Page 58 of The Devil's Hunt

Iwas still tangled in Archer's embrace when the sun came up. He was snoring softly, with one arm behind his head and the other around my waist. I slowly sat up and watched him sleep.

He was beautiful.

An enigma.

A dangerous creature, both tender and cruel, full of love and hunger.

The hunger kept me awake, the pulsing mass between his legs semi-erect and fucking beautiful.

I bit my lip to curb the urge to reach out and stroke the soft skin of his sensitive cock, an indescribable pleasure. I was content to savor the memory of his body pressed against mine, the sensation of his tongue delving into my core, his fingers exploring and touching every inch of my body.

I admired his beauty, taking in the tattoos that covered his body. Some were intricate, others simple, but each one held a story, a memory. My fingers glided over the delicate lines of the hand across his throat and the tortured faces that spread across his collarbone, the flames licking and flickering across his skin. Each one seemed to tell a story—his story, the life he lived—on his skin. They were like amap of his soul, the same way my body was a canvas for his touch, a vessel for his possessiveness. Each tattoo reminded me of the man he was, the man I had fallen for.

He stirred slightly, his hand stealing up to my thigh, gently caressing the curve. His eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing that deep green that held secrets I was dying to unravel. I looked into his eyes, clouded with sleep, and I knew that there was nothing I wouldn't do for this man. And I believed him when he said he would kill for me. He looked at me, a slow smirk playing on his lips.

"Good morning."

"Morning," I murmured, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. His touch was addictive, and I craved more.

"I'm wondering why that sweet pussy of yours isn’t bouncing up and down on my cock right now."

I blushed at his words, my breathing picking up a notch as heat flooded between my legs. "I have to go to class."

"Boring." His hand slid up my thigh, his fingers brushing the folds of my sex.

I couldn't help but moan softly at his touch. "If you keep touching me like that, I'll never go back to school. I'll stay here in bed all day and night with you."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." His eyes gleamed with mischief, and his voice was thick with lust.

"It's anything but. However, not all of us can not attend class and still pass."

Archer chuckled, sitting up and pulling me close. Our lips met in a slow and passionate kiss, and he ran his hands roughly over my bare back, leaving goosebumps in his wake. "You're right," he murmured against my lips, his voice low and husky. "I guess education is important. Get dressed. We don't want to be late."

"You're actually going today?" I feigned surprise.

"I wouldn't miss watching my girl school all the other students with her intelligence."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the flush that spread across my cheeks. I pulled away from him, slowly getting out of bed andwalking into my closet to grab my clothes, ignoring the lingering sensation of my sore nipples and the ache between my legs. As I entered the bedroom, Archer was already dressed, his tattoos peeking out of his shirt. I grabbed my bag, slid my laptop inside, and followed him out front where his motorcycle was waiting.

I loved being on the back of his bike, my arms wrapped around his tight muscles. He helped me onto the seat, careful with my leg, and then we were off, weaving in and out of traffic, with the wind whistling in my ears. The sound of the engine was like music vibrating through my body, and I felt alive. My heart pounded in my chest thinking about how my life had changed in the past couple of weeks. Archer was a dangerous man, but the way he touched me, the way he claimed me, made me feel alive in a way that I never thought was possible for me.

We pulled up to the school, and I slipped off the bike, my legs shaking from the adrenaline surge. I looked at Archer, who was a sight to behold in his dark leather jacket and sunglasses.

"Come here, baby," he gestured for me to grab his hand.

I intertwined my fingers in his and let him walk me to class. I saw the way girls looked at him—their eyes lit up with desire and envy—and I felt a sense of possessiveness. He was a god among mortals, and my normal everyday existence before him was a blur. Archer's hand tightened around mine, and he whispered in my ear, "I see no one but you."

I leaned into him, feeling the heat of his body against mine and the soft leather of his jacket. We made it to our lit class just as the bell rang. Professor Hazel eyed me curiously as he watched me take a seat, Archer sitting next to me. I pretended not to notice, giving him a small smile and opening my laptop.

Archer's body tensed next to mine. Nothing escaped his watchful eye. A trait that I found endearing and intimidating.

"Good morning, class. I hope you all had a chance to complete your reading of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. Today, we will discuss the characters' motivations and the themes of love, obsession, and revenge in the novel. Does anyone remember the passage whereHeathcliff declares his love for Catherine and the lengths he will go to to possess her? Feel free to share your thoughts and insights with the class."

I swallowed hard as I looked around the room to see if anyone would speak. Archer leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Your turn to play the lead, sweetheart. Let them see what you're made of."

I raised my hand, my nerves jangling as his hand found mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Yes, Mila." Professor Hazel's eyes found mine, and he smiled, almost relieved that it was me who raised my hand.

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