shoot low, but that’s because I bend forward at the last minute when Hunter’s hand skates beneath the elastic of my yoga pants.

“No panties. Really, Sunbeam?” His finger finds my clit, rubbing it in small circles.

I mumble incoherently, pushing back against him. He’s hard, and all my ability to focus is now in my snatch.

“Good, but you have to focus better than that, Sunbeam.”

“Ugh!” Determined to make my shot and to come, I square my shoulders.

I lift the gun.

Three, two?—

This time, when he slides his finger inside me, I go up on my toes and keep both eyes open and my arms locked. I hit the target right in the center.

“Good job, baby. You did good,” he whispers. He’s got two fingers in me now, and the heel of his palm presses against my nub.

“What do I win?” I ask, breathless.

“What do you want as a prize?”

“Your cock,” I blurt out.

He chuckles. Spinning me around, he bends me over the long bench separating the shooting bays from the cabinets.

With as much frantic energy as he’s using to unzip his pants, I push my leggings down to my knees. When my palms slap against the wood-grain bench, he pushes inside me in one long stroke.

“Fuck—H!”

He pumps into me, slamming so hard that my tits hit my chin. It’s so hot.

“You’re going to keep yourself safe, right, Sunbeam?” His balls slap my clit, and I widen my stance as far as the material of my pants will allow, arching my back.

“Yes,” I say to him on a moan.

“God, you’re perfect,” he says. “Rub your clit quick. I’m about to come, and I want you squeezing my cock when I do.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, I rub my spot in the familiar pattern I know is destined to bring me over the edge.

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