Page 60 of Hunting Pretty

Fuck. Ava just kept rubbing the lily over her skin, over her breasts and her pussy. Her moans getting louder. Her panties growing darker as she soaked herself.

She might not love me, not the way I loved her.

But shewantedme.

She needed me.

She was using my gift to get off, for God’s sake. She couldn’t beg any louder for me.

My self-control was fraying. My determination to keep my promise tohimwavering.

Ava plunged her free hand into her panties as she rubbed the lily over her nipples.

“Fuck, yes.” Her soft moaning hit me in the gut with another punch of need.

The sound of her fingers pushing into her wetness was nearly my undoing.

I almost leaped from the closet then and there.

But guilt wrapped like iron chains around my chest, squeezing my heart.

No. I had to stay back. I had to hold back.

My job was to watch her.

To prevent her from investigating. From running headfirst into a danger so dark and twisted that she might never crawl out of it.

“You feel so good,” she moaned. For me.

Tome.

I imagined spreading open her wet lips and plunging into her, filling her, making wet noises as I thrust in and out.

My cock surged with so much blood it pressed painfully against my zipper, demanding release, demanding I find my satisfaction in her wet, willing pussy.

My hands tightened to fists as I held myself back.

This was not why I had come here.

I had to stay focused.

Bigger picture.

But fuck, was Ava making it hard for me.

Her heels dug into the mattress as her hand moved hard against her bucking hips. “Oh God, I’m going to come.”

Yes, Ava. Come for me.

Her back arched off the bed. Her cry cut through the thick silence of the mansion, through my heart beating loud in my ears.

She sagged to the mattress as her body relaxed. Her lashes were already closing as she slipped her hand out ofher panties and let it flop to the side, her fingers glistening with her juices.

I wanted to taste those fingers. To suck the sweetness off them.

But not yet.

I ran my fingers back and forth along the rough fibers of the roll of rope hooked at my belt like a meditation.

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