Page 116 of Hunted: Season Two

Because that’sexactlywhat I intend to do.

Sir and Kid’s fingers curl together, touching the most sensitive spot they can find, not only forcing my back to arch, but my head to loll in the same direction while my hips eagerly buck forward, begging for more.

They gingerly slide their thick, joined hold back out, wetness soaking every inch of it on its way, yet the instant they reach the very edge, they roughly shove it back inside causing Mutt’s callous palm to crash into my clit.

Between the delectable force and inability to scream, I find myself whipping my head back and forth.

Tangling my arms around their necks.

Quietly panting against each of their faces as they slowly and repeatedly pound into me.

Stretch my sopping wet muscles further.

Tease my swollen nub faster.

Chomping down on the inside of my cheek is done out of desperation to hold in my screams, much like curling my toes inside my black boots; however, having to keep the noises muted leads to them being swallowed.

Felt in the hitches of my breath that happen when I frenziedly rock into their heaving.

Shudders shoot through every limb in my entire body pushing me to grind harder.

Greedier.

Needier.

“Such a good girl,” coos Kid in my ear in tandem with their thrusting. “Such a good.” A sharper push. “Good.” The next is deeper. “Girl.”

My entire frame tenses to the point I swear I’m gonna snap a bone.

Or ten.

“You’re such a pretty little whore,” Sir groans, voice practically air, palm drenched from my sticky juices. “Our pretty little whore.”

“Our good girl.”

Their oscillation of compliments causes additional wetness.

Tightness.

“Our cum dumpster.”

Shakes.

“Our one and only.”

Shivers.

“Ours,” gets unforeseenly growled in unison pushing me over the edge, leaving me with no choice but to throw my head backwards, screw my eyes shut, and silently howl into the star filled night sky above us while white-hot pulsations suck in their stiff digits deeper and deeper, reiterating their proclamation.

I am theirs.

And any time…day or night…private or public…they are mine.

Chapter 23

Nolan

Finger fucking the woman I’m gonna propose towiththe man I’m also gonna propose to in front of the woman I would’veneverproposed to who alsohatedsaid man is the type of Tiny Tim Christmas miracle shit I didn’t even know I needed.

---