Page 51 of Hunted, Season Three

“Fuckin’ give her that paintjob,” grunts Sir in tandem with his own thrusting becoming more erratic.“I wanna see our filthy, fucking whore in white long before our wedding day.”

His words crashing into her screams that are echoed by her perpetually pulsing pussy convince me to let go.

Bellow.

Bark.

Bellow again to the point my lungs burn while blistering bursts bury themselves in her deepest depths.

The kicking of my dick, naturally tightens every muscle in my body causing my ass to relentlessly clench down on his cock, milking it, the way she’s milking me.“Fuckkkkkkk,” is attached to an unexpected hand being curled around my throat and his forehead resting against the nape of my neck.“Take that shit like a good, little, filthy fuck.” Cum suddenly begins to spread past my ass cheeks.“Take that shit just like you’re gonna take my last fuckin’ name.”

Chapter 11

Bunny

Why is man ring shopping so fucking hard?

Seriously.

There’s no reason this shit should be this difficult.

Or maybe it’s not?

Maybe it’s just that shopping forourman a ring is difficult.

Which doesn’t make sense.

He himself is quite a simple creature.

His personality spreadsheet is probably the easiest I’ve ever navigated.

He loves beer – lighter in the fall, darker in the winter.

Loves to build – more things for the home than shit under the hood I’m learning.

Loves food –grillingor just eating are both acceptable options but baking is not.

And lastly – however not least – fucking.

And I meanfucking, not “making love”.

That’s not his preferred anything…ever.

He loves being the one to fuck or being the one fucked or even watching us fuck but he doesnotcare for slow and gentle and stretched out softness during sex.

I’ll admit it though.

It is sweet watching him try that shit for Kid.

Me.

I honestly think I need it less than him, but what matters is that we alltryto provide one another with what they want versus just ourselves.

Which is an impressive feat considering there are three people’s feelings to constantly be sorting through.

Light grumbles begin to my left prompting me to redirect my attention away from my phone to where Kid is stirring awake beside me.The sight of him giving his unkempt, black hair its usual morning ruffle effortlessly pulls a crooked grin to my face.

Mutt is simple; however, Kid is not.

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