Page 82 of Hunted By Valentine

Both from pleasure, but also from happiness and pride that he wants me enough to fulfill my fantasy. It’s not as though I doubt that he has feelings for me, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t nice to have it confirmed.

The thought is powerful, almost as strong as the relentless intensity in each thrust. His groans, heavy and guttural, contrast sharply with the refined demeanor he usually displays.

“Did you like my little game, Pet?” he groans, his voice dripping with lust. “Was the hunt everything you wanted?”

I want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Of him, the Hunter, fulfilling a fantasy that only exists because I know his real identity. A part of me, the one that isn’t focused on the delicious way his cock hits the magic spot inside me, latches on to his words and the double meaning behind them.

Maybe I should tell him that I know who he is, but I don’t want to. It’s a secret I’ll take to the grave, possibly even keep from him.

“I know you did,” he growls, answering his own question.

His words ignite a strange mix of emotions within me as the forceful way he takes me awakens something deep inside. As he moves my legs so they’re around his waist, changing the angle of his entry, I’m unable to stifle my moan at the intensity of the sensation.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, his breath hot against my ear as he fucks me harder.

I try to answer him, I really do. But as his cock continues to fill me, I’m unable to form words. So I lift my hips, meeting him every time he drivesinto me.

“Say it,” he growls, his grip tightening on my hips as he forces himself deeper into me.

“I-I want this,” I cry, exhilarated by the admission.

Valentine smirks, pleased with my admittance. “Good Pet,” he rasps. Then he closes his mouth around my breast, the one he stabbed. He sucks and licks, and when he removes his mouth and looks at me, I see my blood on his lips.

I’m barely able to process what I’m seeing before he grabs my shoulders and pulls my upper body up. Wrapping one arm around me, he supports my weight while he uses the other to reach for… an arrow. Oh! So that’s what I was hearing, arrows flying through the air.

Of course the Hunter has a bow and arrows.

He uses the metal tip to file through the rope around my wrists. As soon as my arms are free, I feel pins and needles shoot up the entire length, and I absentmindedly rub my hands together. But while I’m trying to make sure my feeling is back, he flips me over onto my hands and knees, taking me from behind with a savage ferocity that leaves me gasping.

“You’re mine now,” he growls, his hand running possessively over my back.

“Valentine, please,” I pant, my vision blurring with the intensity of our coupling. “I need more.”

“Then beg for it,” he commands, his voice dark and dangerous.

“Please, fuck me harder.”

Slamming into me with renewed vigor, he drives me closer to the edge of ecstasy. The storm of emotions within me builds to a fever pitch, threatening to consume me entirely. He moves behind me, and just as I get close to the edge, I feel his hot breath on my shoulder only seconds before his teeth close around my flesh.

“Yes!” I undulate my hips faster while doing my best not to sag or lose my balance.

The orgasm that washes over me puts every other orgasm to shame. My vision distorts, and I’m vaguely aware I’m screaming his name.

Valentine continues to fill me, chasing his own release with snarls as thoughhe’s angry about it. “Fucking love this cunt.”

I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of seeing this side of him; the one where I’m reducing him to primal words rather than the refined and controlled ones he usually uses.

“You’re mine, and no one else’s,” Valentine growls, his grip on my hips tightening. “My. Pet.”

With a roar, he sheaths himself completely inside me, and I feel his hot cum spurting across my inner walls.

A moan that’s one hundred percent feminine pride bursts out of my mouth. “That’s so sexy,” I pant. I yelp as he bites me again, but despite the pain, my clit throbs.

Before I register the sound, I freeze. Then it’s there again, the distant sound of footsteps, and a branch crunching. “Valentine?” I whisper frantically, my eyes wide with panic.

Chapter 32

The Hunter

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