Page 42 of Hunt Me

He lifts his hand and curls it around his face. ‘Beautiful.’

My heart flutters as he flips the knife shut, and finally, his gaze meets mine. Something wicked dances in his eyes, and then he leans forward, pressing the end of the knife against my lips.

‘Suck,’ he fingerspells.

My lips part, and he presses it against my tongue.

I have never in my life done this, and yet here I am, deep-throating a knife hilt like I’m his own personal whore. It takes no time at all to realize I’ll do things for Archie I’d never do for anyone else.

His hand goes around my aching cock as I suck the knife, my tongue running along the etched metal. He watches it all, his pupils blown out, his cheeks flushed. And when he pulls it from my mouth minutes later, he stares at it.

“Fuck,” I see him say. I don’t hear sounds, so maybe he’s not speaking at all. I fight the urge to reach up and touch his throat to see if he’s making noise.

He moves quickly, making me jump as he leans over and grabs something from a drawer. I see what it is as soon as it’s dropped onto the mattress.

Lube.

My cock jumps. He’s gonna fuck me.

He’s gonna put that big dick inside of me, and god, it’s been so,sofucking long since anyone’s touched me. And god help me, but no one’s ever touched me the way Archie’s doing right now. My cock throbs, and I grip the base to keep me from embarrassing myself because holy shit, I am so turned on.

“Denver,” he says, and this time, I hear my name from his lips. It feels like the first time. Up to this point, he’s only called me his little rabbit, I think, and something about the way his tongue curls around my consonants and vowels makes me even hotter.

I meet his brief gaze before it falls away. “Am I?—”

I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence. He grips me by the throat and kisses the words from my lips, then pulls back and knocks his forehead against mine. “You make me very horny.”

Shit. The way he just says that—the way he just lets his thoughts tumble from his lips without overthinking everything. What must it be like to live that way? I take a breath, then curl my fingers around his wrist and urge him to grip my throat tighter. I want him to see I’m not afraid. I want him to see that this vulnerable place that nearly ended me is also a place I trust him with.

“Archie,” I say. He stiffens, almost like he’s expecting my words to be sharp and cutting. “I like you so much. I want you to touch me. I want you to fuck me. I want to feel your cock stretching me wide, and I want you to make me come.”

His breath shudders out of his chest, and he lets out a high whine before letting me go, but only to push my knees into my chest. He spreads my thighs open, exposing me to him, and licks his lips like he’s starving for me.

Grabbing the lube from the bed, he uncaps it, moves my balls aside, and squirts some directly onto my hole. He waits a moment, almost like he doesn’t want to touch, but then his fingers massage it in, running gently around my rim. They never enter me, his touch a tease. A promise.

I arch my hips up, wanting more, but he doesn’t give it. Not yet.

Instead, he waits, watching me squirm until I’m begging with my voice and my hands.

“Please.” The word is as ragged against the back of my throat as the sign is trembling on my fingers as I rub my hand in a circle over my chest. “Archie, I need you. Fuck.Please.”

It’s only then that he pushes a finger inside of me, and I can’t stop myself from crying out. I have zero thought for who might hear it. For who else is in the house. The only thing that matters in this moment is that after all this time of hunting and stalking, he’s finally giving me what I’ve been craving.

His eyes sparkle, his nostrils flaring as he watches his fingers pump in and out of my hole. The sound is too quiet for me to really hear it, but I have a decent imagination, and I can only hope it’s turning him on.

It must, because after a short forever of stretching me wide, he leans down and takes my dick into his mouth. It’s warm and wet, the perfect suction to his finger fucking me. He matches rhythm like he was born to do it, and pleasure shoots through my limbs, making my face hot and half-numb.

I reach out, fingers tangling into his hair, and use him as leverage to lean up so I can watch what he’s doing to me.

The sight of it is almost too much.

He’s almost too much. He fingers me like it’s the only thing in the world that matters. He sucks my cock like he needs my cum to survive, and the only way to get it from me is to pull it straight from my body.

I feel the familiar tingle of inevitable release, but before I can come, he stops. I cry out as his finger leaves my ass and my dick falls from his lips, but the frustration of having what would have been a gorgeous orgasm interrupted is met with something thick and blunt hitting my rim.

My hands tighten on him when I realize what’s happening, and I lift my hips to meet whatever it is he’s using to toy with me.

It’s not his cock, but something else.