Page 12 of Hunted for Halloween

A shaky breath escapes her when I look down at her. The delicate edges of her flawless face draw me in like a siren. Her face is coated in very light makeup that'd be easy to miss if I wasn’t staring at her up close. It's a stark contrast to how bold and sensual her makeup looked that Halloween night.

My palms, rough and greedy, crawl up her legs and push her thighs open so that I can fit myself between them.

“Maybe you didn't know who I was that night when I made you come, but the knowledge of who I am didn't stop you from spreading your legs and coming all over my face when I ate you out two days ago.” I let my palm travel up her body, marking her everywhere it touches until my fingers hover right aboveher protruding nipples that are poking through the fabric of her blouse.

Fuck, if she isn’t needy, squirming, wet, and ready for me. The urge to clasp my mouth around her nipples and have her soft moans echo through the room like a twisted lullaby burns a path through my guts.

“S-stop…” she breathes heavily, attempting to look away from me but I grab her delicate chin.

“You want me, Pumpkin. You want me so badly that you hate yourself for it.” I force the words out, trailing my fingers over her plump lips.

She moans, tears rapidly filling her eyes.

“I bet you are wet already,” I whisper, unable to resist pushing two fingers into her mouth. Her eyes flame with a lust so powerful and potent that it makes blood rush to my cock, making it strain hard against my pants.

My fingers dig into her hips as she gazes at me from beneath her dark lashes, her expression so fucking sexy and arousing. Her body turns pliant against me, so submissive, like it instantly recognizes who it belongs to. She sucks on my fingers like a good little girl. It gets me so hard and all that clouds my mind is ripping her clothes off her body and bending her over this dresser.

Her eyes shimmer even brighter when I push my fingers into her mouth further, triggering her gag reflex.

“You dirty girl,” I groan, slowly retracting my fingers from her mouth as she releases them with a popping sound that echoes through the room.

I rest my forehead against hers, an uneven and unhinged breath rolling out of me.

“I'm going to fuck you in here with my fingers and you are going to watch and take it like daddy's good little girl.” I makemy intentions clear, my voice cocooning the dressing room like smoke, laced with dark promises.

She sucks in a sharp intake of air. The sound is soft and innocent just like her. It makes me want to ruin and corrupt her in every way there is.

“You will to moan for daddy, won't you?” I trail my fingers down her cheek, feeling the desires lurking beneath her skin rush to the surface.

“Yes, daddy.”

Her lips part and she arches into me, fisting my shirt when I wrap my fingers around her delicate throat.

Perfection. That's what she is.

She looks like she was fucking made for me.

Taking my eyes off her face for a second and doing a sweeping glance of the dressing room, I haul the nearest stool to where I stand, tossing it in front of the dresser.

Aurora’s eyes flit to mine, flashing with hunger and anticipation. The side of my lip lifts in a twisted smirk as I yank her hip onto the stool, eliciting a gasp from her. She's now sitting with her front to the mirror, my imposing frame dwarfing her from behind.

A teasing shade of red explodes on her cheeks and neck as I unbutton her jeans, shrugging them off until she's left in nothing but her black lace thong and silk blouse.

“Legs on the edge of the dresser, Pumpkin.”

She looks reluctant, but the lust in her eyes that currently mirrors the one humming in her body makes her oblige. Her eyes gleam with shame, like she hates and is embarrassed by the way her body responds to my touch. It fuels me with rage so raw that it tightens my muscles.

My breath quickens, my cock swelling to a point of painful aching in my pants when she leans into me with her backpressed to my front—an action that unconsciously shows how much she trusts me.

Her nipples harden into stiff peaks as her chest heaves up and down harshly.

One of my hands splays on her upper body, unapologetically kneading her breasts before coming up to secure her neck in a sensual, choking grip. My little pumpkin whimpers for me, her body flailing helplessly as I stroke her roaring pulse.

“Mine,” I bite her earlobe. My veiny fingers come down on her pussy, smacking her through her soaked lace underwear. She shrieks, wiggling. “Legs on the dresser and spread them wide. If you take them off, I'll stop.”

“Please,” her eyes glisten with tears that depict her frustration, “don't stop…”

Our eyes connect in the mirror as I stroke her through her underwear. She tilts her head back and moans.

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