Page 44 of The Fire Went Wild

She goes still, something softening in her expression. I push her hair back again, not sure what that softening means.

“I’m so confused,” she whispers. “You—” She pulls her hands away from me and looks down at them, dark with blood. “Why do I like this?”

I hesitate. I know why. She’s a Hunter. But I really, really don’t want to explain it right now. I need to put my cock in her pussy. I need to feel the inside of her.

“That’s complicated, too,” I finally say, pushing up the skirt of her dress so I can access her panties for the third time tonight. She gasps a little and settles back against the tree.

She also doesn’t stop me as I slide my fingers into her panties and then between her folds.

“Tell me to stop,” I order, my cock throbbing at how wet she is. How slippery. Howwarm.

She’s going to feel so fucking good.

Her lips part. I almost think she’s going to say it. But instead, she just stares at me defiantly.

I pull out my soaked finger and rub it over her clit.That, at least, I know how to find after years of exploring with the dead.Even if they never react the way she does right now, keening and bucking against my hand.

“Take your panties off,” I tell her, still working her clit.

“W-why?” Her question is jagged. Sharp. She rolls her hips in time with my touch.

“Because I just killed two men without a weapon and I’m covered in blood and I need to fuck you right now.”

The words come out before I can stop them. I fully expect Charlotte to pull away.

Instead, her clit pulses hot against my fingers. I’m uncovering all the strange delights of living women this evening, aren’t I?

“If you want them off,” she says darkly, still fucking my hand, “then you can take them off.”

That’s the only invitation I need. I grab the silky fabric with both hands and pull. My revival has me strong enough to rip a man apart; Charlotte’s panties shred like tissue.

“Fuck,” she groans, slumping back against the tree.

I toss the tattered fabric away and palm my cock over my jeans, adjusting it before I drag down the zipper. Charlotte watches me with hooded eyes, her hips rolling a little against the air, her skin and dress both streaked with dark smears of blood. I know that once I’m inside her, I’m not going to last long.

“Touch yourself,” I tell her as I pull out my cock.

She gives me another one of those defiant looks and I nearly come in my hand. But then her gaze drops down to where I’m gripping myself, fingers tight around my erection.

She licks her lips. Slides her hand between her legs. Looks back up to meet my eyes.

“I shouldn’t do this,” she says even as she runs her fingers in fast, frantic circles over her clit, widening her legs and bracing her back up against the tree.

“Why not?” I step closer to her, willing myself not to stroke my cock. I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll come.

Charlotte just stares at me, her chest rising and falling as she works her clit. “You know why not.”

I grin at that. And then I throw out what little restraint I’ve been clinging to because none of it matters. The only important thing is fucking her hot, living cunt.

I move like I’m Hunting prey: clearing the space between us in a blink, grabbing both her wrists and pinning them over her head with one hand. She stares up at me, lust burning through her gaze. Then I hook her knee with my free arm and jerk her wide. Charlotte groans, arching up toward me.

“Keep your hands right there,” I growl into her ear.

She smiles. “Or what?”

I squeeze her wrists more tightly, making her moan. “I won’t let you come.”

Her eyes flash, and I let her go, keeping our gazes locked as I reach down to grip the base of my cock. Charlotte curls her hands into fists, but she doesn’t drop them.

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