Page 60 of Monstrous Serpent

And he’s naked.

Very, very naked.

Unknown Number: Isn't it a great view, Little Jenkins. You're welcome for the visual

Trembley.

My lips press into a thin line.

These psychotic assholes decided to break the silence by sending a nude. Are they fucking kidding me?

Another image comes through. Same angle. Same body. Except now there's a red handprint on Kincaid's left ass cheek.

My dick thickens, and I reach down to palm it.

Unknown Number: He wouldn't give me your number so I stole his phone

Unknown Number: It was nice knowing you. Hunter's about to beat my ass

Unknown Number: I won't survive. Make sure you mourn me. Oh, and have sexy dreams about me too

Me: you deserve it

Unknown Number: Aww, will you really have sexy dreams about me?

Me: I was talking about Hunter murdering you

Fuck, why am I smiling?

A minute passes. No response.

I drag my teeth over my bottom lip, reopen up the first photo again, then enlarge it.

Kincaid is massive.

Not just tall. Wide. Thick through the shoulders, back stacked with dense muscle. Tattoos cover both arms. Full sleeves. Somehow, they make him look bigger. Meaner. Like there’s not one soft thing about him.

My hand slides into my sweatpants and wraps around my dick as I zoom in on his ass. It's round and tight and just as massive as the rest of him. The tops of his thighs too. There’s so little body fat, I can see the separation between the muscles.

I stroke up slowly. Base to tip.

My thumb drags through the precum already collecting at the slit, and I smear it down my shaft. The wet drag sends a pulse through my balls, and my breathing picks up.

I stroke faster, eyes locked on the screen.

All of that was on top of me. Pressing me into the dirt. Holding me down.

My hips rock up, and I grunt, my grip tightening as the heat in my groin spreads down into my legs. My toes curl against the mattress.

I can still taste him. Feel him stretching my lips. My throat.

A broken moan tears from me, and I fuck into my fist harder, wrist twisting on every upstroke as my balls draw up tight. “Oh, god. Ohhh, goddd. Hunterrr.”

Every muscle from my stomach to my thighs locks up. I curl forward, a strangled noise ripping out of my throat. Cum pulses into my sweats, thick and hot, my hand still working my shaft because I can’t stop, my whole body seizing through the aftershocks until my abs ache and my wrist gives out.

I said his name.

Out loud.