Page 45 of Hunted By Valentine

Our gazes meet, green and dark colliding in silence. I gnaw on my bottom lip, wondering if I should mention the tattoo. It feels wrong to know about it without acknowledging it.

“You deserve a reward, Pet,” he rasps, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Th…” Instead of thanking him as I was just about to, I cut myself off. “Yes I do,” I agree.

He gives me an approving smile. “Undress for me,” he commands.

I don’t waste any time in removing my clothes, not even bothering to do it in a sexy way. I just tug, yank, and shimmy until it’s all a pile on the floor.

“Grab my belt and straddle my leg.” He pats his bare thigh.

Again, I obey, getting the belt before I sit down on his muscular leg. “Like this?” I ask, arching my back.

“Yes, exactly like that,” he rasps. Taking the belt from my hand, he guides my arms behind me and wraps the leather around my wrists. “Make yourself come, Pet.”

I pout slightly. “You’re not going to touch me?” This is so not the reward I thought I was in for.

“No.” That one word rings through the room. “If you want to come, you’ll have to make it happen.”

He fists his hard cock, lazily stroking it while I make up my mind. Ah, hell, there’s no point in pretending there’s a choice. I want this, even if I know I can’t do it by myself without adding pain. At least it’ll stillfeel good.

I can’t look away from his hand, watching him pleasure himself while I begin to rub against him. I undulate my hips, moaning as I build up the perfect pace that hits my clit just right.

“Valentine,” I moan. Then I remember what he said about only calling him that outside of the university. “It feels so good, Professor.”

My breasts bounce as I increase the pace, riding his leg harder, faster. My breathing grows ragged, punctuated by moans of growing desire. His brown eyes lock onto mine, and I see a flicker of something primal there. His hand tightens around his cock, the strokes becoming more deliberate, synchronized with my movements.

“You like that, don’t you?” he grunts, voice thick with desire. “You like rubbing yourself on your professor.”

“Yes,” I whimper in response, feeling the wetness between my legs grow more intense as I grind against him.

He slides his free hand up my thigh, inching closer to where I need him the most. His fingers brush against my slit, teasing me and making me gasp.

I tug against the restraint of my bound wrists, aching to touch him, to pull him to me, but the belt holds firm. A frustrated cry spills from my lips as his fingers continue their teasing exploration, hot breath fanning my neck.

“Please, Professor,” I whimper, the title a blend of respect and raw need.

He chuckles darkly, enjoying the sight of my desperation. “Keep going,” he orders, his voice like velvet and steel. “Show me how badly you want it.”

His fingers part my folds and delve inside me with a sudden thrust that makes me cry out in ecstasy. I arch my back, pushing my hips toward his touch. But just as quickly as he was there, he pulls his fingers away, smirking at the frustrated whimper that escapes my lips.

“No, Pet,” he murmurs. “I told you, you have to make yourself come.”

I can’t help but shiver at the touch, a surge of desire pulsing through my body. “Please,” I whisper, feeling the heat between us grow more electric.

“You know the rules.”

I bite back a groan of frustration, my hips moving with more urgency against his leg. Every movement sends jolts of pleasure through me, but it’s not enough. I want—no, need—more.

His eyes follow every motion, a dark hunger reflected in them. He’s close, I can tell by the way his breathing changes, growing heavier, more labored. A guttural groan is ripped from deep in his chest. Just as I think he’s about to come, he stops. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can form words, his hands shoot out, and he grabs my throat in a bruising grip.

“Faster. Ride my leg faster, Pet.”

My eyes widen, but I do as he says. I gyrate my hips faster, rubbing my wet pussy against him over and over. With the bruising grip it doesn’t take long before my orgasm washes over me.

My body shudders violently, my cries muffled by his unyielding hand. Waves of ecstasy crash over me, leaving me breathless and weak. He loosens his grip on my throat just enough for me to gasp for air, but he doesn’t release me completely.

“There’s a good pet,” he says, his voice thick with satisfaction. He leans in and captures my lips in a hard, possessive kiss, claiming what is his.

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