Page 100 of Hunted


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Seeing his tongue fiercely conquer hers and hers effortlessly surrender to him, unexpectedly removes the weight of dread that’s been firmly crushing my chest for the last couple of hours.

Of course, I didn’t fucking want her to go.

Selfishly for me, yeah, but more so for him.

The Kid deserves…happiness.

Real. Fucking. Happiness.

The shit you can’t get tinkering around under the hood of a car.

And she gives it to him.

And if something were to ever happen to me – albeit prison or shotgun to the chest – I’d wanna know he wasn’t gonna end up completely alone.

That he had someone in his life that loved him just as much as I do.

When he abruptly pulls back, I savagely jerk her face back my direction and command, “Get naked.” Excitement instantly thrums through her bright eyes forcing me to announce, “Oh, I’m not about to reward you for runnin’ away, Rabbit.” My thumb lightly pulls at her bottom lip. “I’m gonna punish you.” A faint flash of concern appearing pushes me to add, “And you’re gonna fucking like it.”

No argument is given.

No hesitation presented.

Bunny simply stands.

Strips.

Allows us to drink in the sight of her hard, dark nipples.

The wetness already glistening between her thighs.

Resisting the instinct to reach out and gently stroke the swollen area takes more willpower than any one man can be expected to have especially when The Kid whimpers, “Sir…”

Oh, like this shit isn’t about to be hard enough.

“On your feet, Kid.”

Kipp immediately springs upward ready to fulfill whatever order I give next.

“On my lap, Rabbit.”

Curiosity has her cocking her head while slowly moving.

“Hands on my knees. Legs spread wide. Ass facing me.”

“But you’re still wearing pants.”

“I already told you…” The shaking of my head is slow and wicked. “You’re not bein’ rewarded.”

She flashes me the tiny jewelry in her mouth as if tempting me to rethink my choice yet does as she’s been told.

Once in position, she wiggles her hips to further appeal her case.

The movement is ignored.

But goddamn is it hard to.

I meet our man’s confused glare at the same time I instruct, “Drop the boxers.”

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