Page 24 of Make Me Hunt
Lately, I feel like I’m tormenting myself, testing my limits, or more likely, letting her test my limits on a daily basis. I don’t know what the fuck happened to holding back. There’s just something about her that shuts my brain off, makes me forget every psychological trick up my sleeve. I feel like I’m losing my damn mind, and she’s the one holding it hostage.
But I also know I set her up to fail. There was a fifty-fifty chance she’d get to 404. He’s as slippery as a snake, but just as easily swayed by a pretty face. Honestly, I didn’t expect her to find him at all. I was just craving an excuse to punish her for it.
Though what I got in return was so much sweeter than I ever could’ve imagined. I’ve had all kinds of women. Fragile, innocent, depraved, strong, some of them even merciless. But she’s different from anyone else. Different in ways I can’t explain. Like a veil drops over my eyes every time I’m around her. And as much as all my defense instincts kick in, I fight them back. All I want is her, no matter what that would mean. No matter what that would cost, because I feel there’s no limit to my madness when it comes to her.
But what fucking scares me the most is that I haven’t even had a proper taste of her yet.
What will happen when I do?
What power will she have over me then?
Holding her in my arms, her round ass pressed against my cock, her voice moaning at the touch of my fingers. I haven’t been this turned on in ages, maybe even centuries.
But that’s not the main problem.
The main problem is, it’s not just physical.
I could have gotten over a pretty face, a nice pair of tits, or whatever it is that could’ve made her just another distraction. I’ve had a taste of all of that, countless times in countless women.
But with her, everything is different.
It’s a connection I can’t explain. Electrical, magnetic, maybe even celestial, like the universe finally conspired and handcrafted someone by my specific instructions.
I rub my index and middle fingers against my palm, remembering the sweet sensation of her juices on them. And how I was barely able to stop myself from taking the rest of her right then.
She’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever known, the power hiding beneath her innocent beauty, the wild sparks inside her, even as she was trying to fight me. Though for a moment, I suspected she wasn’t fighting me at all, but her own nightmares. The fear of being controlled. Maybe even the fear of someone having this kind of power over her.
Still, losing myself in a distraction, even as potent as her, is something I can’t afford. Halloween is closing in, and I have to get my shit together if I want everything to stay on schedule.
404 isn’t the only hacker who works for me. I’ve got a few others on my team, though none as skilled as him. That’s why I needed him back. Still, the others were sharp enough to figure out he was skipping town after info leaked on a dark web chat, where he refused to hook up with some local admirer, telling her he wouldn’t be around for long.
I had the same hackers who got info on 404 put together a file on Brynn. I need to know everything about her—where she grew up, what schools she attended, friends, enemies, and anything that can surface on social media. I need to know why her mind fought me when her body craved to obey.
But to my surprise, my hackers came up empty. Aside from the past two and a half years, Brynn didn’t exist. Most of the data in her employment file was fabricated by an extremely skilled tech mercenary who used to work in town. I wanted to pay him a visit, see what he knew about her, but my hacker told me he died six months ago. Another fuckingdeadend.
Who the fuck are you, Brynn?
I know better than to push her for answers. To the untrained eye, her present is as convincing as anyone else’s.
I can’t confront her about her past yet, not without risking her lying to me about it. If she fought this hard to cover her tracks, then she won’t let whatever she’s hiding—or whatever she’s running from—surface that easily.
Besides, I suspect it was something traumatic, judging by the way she lost it in my arms the other night. And I want to build something with her, not break her—even if, in the end, I might be forced to do just that. Break her, just to rebuild her as mine.
I press my hacker for anything about her. I already have her address, but that’s not enough. I need to know what brought her to me.
Is she just hiding from her past? Is this about money or power? Or is it something else that drives her on?
After a full day's work—something that 404 would’ve done in less than thirty minutes—my other hacker finally cracks her phone. I swear, if I started learning coding in the morning, I would’ve finished faster. That’s exactly why I need that stupid bastard back.
At least he gets me an app that duplicates her WhatsApp, uploading all her saved data—including previous conversations—for me to access.
The data is still coming through, but I soon realize she doesn’t have any friends. All I find from the last six months is food delivery texts, a few short conversations with Silver, and a delivery status from nastythoughts.com. I immediately pull up her order to see what kind of sex toys she likes. Because that site sounds interesting enough to explore.
I’m slightly disappointed when I see her order sheet and realize it’s a lingerie store. That net bra she had on, along with a matching pair of panties—which I regret not checking out now—and half a dozen sexy thigh-high stockings.
I put that on the list of her likes and dislikes. And scrolling through the site, it quickly becomes my list of likes. I make a mental note to order a few things from there for her, especially now that I know her exact size, thanks to the order sheet, and have them delivered to my house.
By the time I’m finished checking out the site, the rest of our conversations have loaded, and even though none of the texts from the previous week pique my interest, a couple of very interesting ones from the night before do.
