Page 49 of Hunting Harbor

"Let me come," I beg. "I need to come. Please."

His movements become more purposeful, more direct. The toy presses deeper, his fingers circle faster, and his voice drops to a growl: "Come for me. Now."

The command breaks something loose inside me. The climax crashes through my body like a tidal wave, obliterating everything in its path. I scream, actually scream, as my entire body convulses. It goes on and on, pleasure so intense it borders on pain, wave after wave washing over me until I'm limp and trembling, weeping openly, completely undone.

Through the haze of aftershocks, I feel Kairo withdraw the toy carefully, feel the mattress shift as he moves to untie the blindfold. He gently flips me onto my back. Light floods my vision, blurry through tears, and his face comes into focus above me. His expression is one I've never seen before… possessive satisfaction mixed with something that might be awe.

He cradles my face in his hands, thumbs wiping away tears. "I love it when you're such a good girl for me," he whispers against my ear, and the words sink into me like a brand, claiming me from the inside out.

I’m so lose in the haze I hardly take note of the fact he didn’t even come. It strikes me that the monster I thought he was, was really just a man driven by dominance so powerfully, thathe would quite literally hunt me if that’s how it took for me to surrender to what he wants to give. His mouth finds mine and he kisses me with such love, I could swear he was a completely different man.

I realize in this moment that I've crossed a point of no return. This wasn't just sex, just kink, just experimentation. This was submission on a level I didn't know was possible. I should be terrified by how completely I've given myself over to him, by how much I crave his control, his approval.

Instead, I feel a strange sense of rightness, of belonging. Like I've found a piece of myself I didn't know was missing until he showed it to me. It's terrifying and perfect all at once.

Kairo works at the knots binding my wrists, his fingers deft and sure. When the rope finally falls away, I can't help the small gasp that escapes me as blood rushes back into my hands, bringing pins and needles in its wake. He massages my wrists gently, thumbs pressing into the indentations left by the rope. The marks are already purpling, and I'll wear his bruises as bracelets for days. The thought sends a fresh pulse of heat through me, even as my body still trembles from the aftershocks of my climax.

"On your knees," Kairo commands, his voice softer now but no less authoritative.

My limbs feel like jelly, but I comply, letting him guide me until I'm on all fours, then push me down until my face is pressed against the cool sheets, ass in the air. I should feel exposed,vulnerable, ridiculous even, but all I feel is a strange sense of peace—like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

"Perfect," he murmurs, trailing a finger down my spine, making me shiver.

Time feels suspended, stretched into a moment that could last forever.

In this stillness, I acknowledge to myself what I've been circling around all night: I've made my choice. It terrifies me—how completely I've surrendered, how deeply I crave not just the pleasure but the pain, the control, the submission. I've chosen him. I've chosen this life. Whatever that means, whatever comes next, I'm all in.

As if reading my thoughts, Kairo leans over me, his chest warm against my back, his lips at my ear. "You're mine now," he whispers, not a question but a statement of fact. "Say it."

"I'm yours," I breathe, and the truth of it settles into my bones like it's always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.

His lips find my shoulder, pressing a kiss so gentle it almost feels out of place after the intensity of before. But then his teeth graze my skin, nipping sharply enough to make me gasp, and the contrast makes perfect sense. That's what he is—tenderness and cruelty intertwined so completely that one enhances rather than diminishes the other.

Kairo works his way down my body with methodical patience, alternating between soft kisses and sharp bites that will leave a constellation of marks across my shoulders and back. Each nip sends a jolt straight between my legs, rekindling the fire he so recently extinguished. It shouldn't be possible to want him again so soon, but my body disagrees, arching back into his touch, seeking more.

"Insatiable," he comments, satisfaction evident in his voice as his hand slides between my thighs, finding me still slick and swollen. "You just can't get enough, can you?"

I shake my head against the sheets, beyond words, beyond shame. He's right. I can't get enough. I doubt I ever will.

His fingers slip inside me with practiced ease, curling to find that spot that makes my vision blur. My hips rock back instinctively, taking him deeper, chasing the building pressure. With his other hand, he grips my hair, pulling my head back until my spine arches like a bow.

"Look at you," he says, his voice thick with appreciation. "Made for this. Made for me."

His words wash over me, through me, becoming part of the pleasure building under his skilled fingers. When he adds a third finger, stretching me further, I cry out, not in pain but in unexpected bliss. My sensitized nerves sing with overstimulation that somehow circles back to pleasure.

"That's it," he encourages as I rock back harder against his hand. "Take what you need."

The pressure builds rapidly, my body already primed and desperate. When his thumb finds my clit, circling with just the right pressure, I shatter again, clenching around his fingers as pleasure rolls through me in waves. This orgasm is different from the last—less explosive but deeper somehow, spreading outward from my core until even my fingertips tingle with it.

Before I can fully recover, Kairo turns me over and pulls me up, lifting me effortlessly onto his lap. His mouth finds mine in a kiss that's more possession than passion, claiming me as thoroughly with his lips as he has with everything else. I respond with equal hunger, my arms winding around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. I can taste myself on his tongue, and the intimacy of it makes me moan into his mouth.

"I need to be inside you," he growls against my lips. "Now."

"Yes," I breathe, the word more plea than permission.

He shifts his grip on my thighs, lifting me higher before lowering me slowly onto his cock. The stretch is exquisite, my body still sensitive from everything that came before. I gasp as he fills me completely, my head falling back as he rocks into me.

Kairo sets a relentless pace, each thrust driving the air from my lungs. I cling to him desperately, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving marks of my own.

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