Page 40 of Hunted By Valentine

“Oh, God. Valentine… yes.”

Her eyes flutter closed as she reaches her peak. Red spots dance across her cheeks and neck. Her breathing intensifies, and she bites down on her lip to stop herself from crying out as she comes.

She looks so beautiful deep in the throes of passion. It’s almost impossible not to lean in and claim her lips. But I don’t. When she’s no longer shaking, I pull back, slowly loosening my grip on her throat, watching the disappointment flicker across her face. She wants more—needs more.

I release her entirely, stepping back, distancing myself from the magnetic pull that threatens to unravel everything. Then I bring my glistening fingers to my mouth and lick them clean.

“You taste better than I ever imagined,” I rasp.

She watches me lick her juices from my fingers, her mouth slightly parted. “I want to know what you taste like,” she says. She gestures at my obvious erection. “Let me help you with that, Professor.”

I chuckle and shake my head before glancing over at the crowd, seeing Jack watching us from across the room, a quiet warning in his eyes.

Without a word, I turn away from Ruby, feeling her gaze on my back as I walk toward the exit. I only stop long enough to get my coat. The night air is cold when I step outside, sharp and biting against my skin.

As I walk away from the event, I’m unable to shake the thought of her—the way she made me feel, and the taste of her that still lingers on my tongue. But I’ve trained myself not to care, not to let desire or emotions rule me.

Hailing a cab, I sit in the backseat, not for the first time wondering why I am the way I am. I know I’m far from normal, I’ve seen enough psychiatrists to know that I should keep my darker thoughts to myself.

I didn’t experience any trauma or neglect in my childhood, so my darkness wasn’t coaxed out by something as basic as that. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated with emotions, especially those I never felt myself. No, that’s not true—I feel them all. Just in a more detached sort of way.

The one I feel the strongest, the one that drives most of my decisions is curiosity.

Since I was fifteen or sixteen, I’ve wondered what it would be like to take a life. And when I was twenty, I found out.

I was out with my then-girlfriend when some lowlife tried to mug us. The details of what happened are murky at best. I somehow blacked out and didn’t come back until I found myself straddling the corpse of the man whose skull I’d bashed in against the pavement.

As it was self defense, I wasn’t charged with anything. In fact, I was hailed as a hero by the NYPD, my parents, and the girl I was dating.

That was the night the Hunter was born, and even though it took a lot of practice to hone my skills and turn it into a business, that’s exactly what I did. It all became a lot easier to let my darkness out when my parents died a couple of years later, leaving me without any living family to consider.

The driver’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “We’re here.” He sounds exasperated like he’s had to speak the words more than once before getting my attention.

Annoyed at myself for allowing my thoughts to derail me, I throw a hundred dollar bill at him and get out with a mumbled, “Thank you.”

Inside my loft, I grab a water from the fridge, denying myself the glass of red I really want. But no, wine might be the reason my thoughts are all over the place. It’s a let down that even after so many years spent carefully conditioning my mind to always stay sharp, I’m being let down by my own brain.

Huffing, I gulp down the water before I get ready for bed.

My loft is dark and quiet, the silence surrounding me like a shroud. I am lying on my back, my body sprawled across the bed. I don’t sleep with clothes on, and the cool sheets feel refreshing against my skin.

Rest doesn’t come easily. I shift, trying to find a comfortable position, but it’s impossible. My mind is elsewhere, my heart beating fast as my thoughts drift back to Ruby.

I will my arousal away, not wanting to acknowledge the way my cock is hardening at the thought of her. But my body doesn’t listen, the blood filling my length until there’s no denying the way I want her. My mouth waters at the thought of her taste. What would it be like to taste her for real? To slide my tongue into her?

My balls tighten as I imagine her moaning my name, and I grit my teeth as my cock twitches, pre-cum leaking from the tip.

A hiss of breath escapes me as I grip the bed, my body thrumming with need. I don’t want to give in to my desire. But with every second, my resolve weakens. As I close my eyes, it’s as if I can see her before me, her full lips parted as she came on my hand.

“Fuck!” My voice is a growl, and I feel my heart pick up speed. I know it’s a losing battle, and I hate it. I hate that I can’t resist her, hate how she consumes my thoughts. And I hate how she makes me feel this desperate need for her. It’s a hunger that can’t be sated, a primal need that overrides everything else.

Angry with my lack of control, I wrap my hand around my cock, squeezing the base as I start jerking off. With every stroke, I imagine it’s Ruby touching me, Ruby who’s kneeling before me, her lips wrapped around my cock. I groan at the image, my hold on my control slipping as I pump my hand faster.

The bed dips as I move, my body tensing as I chase my release. My orgasmbuilds, and I grit my teeth as I fight to hold back. But it’s no use. My desire for Ruby is too strong, and it pushes me over the edge. With a final stroke, I come, my seed spilling over my hand and onto my stomach.

My body shudders with the force of my release, and I dig my fingers into the sheets, needing to ground myself. I’m panting, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. But even as the last tremors of my orgasm fade, there’s no peace. My body might be sated, but my mind is still consumed with thoughts of Ruby.

As I lie in the dark, I feel the unresolved tension coiling inside me, and I know this moment has only deepened my obsession with her. And as much as I hate it, I know there’s no escaping it. Ruby has me in her grasp, and I don’t think I’ll ever be free of her.

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