Page 73 of Hunt

“Riley,” I tried to interrupt, but she kept ranting about me being a fraudster, manipulator, and many other adjectives.

“Why the name Rourke?” she repeated.

“Mickey Rourke,” I answered when she fell silent to breathe before ranting some more. This was a fabulous way to divert the conversation from my objective. It’s as if she knew what I was trying to do.

“Who’s that?” she asked as if it was important.

“An actor…actually, he’s a bit of a creep these days, so it was a poor choice for a name, and I only used it because Mikky and Mickey, anyway that besides the point,” I argued back as my phone beeped, so I glanced at my screen to see who it was: Danny Lam.

I’d briefly forgotten that I’d messaged him. With one hand on the steering wheel, I opened his message.

“Mickey and Mikky?” she repeated, confused, still not understanding my logic.

Lam: Sorry, I didn’t inform you sooner. KaterinaIvanov.

“Huh?” I grunted in surprise.

“Bad news?” Riley, or should I say, Annika, asked.

“No,” I replied, as it was taking me a few moments to digest this new information.

I couldn’t let on that it was revealing information about her, so I swiped off my phone and fell silent as she continued talking. The girl who kept turning up unexpectedly wherever I went was an Ivanov? The girl who supplied Riley with a fake ID and a gun was an Ivanov. The Russians. Our enemies. And that frail-looking, socially awkward girl was an Ivanov.

Well, well, well, what did we have here? That changed everything. I shut my mouth on the topic of finding out if she was Annika because I needed advice from Ronan and Mikky about this. It seemed like a collaboration between the Russians, the Larsson cops, and Riley. And we had her in the club where we wanted her, under our noses, while they were plotting and scheming.

Who was fooling whom now?

“Gunner? Gunner, are you alright?” I had no idea what expression was on my face, but she seemed very concerned when she looked at me.

I pulled up on the side of the road next to a line of stores, and she gazed out the window, probably searching for a café. No, no, there isn’t one.

“Why have you-”

“Take your pants off,” I ordered her as she frowned in confusion. “Now.”

“Why?” she swallowed nervously.

“Because I’m fuck you. That’s why? Hurry up,” I demanded as I unzipped my jeans and flipped my cock.

“People will see us,” she gasped.

“No, they won’t,” I snarled. “Dark windows. Hurry up. Get your pants off and climb in my cock. And I don’t want to hear any buts or excuses.”

She bit her lip, then leaned back and pushed her pants and panties down, so she was completely bare, and I slipped my hand between her legs to feel how wet she was, and she sighed, tensing up even at my soft touch.

I flipped my seat back and lay back as her hand found my cock and started playing with the head, before stroking me. My hand claimed the back of her head, under her hair, and I pushed her face down over my hardness, and she opened her sweet mouth, taking all of me in.

As her wet, warm mouth moved up and down over my length, I played with butt cheeks, finding her tight hole again, slipping my finger inside. “I’m gonna fuck that hole one day. Not today, because I want your pussy.”

People walked by as her bare as was in the air and her succulent mouth over my cock, but I didn’t care and neither did she. As pressure started to build in my cock with urge to release, I grabbed a hunk of her hair and pulled her off me, then slapped backside.

“Get on,” I directed. “I want you facing the steering wheel, so your ass is practically in my face.”

She said nothing and did as I told her, like a good girl, even though she was far from good. She was very bad on many levels. This position seemed new to her because she struggled to get comfortable, but her comfort was not my problem.

Finally, her wet hole found my cock and she slid down, all of me inside her and then began riding me like a fucking badass that she was. Her hands clamped down on the steering wheel to support her as she leaned forward, and I rammed myself into her. Repeatly, bouncing that ass on my lap, while her sighing and gasping was like music to my ears. She might be a deceptive little nymph, but at least I made her scream, turning into butter.

We bounced together as the car rocked, and she covered her mouth as her sighs and pants grew louder. People continued to walk by and some of them looked at curiously at the rocking Mustang, I wasn’t going to stop until I shot my cum into her sweet pussy.

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