Page 49 of Demon Hunter

Love rushes up to compete with lust. How can it not, when Matt’s expression is so full of his adoration for me? “I love you,” I whisper, rising onto my knees and shifting so the head of his dick slides between my cheeks.

He makes a choking noise when it catches on the rim of my hole. “Love you, Dyl. So, so much.”

I lower myself slowly onto him, savoring every millimeter, every second… so much, it’s not until I’m fully seated that I realize he’s not touching me.

Oh, he’s inside me, filling me almost to the point of discomfort, my inner thighs pressed to his hips. But… he’s gothis hands clasped behind his neck. And judging by the tension in his arms, he’s making a considerable effort to keep them there.

For a moment, I stay frozen, not understanding. This… this isn’t my Matt. Matt’s affectionate. Matt’s passionate. Matt can’t keep his hands off me. Sex with Matt is active and sweaty, andbossy. He moves me around, hetouches me. His hands are constantly sliding over my skin, squeezing my ass, gripping my hips. Matt’s tactile.

Matt doesn’t lie there like he’d rather be anywhere else.

You’re imagining it.I swallow down my sudden fear even as my cock flags a little. This is probably just stress—for both of us. We’ve had sex since the attack, but things have gotten a little fraught since then, with more time passing and no answers. Maybe he’s not really in the mood… mentally, not physically, since I can more than feel how ready his dick is.

“Hey.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “Um, if you’re not… If you don’t want to do this, we can just?—”

“Are you kidding?” He sucks in a shaky breath. “Dylan, I’m dying. If you want to stop, I’ll stop, but god, believe me—there’s nothing I want more right now than you. This.” The sincerity in his voice and face are impossible to ignore, so I push aside the voice that tells me something’s still not right. Matt wants me. I want him. We’ve been together like this a million times. Of course it’s right.

I lean down, making us both gasp as the movement draws me off him, and kiss his beautiful mouth. He kisses me back eagerly, but still his hands don’t move from behind his head. They don’t come around to cradle my face or delve into my hair. To grasp my hips and push me back onto his cock.

That’s okay, though. If he wants hands-free sex, that’s totally his call.

I straighten and begin fucking myself on his shaft, rising and falling in a steady rhythm, slowly increasing the pace until we’reboth whining with need, then slowing, bringing things down a notch.

Still, Matt doesn’t touch me.

Suddenly, it feels wrong. This isn’t how we are—not how it’s supposed to be. It doesn’t matter that I can see the need and love on his face, hear it in the words he mutters… this lack of real contact between us makes me feel like I’m fucking a stranger, not the man I want to spend my life with.

I pick up speed again, just wanting this over. Maybe we’re both tired. The weekend was a lot, and we’ve got plenty on our minds. This wasn’t the time.

Reaching behind me, I stroke Matt’s sac, brushing my fingers against the sensitive skin even as I fuck myself hard onto his cock. It takes only a few thrusts like that to send him over the edge, and while he’s coming, I jerk myself off. I don’t really want to anymore, but he’ll feel bad if I don’t come, and I just want this to end.

Before Matt can see how bruised my heart is.

Chapter 21

Matt

There issomething seriously wrong with me.

I can’t deny it any longer. I can’t explain it away or make excuses. Something’s happened to me, and I’m terrified.

I think… I think I’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider.

Notliterally, of course. I’m not Spider-Man. Thank fuck, because web shooting out of my wrists at inconvenient moments would be super awks. But I’ve got some kind of superpowers.

God, it sounds insane. MaybeI’minsane. Maybe that’s what this is. The doctors all agreed that I didn’t have head trauma, but they could have been wrong. They could have missed something that’s causing me to have hallucinations where I can hear, see, and smell things I shouldn’t be able to and my strength is superhuman.

That would be one hell of a hallucination, though. I don’t think most people hallucinate yanking the knob off a drawer that sticks. It’spossiblethat the knob was going to come off anyway, since it does get yanked a lot, but it just didn’t feel like I was pulling that hard. Honestly, I forgot that was the drawer that sticks until Dyl walked in, saw me with the knob in my hand, and said it was bound to happen one day.

Or… what if the head trauma was serious? Like, this isn’t a hallucination—it’s a coma dream. I’m still lying in the hospital in Reno, my family at my bedside as they pray for me to wake up, and meanwhile my brain’s created an alternate life for me where I got healed and developed superpowers.

I honestly don’t know which of these scenarios is worse, but it’s freaking me the fuck out, and Dylan’s starting to notice. The last few days, he’s been shooting me worried looksall the timeand asking if I’m okay. I’m a shitty liar—always have been—and I don’t know how long I can hide this from him.

Because he can’t find out. If I’m in a coma dream, telling my dream-boyfriend that he’s not real and our life isn’t real isn’t going to make the dream a happy one. What if shattering it like that lands me in some kind of nightmare? Orworse—what if dream-Dylan leaves me because he thinks I’m trying to scare him off, and then I have to live my coma-dream life without him?

Fuck no. If I’m in a coma, I want to be in a happy one.

If I’m hallucinating because of head trauma… well, that’s the best outcome. He’d be worried, and it would create some problems with getting treatment, since the rest of me is all healed up when it shouldn’t be, but at least that’s something that we can address. Maybe even fix.

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