Heart of the Hunter

Maybe that’s not the right word for the man in front of me, but it’s all I could think as I gazed up at him. He looked like he was carved out of stone, like a heaving, painted, sweating statue towering over me. His smooth skin glistened in the afternoon heat and he ran his hand through his dark brown hair, slicking it out of his eyes. And he just stood there, arms at his side, waiting. He was in complete control. He knew exactly what he was doing. I was all his, at his complete and utter mercy.

He took one step toward me and I was now staring directly at the muscular V that sat just below his abs. It was as if it was showing me where he wanted me to go. I could see his erection growing through the coveralls that were hanging loosely below his waist. I reached up and ran my hands across his washboard stomach, taking it in with my fingertips. I felt the same electricity I felt when we first touched at the diner, except this time my body was bursting with desire from the inside as well. There wasn’t one part of him that moved to my touch or was out of place to my eyes. My hands slid effortlessly across him and I felt every groove of his rock hard abdomen as I moved them down to his coveralls, gripping the fabric and pulling it down, just a little.

Suddenly, I felt his hand in my hair as he pulled back my head. I was forced to stare up at him, utterly at his mercy. He stared down at me, gritting his teeth as if getting ready for a fight. But it wasn’t anger, and I wasn’t afraid. It was the same look I saw in the diner when he came crashing in to save me. The same look I saw when he brought his massive fist down over and over on the man that tried to ruin me. It was primal and it was powerful. It was pure. I could feel my chest starting to move harder, up and down, and Hunter pulled the back of my hair harder, forcing me again to look up at him. I let out a gasp and slowly pulled the rest of his clothes down.

And finally, I saw him.

All of him.

The tattoos that started on the side of his stomach ran all the way down to just below where his pants sat. His thighs were as rock solid as the rest of him and I ran my hands around them to the back, placing my mouth on his pelvis and tasting the sweat from a day’s work on my lips and tongue. I could taste the auto shop, the mayhem at the diner, and the explosion of senses he had unleashed in me. He tasted like creation, like destruction, like strength.

He tasted like a man.

I felt another sharp tug on my hair, and then he pushed my head right toward his erect cock. His thick and throbbing shaft stood in front of my face, moving with every breath he took. My eyes widened and I licked my lips. His tip glistened, he was so aroused it was already dripping pre-cum, and I moved my eyes down his entire, pulsing shaft. He was rock hard from head to toe, every inch of him standing tall and dominant. He was complete power and he knew it.

I reached up nervously and ran my hand over him. Suddenly, I was in the air, lifted up by his powerful arms, and then laid down on my back, right there in the middle of my kitchen. I was lying there, looking up at his entire naked body. He controlled what I did, what I saw, and when. Right now he wanted me to see him in all his glory and understand that I was his.

And boy did I understand.

He wet his lips with his tongue and slicked his hair back again, stepping out of the last few inches of his clothes as he came toward me. A small smile crept over his mouth and he looked me dead in the eyes. I couldn’t take it anymore. He was taunting me, teasing me. I was paralyzed by him and there was nothing I could do. He smiled because he knew it. That smile told me he’d known it since the moment we shook hands at the diner that morning. All I could manage was a soft, “Please,” as I lay there. I was either begging him to stop or begging him to start. Maybe both. Whatever was happening, I couldn’t stand it much longer. I needed to be released, and only he could set me free.





Chapter 10


Kelly


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