Page 92 of Hunted, Season Three

Slides down to cup my balls through my boxers, the only piece of clothing I happen to be wearing.

“You won’t be doin’ the movin’.”Working my dick through the slit is swiftly executed before I can even consider an alternative.“At least not this time.”

In one fluid motion, Nolan leans over and swallows me whole, engulfing my shaft in wet, hot heat that instantly has me melting into the mattress on a garbled, “Ffffffuuuucccck…”

Aches thrum notably around my ribs, but they’re new car easy to ignore.

Especially when my fiancé slides me back further.

Lets his throat ruthlessly constrict around my cock.

Chokes.

Gargles.

Gurgles.

Creates a symphony so depraved I can’t stop myself from shoving his head down to increase the volume of his deliriously, delicious strangling sounds.

Threading my fingers through his hair not only allows me to yank him upward, granting him air, but forces him back to the brink where the only thing he can taste and breathe and think about isme.

Power – unexpected power – shoots through my grip that’s guiding him up and down.

Up and down.

Faster.

Harder.

Harsher.

Regardless of the piercing pangs building in my side, there’s no stopping my hips from jerking upward.

Meeting my savage shoves.

Controlling the uneven rate at which he gags.

Gasps.

“Now, who’s the filthy fuck, Sir?”leaves me between hisses and unrelenting bucks.“The greedy, little fuckin’ whore?” My stare becomes heavy.Hooded.“You wanna swallow for me?” Spit spews past the stretched corners of his mouth, rushing for his neck where I can literally see my cock cutting off his ability to speak.“You wanna be my fuckin’ cum dumpster?” Contorting my toes is followed by the tightening of my calves.And thighs.My ass cheeks.“Huh?” I continue to mercilessly bob his head in between banging my own against the hard piece of furniture.“Is that what you fuckin’ want?” From volume to boorishness, everything increases, exponentially.“Be a good, old fuck and let me see that shit on your tongue.” It’s impossible to stop my balls from clapping in approval or my shaft from swelling in surrender when I yank him back.“Let me see that shit on your face.” The first scorching spurt that shoots out is accompanied by a gritted teeth grunt; however, the next, the one that lands on his mouth rather than in it, freely escapes into the air as I crazily watch cum ceaselessly cover his chin and cheeks and eventually his stretched-out tongue.Between seeing so much white and feeling so little stress, I find myself mindlessly muttering, “Fffuuuuckkkkk, I love you, Nolan…”

I expect him to repeat it.

Not shove his tongue into my mouth.

Not leave me no choice in tasting myself.

Needy and greedy and feral groans rattle my chest as our tongues whirl around one another restoring the balance of power.

Sanity.

Peace.

“That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in real life,” a voice unexpectedly states, successfully infiltrating the moment.In tandem our faces turn to where Garcia is leaning against the doorframe.“Respectfully.”

“You couldn’trespectfullyfucking knock?”I bitterly bite while trying to shove my dick back into my boxers.

“I did.”He lets the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement.“Twice.”

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