Page 27 of Hunt Me
“Because you’re thinking about me.” His grip tightens, stroking faster. “I bet you’re thinking about my cock splitting you open while my hands pin your wrists to the mattress. My teeth on your throat while I fuck you so hard you forget every smart-ass comment you’ve ever made.”
The image shatters something in me. I thrust the dildo deeper, matching the brutal pace of his hand on screen. My clit throbs under the vibrator’s relentless pressure.
“Come for me.” His words are a command, not a request. “Let me watch you break.”
The orgasm hits like a system crash—sudden, devastating, total loss of control. I cry out, legs shaking as waves of pleasure obliterate every coherent thought.
Through the haze, I watch Alexi’s hand move faster, rougher. His head tips back, throat exposed, muscles tense.
“Watch me.” His voice is gravel. “Watch me come thinking about filling that perfect cunt.”
I should look away. Should close the feed. Should?—
His cock pulses, thick ropes of cum painting his stomach, his hand. The sight is obscene. Primal. Something I shouldn’t find hot but absolutely do.
“Look at it.” He strokes himself through the aftershocks, spreading the mess across his skin. “Next time, this is going inside you. Going to pump you so full of my cum you’ll feel it for days.”
Reality crashes back in with brutal clarity.
What the fuck am I doing?
Horror floods through me, cold and sharp. I just masturbated for Alexi Ivanov. Let him watch me fall apart. Let him see me lose control.
“There won’t be a next time,” I say, voice shaking.
His eyes lock on the camera, dark and satisfied. “We both know that’s a lie.”
“Don’t look for me.” My hands scramble for the laptop. “Don’t contact me. Don’t?—”
“Too late, sweetheart. I’ve already seen everything.”
I slam the laptop shut hard enough that I hear the screen crack. When I open it back up, my reflection stares back from the darkened monitor—flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, hair a mess.
Not me. This isn’t me.
I yank my yoga pants up with shaking hands, shoving the toys back in the drawer like they’re evidence of a crime. My legs wobble when I stand, body still humming with aftershocks.
The cracked laptop sits on my desk like an accusation.
I just gave Alexi Ivanov exactly what he wanted. Proof that he could break through my control. That beneath the careful walls and perfect systems, I’m just as fucked up and desperate as anyone else.
“Fuck.” I press my palms against my eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Maya can never know about this. No one can ever know about this.
I grab my phone, fingers flying across the screen to initiate every security protocol I have. Lock down my systems, change every password, burn every bridge Alexi might use to reach me.
Three new messages light up the screen.
I don’t read them. I block the number instead.
9
ALEXI
The error message mocks me from three different screens.
Access Denied.
