The Hunter (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (16 page)

“Um… now that you mention it, but you know I don’t pay attention to the game. I could give a shit less. It’s why they leave me alone.
How do you know what they’re up to?”

“
My son. Zane and I talk every night. We share no secrets. Faith is scared that I’ll remember that Regina and Marc will be inducted as Elders the day after Christmas. Like I’d forget,” he drawls, annoyed that Faith thinks so little of him. “So they are being nice to me- giving me gifts in the form of hot men.” Ezra snickers. “But I was behaving long before that. I went on a spree, ruining anything in my path, not realizing I was ruining my own path. I’m not behaving because I’m distracted by cock. I’m behaving because I’m better than this. Marc raised me better than this, and I should demand better of myself. Just because I can use insanity as an excuse doesn’t mean I should act insane.”

“So… so what, we pretend we haven’t just hurdled a pivotal roadblock?” Still
feeling offended, rejected, hating that Ezra sees me as his dirty little secret, I glare at him. “I am your husband, you fucktard,” I growl, grimacing. I push at his chest, but Ezra’s cock is still deeply rooted inside me. The more I struggle the more blood pumps into his arousal, bringing it to life moments after release.

“What I said was the honest to God’s truth. I’d use our kids’ lives as a vow, but I’ll use yours instead. I just mean, don’t take me up against walls inside the castle,” Ezra deeply chuckles, lust-filled and heady. “You know how you get.” He winks at me.

“Fine,” I snidely allow. “You’ll regret pushing away my attentions.”

“Don’t be that way.” Ezra gives his long-suffering sigh. “Plus, I need to be able to manipulate Whitt and Dalton with my sob story of loneliness. I’m not lonely now, that’s for sure,” he purrs with a huge grin splitting his face that transforms to a serious expression. “Don’t make me miss out on my
once
. Those guys will not touch me unless they feel sorry for me. And I really, really want to fuck them,” he whines.

I nod my head as I worry my bottom lip, “Ya got a point, there. That’s a chance of a lifetime- hot twenty year old cock gobblers.” I push Ezra back so I can laugh at his pained expression.

“Are you sore?” Ezra asks, doing his conversational change-up that always leaves me feeling dizzy.

“No,” I reply as I flex my ass cheeks, testing.
Does he really think I’m gonna get fucked a third time tonight? It’s his turn. “Remember our first time?”

“Yeah,” he hesitantly
mumbles, eyeing me, knowing damned well that I am trapping him somehow.

“Yo
u better fucking run,” I warn a second before I flip him over, preparing to mount his ass. “Are you sore, Ezra?” Near his ear, I tauntingly sing our code phrase from times gone by. I always asked Ezra that before I attacked him.

“Oh fuck!” Ezra hops up, yanking his pants together. He runs off through the lawn towards the woods, tripping on his pants and laughing at himself.

“I’m tracking you. You better run. My hunting skills have sharpened,” I warn, tugging on my pajama pants.

“THE HUNTER,” Ezra shouts as his back disappears into the woods. “Let the hunt begin.”

The Hunter: Past
-Chapter Fifteen-

             
They say that a man thinks about sex every seven seconds. I say they’re wrong. One day I got a hard-on, and since that day, my cock has never flagged. I was eleven, and not once was I confused about what you did with an erection. I had no fear or shame. I took it in hand, and I’ve never let it go since.

             
What I was confused about is what I was aroused by. Magazines. Television commercials. The maid. Even the dentist placed visions of orgasms in my head. This phenomenon confused me to what I really wanted. Girl, guy, animal, vegetable… mineral, plant life, it didn’t matter. I was ready to fuck, and an inanimate object was fine by me.

             
I never knew if it was true attraction, chemistry, until after the fact. My sex would throb, and I’d charm the nearest person into taking care of the ache. Afterwards, the pain and regret would set in- the emptiness. The mental torture is how I knew they weren’t what I wanted.

             
I was sixteen when a springy blonde ponytail bounced into to my view, and I thought I really felt something for her. Like a divining rod, I went right at her. Little Miss Faith Simpson didn’t want me back, no matter how much she tried. It made the chase more thrilling. Proud that I finally got her, got
in
her, I didn’t feel regret after the sex. I felt at peace. Dumbass me didn’t realize it was because Ezra was with us. Our last time together, just Faith and me, that regret suffocated me. Then that little bitch told everyone I sucked at sex, and I spent the next decade proving her wrong, no matter how much I hated it. 

I’ve been a slave to my sex- it’s a constant throb, an ache that is never satisfied. I’ve done things I’m not proud of in my quest to feed my starvation. More so than the mortification, I’m just confused. Faith screams that I’m gay to anyone who will listen. Ezra ignores my status. Marcus insinuates. I tell everyone I’m straight, and finally gave up and just said bisexual. Why? Because no one understands that I don’
t know. It’s not because I’m confused, or think being gay is a bad thing or being straight is normal. I don’t have the ability to look at someone and think,
I want you. I really, really want you.

Only twice
I haven’t been confused, but I didn’t know what it meant. The first time was months into playing The Hunter, watching Ezra change into a man. I finally felt it- the chemistry. My eyelids became heavy, hooded, my lips went slack, and my cock popped without touch. I stood there, making a mess out of myself, staring at Ezra like he did a miraculous trick. Ezra went from looking like a boy, feeling like my brother, to looking like the most decadent food on the planet. I wanted a taste and didn’t know how to ask.

We’d play
ed The Hunter, Ezra loping through the wood, glistening with sweat. I didn’t need to learn to track, I just followed my divining rod cock. The harder it pulsed, the closer Ezra was. The guy left pheromones in his wake, pheromones my body needed- my perfect drug.

But how do you convince the boy who was raised as your bother to satisfy the ache? I was already jerking off every second of my free time. I knew if I had another person to take care of
me, I’d never let them go. I was scared Ezra would think I was a freak. I knew he wasn’t obsessed with sex like I was, because I’d outright asked him like fifty times already.

I didn’t have to ask. I found Ezra in the woods, in the exact spot our tent now rests. I yanked him from his hidey hole inside a hollowed-out tree trunk. We wrestled, laughing and taunting. Ezra was stronger than me so he got the upper hand. Lying on top of me, struggling to keep me down, I felt it. Ezra was aroused. I did that
- me. It was a heady sensation. I knew that everything made my cock hard, but Ezra wasn’t a freak like me. I knew because I’d asked Ezra if he was always hard, and he had laughed and called me a freak.

Gazing
down at me, smile freezing on Ezra’s lips, I felt the throb, and it wasn’t my cock for once. Without thought, I lifted my head and kissed Ezra- our first kiss. My first kiss. His first kiss. I thought Ezra would punch me and call me horrible names. But he pressed me back to the ground so I didn’t have to strain my neck to reach him. Ezra controlled our kiss- softer, and then harder, and then fierce. I let the hunger out, I’d found my perfect outlet in Ezra.

Mind furiously spinning out of control, I kissed
Ezra while trying to figure out how to please him while pleasing myself. The throb was a constant thrumming that wouldn’t be denied. I tried Ezra’s hand, but it’s not like he could get off by having my cock rub his palm. I tried his mouth, but it’s not like he could get off by having my cock shoved between his lips. I needed to make Ezra cum with my body- with my cock. We weren’t naïve, but we were really young, and nature took its course. Instinctually, I flipped Ezra to his knees and entered him without a lick of finesse. It was rough, jerky stops and starts. But I’d found something that satisfied me while simultaneously satisfying Ezra.

Ezra came all over the ground where our tent now stands, and I fucked him upwards of twenty times a day after that.
Are you sore
was question that was necessary to ask, and when Ezra said yes, I sucked his cock in thanks. I’d finally found someone I wanted, and I could feel it, and there was no mistaking that it was attraction- pure undeniable chemistry.

The Hunter dramatically changed after that, because no matter what, I always found Ezra- always… and when I did, I took my prize.

The second time I felt true attraction was just a random day. Marcus had become a fixture around our house. Marcus’ grandmother Rebekah would drop him off, doing that strange arranged marriage matchmaker business rich fucks do. They were planning the wedding of the century between Marc and Diane. When Ezra found out, he’d had a three-day meltdown that led to him being sedated and under Dr. Weiss’ constant supervision. I was unsure of Marcus because Ezra broke down when he found out about the wedding and adoption.

Unsure or not,
I felt it- chemistry. Eighteen, tanned skin, and silky curls, I didn’t know if I was gay or straight, all I knew was that I didn’t give a shit. Marcus was hot, and he made my cock pulse almost as badly as Ezra did. I figured that meant it was real, not just because I was horny.

Hero-worshipping,
I taunted and teased and stalked Marcus around ShadowHaven. He’d bat me away like I was a pesky fly. I was thirteen and Marcus was a man. Looking back, I realize he wasn’t really a man. Marcus was just as confused as I was, and not much older in retrospect. He’d just graduated from high school, a month later he was a husband and father… and he looked at me like I was looking at him, and it made me feel… proud, powerful, high. When Marcus would reject me, I’d yank Ezra somewhere obvious and wait to get caught. Subconsciously, I wanted Marc to see what I could offer. I was a stupid, horny shit… and now I want to hide under a rock in mortification.

Truly, in my entire sex life, thousands of encounters, I’ve only recognized Ezra and Marcus as real attraction. How can you know if your body is running your mind? What is the determining factor? Guys at Hillbrook had this stupid saying when a girl would ask how they knew if they loved them. The guy would reply with,
baby, ‘cuz my dick gets hard
.

I must love everyone, then.

I didn’t know how to judge my arousal, and I had no way of finding out. Somehow, answering the question became the most important thing in my life. Am I gay? Am I straight? Am I bisexual? What am I?

I was on the verge of telling Ezra that I was gay when I met Regina Regal. She intrigued me
, so I thought maybe I wasn’t gay. And then I met Faith. Sixteen years later, and I still haven’t answered the question. But I am closer to the answer than ever. I think I just loved Faith, and not
‘cuz my dick got hard
- I just loved Faith because she was Faith.

When we lost Faith, lost her because of my stupidity and to Wil, I went a bit insane. I had to prove what I was to myself. I worked my way through
every girl over the age of fourteen that went to Hillbrook. Every. Single. Girl. Not one left unclaimed. Pretty, short, tall, fat, skinny, homely, whiny, bitchy, annoying, and nice, I banged them all. The ones that I didn’t feel remorse over after the fact, I banged until I did. Not one of them made me feel whole.

There has been a constant in my life: my need for Ezra. Craving, hunger, need, desire, as a writer, none of those words truly encompass the real sensation. I haven’t the word in my mental thesaurus. Ezra hurts me so I pull away, but the fire never dies
out- not once. Fear couldn’t even smother it. My struggles with Ezra were emotionally about both of us, but never desire- never that.

I found a happy-medium with a fellow sex addict. Kristal Harris and I were toxic for one another. We fucked constantly, and we fucked a lot of people together at once.
The most impressive, or should I say the worst, involved an orgy of seventeen people. Out of faithfulness, I never touched the men. It was a wakeup call, one I didn’t have to take. The next day Marcus and Ezra came to me, told me to behave because Katya Waters was coming home to us. I dropped my bitches in a heartbeat because I had to overcome this toxic addiction that was ruling my life.

Katya, my Kitten, my wife…

Am I jealous of Kitten? Yes.

D
o I love Kitten? Yes.

Am I
in
love with Kitten? No.

No one, and I mean no one, could ever replace Ezra. There isn’t a snowball
’s chance in Hell that I’d ever fall for anyone other than Ezra, not even Marcus. It’s why I let Ezra ruin me. As a glutton for punishment, I let Ezra do it all over again, and again, and again.

Am I attracted to Katya? I don’t know. I truly don’t. Katya is gorgeous and strong and loving and kind and ruthless. Katya is a survivor. I
pretend married Katya because it was what Ezra wanted, needed… and everything I do is for Ezra. It’s not difficult to be around Kitten. I’m a sexual fiend, and when we first were together, Katya would feed me until I was bloated with sex.

Katya wasn’t a replacement for Faith, because no one could ever replace Faith, just as no one could ever replace Katya. Th
ey are two very different women… and I’ve never wanted either of them.

The guilt suffocates me, because to admit something to myself, I have to admit another hard truth out loud. I’m ready, but is Ezra?

My sex life has ruled me. It has been humiliating and scary and funny and disastrous and… a journey of a lifetime.