The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) (5 page)

All I wanted was a fuck. And
judging from the way she held herself, legs spread wide, that was all she
wanted too. I knelt and reached between us to tilt my cock down, sliding it
down between the cheeks of her ass until it found home. I pushed into her as
she opened for me with a gasp, and felt her pussy take my cock whole.

How long had it been since I’d
been with anyone? Since I’d felt sweet warm heat wrapped around my cock?

I thrust slowly,
relishing each inch of her, trying to control myself and the
needs
that
started rising to the surface. My wolf wanted to take her hard, to bite her
neck and claw her back and -- I took the solid cheeks of her ass in my hands,
felt the flesh move with my grip, and stopped myself from more. She was important
to Vincent, and I would never mark anything he loved – but when she moaned and
pushed back into me, I couldn’t help but thrust harder.

I held onto her hips in
earnest as I rocked in and out, pushing her into the couch. The champagne color
of her skin beneath the oil lamp – listening to her pant with each of my
thrusts -- her skin, her smell, his smell, my cock, her pussy –

“No –“ I protested, as my
inner nature tried to come through. I wasn’t the only one who wanted this –
it’d been a long time for my wolf, too. He was clawing at the inside of my
mind, desperate to gain control, to
mount
her – and I felt my mating
knot beginning to swell. “No –“ I panted, begging my cock to behave.

She moaned beneath me,
spreading her legs wider, as if asking to be knotted. 

“It’s okay,” she promised,
grinding her ass back against me, her pussy clenching me. “It’s going to be all
right –“

My thickening cock gave me no
other choice – I pounded myself into her, feeling her pussy wrapped around it –
feeling the quivers of her goddamned coming around me, like she owned me –

I growled and finished myself
inside her, unable to do anything but, needing to come before I was betrayed by
my own lust. When I was done I stared down at her, breathing hard, fighting to
collect myself, to calm myself, to pull myself back from the brink of my wolf’s
desires. I barely managed to control myself in time and slide my cock out.

Oh my God.
Years of
trying to keep my head down and stay off the map – only to almost let my wolf
mate itself someone I didn’t even know.

She stank of Vincent. That had
to have been what’d done it, what’d pushed me over the edge.

I panted, gathering
myself too slow, only one thought on my mind. 

For me it was an
imprecation, for my wolf, a command.  

Fuck.

Chapter Three

“I haven’t – done that
–“ he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“It’s okay, mountain man,” I
said, feeling him slide out of me. “I wanted it too.” I rose up, shaky, pulling
my robe back up. Fucking a stranger. So high on the bad decision scale it hurt.
But hurting myself always felt right, when left to my own devices. And Vincent
wasn’t around anymore to keep my head on straight, or do the hurting for me. I
clutched both my hands at my sides, suddenly about to cry.

 “Where’s your
bathroom?” And then I remembered how rustic this place was.

“Outside.”

“Is there…toilet paper?”

“I live away from
civilization, not in the middle of nowhere.” He said brusquely, standing and
pushing his dick back into his pants. Fucking me hadn’t made him any kinder.
“Take a flashlight – it’s on the house’s east side.” He pointed to the lights
hanging near the wall. “East is to your right,” he called, as I closed the
door.

I didn’t turn on the flashlight
immediately once I was out. Instead I listened to the crickets and felt the
night press down on me like a hand.

I was alone. The immediacy of
physical contact had pushed the truth back for a while but if I didn’t keep
fucking-being-fucked, it wouldn’t stay away. I’d been in this place before, the
dark place, after my parents had died. No one on this entire planet cared if I
lived or died, now that Vincent was gone. Not the crickets sawing all around
me, or the strange man inside the cabin.

I turned the flashlight on,
ran for the outhouse, and cried. 

#

I was on the bed in front of
him, tied up like he liked, hands over my head, completely helpless. His
fingers were on the last button of my blouse, exposing a red and black lace bra
I’d bought just for him, and he was looking down appreciatively.

“Tonight I want to do
something different.”

“Okay,” I breathed, tense,
scared, hungry.

My nights with Vincent had
changed me. He’d been seeing me for three months now, one night a week. The
extra cash that Ray’d let me keep I’d spent on dressing up – I looked like a
girl you picked up at a bar now, not one who walked in from the corner – but I
only dressed up for him. Looking too nice made other johns angry, they wanted
to take you down a notch, imagining you to be their ex-wife or current boss,
and I didn’t like getting hit.

Except by him.

It made no sense, I know. It
was hard to explain, and I never got the chance to say what I thought about it
aloud, which made it harder. All I knew was that he didn’t hurt me like other
clients did, on accident, or with anger – with him it was some kind of push and
pull, to see how far I would let him go, to see how far he could take me.
There’d been spankings and clothespins and I would tremble, not-scared-really-scared,
on a precarious brink until he’d let me go. He would eat me out then, until I
came, my legs wrapped around him as I writhed, arms still bound, and then he’d
untie me and go, and I’d stay in the room for the rest of the night. 

It felt like being Cinderella,
for twelve hours at a time.

I looked up at him, wondering
what would happen next, what he could do to me that he hadn’t already done as
his gaze studied mine.

“I’m afraid tonight might be a
very long night, Sam.”

I nodded, a little afraid.
“Why?”

“I’ve never broken you, have
I?”

I shook my head.

“Well, tonight I’m going to
have to.” His face looked resolved, and I tensed. Here it was, the moment it
all fell apart – I’d been a fool to look forward to these nights, to think that
I was special, that he was special –

“Stop squirming,” he demanded,
and I did. “Look at me.”

I stared directly at him, even
though the look that he was giving me now felt like it burned.

“We’re at a plateau, you and
I. Either we continue, or we don’t. I can let you go now, if you want, pay you
for the night, and never see you again. Or you can stay and find out what I
want. Make up your mind.”

I wanted him to repeat what
he’d said, but I knew if I did he’d think it hesitation. I stared up at him,
trying to find answers in his eyes. Could I trust him? I’d already let him tie
me up. What more did he want? My heart was beating so loudly in my chest I wondered
if he could hear it.

There was one thing I knew
about him from our time together – he always wanted the truth from me. When
we’d started, I’d tried to be too brave once and he’d hurt me. I thought he’d
be pleased that I’d let him go so far, but he was mad at me for lying to him
instead. It’d taken me days to understand why.  

“I’m scared,” I told him,
truthfully.

He nodded. “You have every
right to be. Up until now I’ve played with you, and rewarded you for it. But
you have no idea what it’s like to actually serve me.” He brushed a stray lock
of hair away from my eyes, still looking down.

“Is that what you want?” I
whispered in hope. I could do that. I was used to serving people – Ray, the
other johns – service didn’t frighten me.

He smiled a little. “Yes. But
more than you’ve given any other man so far.”

“How so?”

He rubbed his thumb across my lips,
as if he was stealing a kiss for later. “Do you want to stay?”

I looked around the room we
were in – so much nicer than the room I stayed in at Ray’s – saw the black lace
of my bra against the red, felt the satin of my blouse against my back. But more
than all of that, I looked at him, his stern face that smiled so readily, his
brown eyes, intense or soft. Hotel rooms could come and go, lingerie could be
rebought, but I wasn’t ready to be without him in my life just yet.

“I do.”

His gaze softened and he
exhaled – that was the first time I ever realized that he wanted this too. That
he was scared of losing me. “Good.” He reached over my head and untied my
wrists.

I swallowed. “Now what?” What
would ‘service’ entail? Acting like a cocktail waitress? Blowjobs?

He rocked back on the
mattress. “Now, I’m going to make you cry on purpose because it pleases me.
It’s going to hurt. I’m sorry.”

I pushed up onto my elbows.
“What?”

He looked over at me, daring
me to challenge him again. It wasn’t too late, no matter what I’d said – but –
I wanted to be here more than I wanted to leave, so far.

“Why?” I asked, as he rummaged
in the bag he’d brought, pulling out a wooden hairbrush. I hated that thing, it
stung so bad when he spanked me with its wooden side, the carvings there
leaving little lines up and down my ass in its wake.

“Because.” He pointed with the
brush to the door. “You can leave, if you’d like.”

Which was why he’d untied me.
So I could just go.

Other girls were better
actresses than I was, they would’ve cried on command just to get to the
minibar. I couldn’t pull that off. “But –“ I protested as he reached for my
hips to turn me over. “Just tell me why? Please?”

He hesitated, and let me rock
back down. Emotions flew across his face, too quickly for me to read. “I want
to see you, the real you, with all your armor down. I don’t want there to be
any secrets between us, Sam. Secrets only wind up hurting worse, later.”

“But you don’t have to make me
cry for that –“

“I’m afraid I do.” His
expression was solemn, his voice cold and frightening. 

“I’ve cried with you before –“
I protested.

“This time is going to be
different.”

I bit my lips. “But -- you
don’t even understand what you’re asking!”

One of his eyebrows raised. “Then
tell me.”

I looked around the room we
were in – his room, his world, and me, just a placeholder in it – I didn’t
belong here, I didn’t get to keep it, none of this was real – I grabbed hold of
the scab that hid what my life was like when I wasn’t in here being a Cinderella
with him and pulled. “When you leave here, you get to go back to your amazing
life where you have money and you do whatever it is you want to do all the
time. When I leave here, I go back to Ray, and a room I share with three other
girls, all of whom at one time or another have stolen my stuff, and I put on
torn tights and a spandex skirt and wait for calls.” Words came rushing out of
me like blood. No one else wanted to hear about the room, or the way that that
life was, how scary things could be, how precarious it felt to never really get
to hope -- I was breathing heavy now, scared of being with him, scared of being
without him, and I was crying, goddammit, which wasn’t fair, because it
probably didn’t count. “You want me to take my armor off, just to amuse you? To
feel real feelings when we both know real feelings hurt? Fuck you, Vincent,” I
said, hands balled into fists, sobbing. “I’m a human being, not a puppet.”

“I know you’re not a toy,
Samantha,” he said, his voice low. This was it, I was ruining it, I could tell.

“Let’s just fuck like we
always do, okay?” I said, my voice small, hoping beyond hope that I could turn
back the clock.

He stared down at me, tears
rolling down my cheeks, my chest heaving, as I savagely wiped my eyes and my
nose with the back of one hand. Cinderellas didn’t cry. Cinderellas were tough
and did what their Prince Charmings wanted, even when those Prince Charmings
held the hairbrush.

I watched him set the
hairbrush aside. Here it’d come, the part where he’d throw me out of bed, and
I’d have to explain to Ray how come the gravy train had stopped. But instead
his hands went to the button of his collar, to undo it. I watched him unbutton
the next one too, my lips parting in a silent gasp as I wiped my tears away
again.

He undressed himself. I’d
never seen the skin of his chest before and I wanted to run my hands over it,
but I was too afraid that moving would break this moment. I could see what
looked like a knife scar a few inches from his neck, and one tattoo, the pawprint
of a wolf right on top his heart. He kicked off his dress shoes and pulled off
his socks, and then unlatched his belt. I wondered for a hot second if he would
be using it on me, before he let it fall with the rest of his clothing and
kicked himself free.

It was his turn to be naked in
front of me, like I always was for him. He moved to lay beside me, lining his
body up with mine, and he kissed me.

He hardly ever kissed me. I
knew because I’d counted each and every one. His lips pressed against mine,
strong yet soft, and his tongue pushed in, as firm as the cock that was right
by my hand. Instinct took over and I shimmied my skirt down and undid the front
clasp of my bra. He kissed a line down my throat to my nipples and sucked at
them.

I wasn’t sure what this was,
we’d never been like this – for all I knew, this was a good-bye fuck – but I
liked it. He rocked himself over me, put on a condom, and slid himself in. I
moaned as he fit me perfectly, just like our first night.

“Is this what you wanted? A
little bit of normalcy?” he asked, holding himself up on his elbows and
stroking in and out.

I nodded. From here I could
touch his face and his scar, feel his skin. Everything we’d done before now had
been intense – but this was intimate. Even for me, who was so used to
fucking.