Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I got to him.
Something set him off, and I don’t know what it was.
Even the blunt edge of his knife is starting to bite at my skin, now, and the grip he has around my wrist is starting to burn.
And something in me fucking likes it.
I hate that part of myself.
I reach my free hand up.
Slowly.
Steadily.
Until my palm lands on the back of Hunter’s hand, the hand that’s currently gripping a knife held against my chest.
I stroke his skin there. The back of his hand and his forearm are smooth, the skin much softer than I expected.
I got to you.
I made you snap.
I feel my cock respond as I touch his skin, watching that wild look in his eyes start to fade. I feel like for the first time, I have him in my web instead of the other way around.
Two can play this fucking game.
“You look pretty when you’re out of control,” I murmur, and I almost can’t believe the words that are coming out of my own mouth.
His eyes are wild again, but in a different way this time.
For a second I swear he’s really going to bring the sharp end of that knife to my neck.
“Goddamnit, I want to hurt you so fucking badly,” he growls, and I can tell he means it.
But instead, he keeps it right where it is as he leans in, keeping the metal pressed firmly on my skin as he claims my mouth in a hard kiss.
And as I slide my tongue past his lips, I know for the first time that there’s nothing that’s going to stop us, now.
We’re not in public.
Not hiding from anyone.
I can practically feel every nerve in my body vibrating with need for him.
And there’s nothing to keep me from taking all of him.
12
Hunter
I keep my knife against Rayne’s chest.
Keep my hand around his wrist, too.
You made me lose it, and you’re going to pay for it.
A moment ago I wanted to kill him but when he gives me his tongue like this, I might rather fuck him instead.
As I’m kissing him I force him backward, both of us stepping back until his ass lands on the edge of his bed.
I push him down and straddle him on the mattress, never taking my lips off of his.
Once he’s lying down on his back, he’s sliding his tongue into my mouth like he’s needy for me even though I’m the one holding a blade on him.
His tongue is slick and warm against mine and the sensation goes straight to my cock. I’m hard and I’m not trying to hide it as I shove my bulge up against his naked thigh.
I love him in these boxer-briefs that leave nothing to the imagination.
I finally let his wrist go and the moment it’s free, he reaches down, cupping my hard-on through my pants.
“Knew you still fucking wanted it,” I growl at him.
“You came at me like a rabid animal,” he says, squeezing hard and making me moan. “How else am I supposed to calm you down?”
“You’re not calming me down, king. You’re begging to get fucked. Do you dream about me, Colson? Is that why you whimper in your sleep?”
“You watch me sleep? You’re more psychotic than I thought.”
I cut him off by pushing my thumb past his pretty lips and into his mouth.
He bites me, so I slide out the slicked finger and while his lips are still parted I put the back of my knife against his mouth instead.
“Something better for you to bite.”
He shoves his hand past my waistband and inside my pants, just like he did the other day. His fist tightens around my cock, giving it a hard squeeze.
His teeth come down on the knife and I can feel it wiggle the handle a little.
Good fucking Lord.
My skin is hot as I gently take the knife away from his mouth.
“I want to hurt you,” I tell him, “but not like that.”
“Am I the first person to tame you?” he says, cocking his head to one side. “The first person who doesn’t cower in fear when you put that stupid fucking knife near me?”
“You couldn’t even try to tame me,” I tell him. “Do what I say. Unbutton my pants. Your mouth looks pretty, and I need to take it.”
Rayne removes his palm from my cock. He takes his hand out of my pants entirely, but he doesn’t motion to undo my fly like I asked him to.
In fact, it’s like he’s decided to suddenly do a 180.
His gaze is suddenly defiant.
“Get the fuck out of my bed,” he says. “Go to bed aching or get yourself off, but you’re not touching me.”
A flash of frustrated tension hits me and I snap all over again.
I pull back my knife and I slam it forward, making Rayne jump.
The tip sinks into the carved wooden headboard of Rayne’s bed. The knife sticks out, inches from his head, like it’s framing him in.