Page 37 of The Devil's Hunt

"Faster," I begged, my voice wavering.

He moved his thumb faster, his teeth grazing my shoulder. I felt the pressure building inside me, his fingers thrusting inside me at a fevered pace. I was on the verge of falling over the edge, and he drove me closer, his thumb moving faster, harder, rubbing relentlessly against my clit. My stomach clenched, and my pussy squeezed around his fingers, pulling them deeper into me. Pleasure pooled within me, gathering until I could feel it shuddering through my veins like wildfire.

"Come for me, baby."

My orgasm ripped through me before I could stop it, and I cameshouting his name. My muscles quivered, and my legs shook, his fingers still inside me. I struggled to catch my breath, his body pressing against me, trapping me against the floor. I looked up at him, his eyes on fire.

"You're mine, Mila. Say it."

My voice was a whisper in the dark. "I'm yours."

14

FOURTEEN

MILA

"When did you get back?" I asked anxiously as I trailed behind him.

"Just now."

He flicked on the light in my room, his figure consumed by black from head to toe. Even his face had smeared black camouflage paint all over it.

"Where the hell did you go dressed like that?" I questioned him, trying to hide the fear in my voice.

"I had something to take care of in the city," he replied coldly before brushing me off and stripping off his clothes without a second thought.

I watched as his blood-soaked garments hit the floor. The crimson stains smeared across his neck and face giving him an otherworldly appearance. My mind raced with questions. "Whose blood is that?" I finally managed to choke out.

He ignored me and continued undressing. When he headed toward the bathroom, I followed.

I found myself lingering in the doorway, my curiosity overriding any sense of self-preservation. The white tiles were stark against thedim lighting, accentuating the contrast between his darkened figure and the crimson stains that marred his skin.

"Seriously, whose blood is that?" I demanded again, unable to contain my growing concern.

He sighed heavily, an air of weariness hanging around him like a shroud. With a hint of reluctance, he turned to face me, the harsh overhead light casting eerie shadows across his features.

"It's none of your business," he said cryptically.

Stepping closer, I reached out tentatively to touch his forearm. "Tell me," I demanded. "Whose blood is that, Archer? Did you kill someone with that knife you just used on me? What happened? I don't hear from you for four days, and then you show up covered in someone else's blood and want to hold out on the details?"

In a blink of an eye, he was on me.

He moved fast.

Faster than I could have anticipated.

Crushing me against the bathroom wall with a force that knocked the wind out of me. A picture fell off its hook and shattered on the unforgiving tile floor. His body was against mine, and I stared into his eyes, the darkness within them mirroring the chaos swirling in my mind.

"Listen carefully," he hissed through clenched teeth, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "I told you, it's none of your concern. If you want to be with me, you mind your business.”

Struggling to speak, I managed to gasp out a plea. "Archer, please...you're hurting me."

For a moment, I saw a flicker of regret ripple across his face as if he were battling an internal struggle. But it quickly vanished, replaced by a mask of cold indifference.

"I warned you not to pry," he growled.

Archer's cold eyes never left me as he calmly undressed and stepped into the shower. I stood there, feeling the sting of tears pricking my eyes.

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