Page 3 of Hunted for the Holidays

She struggles, her ass brushing the front of my jeans with each squirm, further stirring my dick to life. After seven years with nothing better than my imagination, my hand, and a communal bottle of lotion, this is like a fucking lap dance. I wonder how soft her skin would feel between my teeth.

“Please,” she begs, tears trailing down the side of her face.

The scent of jasmine, vanilla, sweat, and fear floods my nostrils as I lean closer, licking a salty path up her cheek, causing her to still. She’s fucking delicious. I am going to thoroughly enjoy playing with her.

“What’s your name?” I ask my pretty little prey.

“Char-lotte,” she sniffles.

“Can you be a good girl for me, Charlotte?”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she nods in the snow.

“Good,” I say, wrapping my fist in her silky hair and dragging her up to her knees as I stand.

She stares up at me from beneath her long lashes. Tears rim her blue eyes, making them shimmer in the dimming sunlight. Makeup runs down her pale cheeks. She’s a mess—a beautiful fucking mess. The sight of her on her knees with fear and vulnerability painted across her pretty face makes my cock thicken to an uncomfortable stiffness behind my zipper. I really should be focused on what I came here for, but there’s something so pure about her that I can’t deny myself the chance to ruin.

With my free hand, I curl my fingers under her chin, tipping her head back so she’s looking right at me. The pad of my thumb traces back and forth across her soft lips. I can already imagine how fucking good they will feel wrapped around my cock. She doesn’t resist as I press the tip of my thumb between them.

“Good girl,” I praise, slowly pushing in further.

Something sparkles in her eyes at my words. I think she likes the praise. I pull my thumb out, trailing my knuckles down the curve of her cheek and leaning down. “Take my cock out, little bunny.”

Her eyebrows raise, lips parting in surprise as I see a little puff of air leave them. I wonder if she’ll fight me or if she’ll be my good little girl.

Charlotte pulls off her gloves, an obnoxious diamond cluttering her left hand as she unbuttons my jeans. She isn’t just weekend company, she is—was—his fiance. A flash of jealous heat rushes up my spine at the thought of him having her and my grip on her hair tightens.

If she feels any pain, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she slowly and unsurely pulls down my zipper. Impatient for her touch, I use my free hand to release my cock from the confines of my pants and boxer briefs. She gasps as I stroke it in her face, like she’s never seen a dick before.

“Touch me,” I command her.

She looks uncertain, but places her lithe fingers around as much of my hard length as she can and starts to pump, mimicking my own touch while looking to me for reassurance.

Surely this girl has jacked someone off before, right?

My head tips back at the contact. It feels so fucking good. Her delicate and warm palm glides against my skin as she looks up at me with a hooded gaze.

“I need to be inside you,” I growl.

Pausing, her eyes ping nervously from my cock to face as she stutters. “I…uh… but-”

“No buts, bunny, open wide,” I admonish, guiding her head forward.

Her lips part and she looks up at me with fear in her eyes. She’s such a sweet little thing. I can’t wait to ruin her. I shove my cock roughly into her opened mouth and she sucks me greedily, going too deep too fast. She gags and sputters. but I don’t give a shit if she chokes. Her throat is like heaven and goddamnit if I don’t already feel like I’m gonna come. Charlotte hollows her cheeks, her tongue circling my tip. I use my hand in her hair to hold her head still while I fuck her face.

“Fuck,” I moan as she picks up her pace, hands wrapping around my base.

I know I won’t last long and I don’t even fucking care, because I’ve just decided I’m taking her home with me. She may have been Kit’s, but she’s mine now, and I intend to play with my prey before I kill it. Releasing her hair, both of my hands grip her face roughly as I start to piston my hips.

Panic and fresh tears well in her eyes as she gags again when I bump the back of her throat. I’m so lost in how fucking good she feels, I don’t hear anyone coming.

“What in the actual fuck are you doing, Derek?” Wyatt spits. I turn to make eye contact with him, not stopping my relentless attack on my captive and finding Wyatt’s face twisted up in anger.

Charlotte tries to scream, but my dick muffles the sound and the vibrations make my balls start to tighten. Her palms slap repeatedly against my thighs as I slam in harder, using her to chase my release.

“Good fucking girl, Charlotte,” I grunt out, hot ropes of cum shooting down her throat.

I release my grip and she falls back, snot and tears trailing down her face as she coughs and spits into the snow. Tucking away my spent dick, I turn to Wyatt with a shrug. “Getting my first blowjob as a free man.”

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