Chapter 37
Hunter
I have never had a sound, normal mind.
If I had gone to a psychiatrist with the thousand problems I have, I would’ve been declared a walking collection of psychological disorders.
But now I’m close to crossing the line that separates my kind from those who belong in asylums, because they’re lethal to themselves and others. And all of it is because of one fucking woman.
She’s messing with every functioning part of my brain at once. Since last night, I haven’t been able to relax for even a second. Her state last night frightened me to my core.
I didn’t even leave for Canada, where I need to be within two days because our plan will be executed in four. But I can’t leave her either. I can’t even put cameras inside her house because the anti-surveillance system that motherfucker installed would detect them.
That’s why I stayed outside her house all night and all day.
I decided to see what state she was in when she came out to take Bruno and Rosie on their evening walk.
But before that happened, she came out in that motherfucker’s car, wearing that dress and that smile.
I followed her everywhere she went. She was so fucking happy.
I’ve never seen her that happy. The memory of her laughter rekindles the rage simmering in my blood.
I’m sitting in her room now. I know it’s risky, just like last night.
That bastard could walk in and see me. Yesterday I was in the closet for that reason.
Today I don’t give a fuck. Right now I’m in the exact mood to kill him.
My thoughts are already running through the consequences.
The biggest impact will be on Elowen, and right now I don’t have time to support her emotional breakdown. Her family will cause problems too.
Too much trouble.
I can’t kill him.
I grit my teeth, fists clenching painfully. I have to wait one more week. The most I can do is beat the shit out of him, and that’ll be satisfying for now.
The door opens from outside. Her laughter reaches me, followed by her singsong voice. “Good night.”
“Good night, Princess,” the motherfucker replies.
She stumbles into the room and closes the door behind her, humming a happy tune. The light in the room is dim—I made sure of that—but I can still see very clearly how drunk she is. I step out of the dark corner. She doesn’t even notice me when I reach her.
I cover her mouth from behind. She gasps. I turn her around. She looks at me with wide, drunk eyes. Her face relaxes instantly. I feel her mouth stretch into a grin under my palm, so I pull my hand away.
She throws herself into my arms. “I knew you’d come back.”
I pull her off me and hold her still. “How much did you drink?”
She chuckles. “Just a little.”
“Why did you drink? Didn’t I tell you not to?”
She rolls her eyes playfully, the smile never leaving her face. Can alcohol really make you this happy? I recall her previous drunk episodes, it does mess with her like this.
“Don’t do that again, and don’t ever turn your phone off.”
“Don’t do that, don’t do this,” she babbles. “Why are you so boring?”
“I love being boring. And the next time you pull any of that, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit down for days.”
She pushes my hands off her arms and steps closer, wrapping her arms around my neck again. “Will you punish me?” she asks in a sultry voice.
I clench my jaw. Blood rushes to my cock. This fucking dick and this fucking woman.
“Yes, and it won’t be enjoyable.”
She drags one hand down my body, from my neck to my chest, sliding sluttishly over my abs and down to my pants, where she cups the bulging hardness and massages it. I swallow the groan rising in my chest.
“Then why are you so hard?”
“It has nothing to do with the punishment you’ll get.”
She releases me and steps back, grinning mischievously. Then she pulls down the zipper of her dress and lets it fall. My dick twitches painfully as I take in the sight of her standing in front of me in lavender lace lingerie, made to be ripped off her body right before I fuck the brain out of her.
She turns and walks to the bed, climbing onto it before jutting her ass out and bracing her hands against the headboard. The thong covers almost nothing—her round, plump cheeks are bare. Pre-cum leaks through my boxers when she turns her head and looks at me with unmistakable lust.
“Show me how you want to punish me.”
I walk to her and do what she demands, landing a hard slap on her fair cheek, printing it red.
She parts her legs. The thong is wedged between her folds, soaked through. My body shivers with the insane intensity of my arousal. I slap her right where she wants it, and she repays me with a loud moan.
She turns around, her eyes hooded. She grabs my collar and pulls my face toward her.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“No.”
She releases my collar and starts unbuttoning my shirt. “Yes.”
I grab her wrists. “I said no. You’re drunk.”
She grins. “Either you fuck me, or I’m going downstairs to ask Salvario for help.”
I push her away. She falls back onto the bed, still giggling.
I yank my shirt up over my head and throw it aside, glaring at her.
I undo my belt and unbutton my pants. She watches me with a starving need.
I know she’ll regret it tomorrow morning, and she should.
Who told her to get drunk and say things that fucking pissed me off the most?
I throw off my pants and boxers, grab her ankles, and drag her toward me, which makes her giggle more.
I tear off her flimsy thong and push her thighs apart.
Nothing about my movements is gentle, because nothing in her has left me gentle tonight.
I pull her up, lock her thighs wide apart, open her dripping pussy as wide as it will go, and start feasting on her.
I suck hard enough to make her wince, but she moans, so fucking loud it must have reached that motherfucker downstairs.
I suck every drop of her sweetness from her cunt.
Once she’s clean enough to mess up again, I drop her onto the bed, turn her around, push her forward, and climb behind her.
She pushes her ass up, moaning before I’ve even done anything.
Her cunt gushes more liquid, and in no time she’s dripping onto the bed.
I grab her ass cheeks in a tight grip, angle my cock, and thrust inside her in one hard stroke.
She presses her mouth into the mattress, moaning into it.
She needs to, with how loud she is. And I know it’s because of the drinking.
The thought angers me again. I land a hard slap on one of her ass cheeks as I thrust wildly inside her tight, dripping cunt.
She groans, turning her head to look at me.
I lean down, grab her hair, and tilt her head further back.
My cock ravages her. Her eyes are barely open, her lips parted, constant moans spilling from her beautiful mouth.
“Who’s fucking you?”
“My husband,” comes her instant reply. “Hunter.”
I move my hand down to her clit and rub it roughly. “Good girl. Now come on your husband’s cock.”
She obeys instantly, like every fucking time, clenching my dick so tight it wrings me out, emptying weeks’ worth of storage from my balls.
She moves forward, pulling my dick out, dripping our merged cum onto the sheets, and turns onto her back, spreading her thighs open. “One more time.”
“Fuck,” I curse through clenched teeth, watching her already swollen pussy, thick cum gushing out of her.
I move down, grab her bra over her tits, and pull it apart, tearing it from the middle, releasing her breasts, and grabbing both in my hands.
I latch my mouth onto one. She moans, pushing my head down further, arching her ass up in search of my dick. I suck harder on her nipple. She locks her legs around my waist. I leave her breast, lock my arm around her waist, pull her up, and thrust inside her. She cries out.
I leave her breast and kiss her parted mouth, drinking in her moans and cries as my cock moves inside her, harder and faster with each stroke.
Elowen
I wince as I turn onto my side. The first thing I feel, even before I’m fully awake, is soreness in my lower region, so deep it feels like I’ve been fucked at least ten times. My eyes fly open as fragments of yesterday come rushing back.
I look around my room. There’s no one here. Then I look down at my clothes. I’m wearing my blue silk pajamas, but I don’t remember changing into them.
My skull feels like it’s splitting apart. Did I drink too much last night? What did I do all day yesterday? I only have a blur of the whole day. When I try to recall, my head throbs harder. I try to sit up, and it hurts. I wince.
I have a faint memory of Hunter being here last night. Nothing explains this state better than him being here, and us having sex. My head spins as I climb out of bed. What’s wrong with me? Why do I have such a hangover?
Instead of going to the bathroom, I move to my door, unlock it, and walk out. I even left Bruno and Rosie outside. Using the wall for support, I make my way toward the stairs.
I spot May at the bottom of the stairs and call out weakly. She looks up, drops the box she’s holding, and rushes upstairs.
“What happened, miss? You don’t look well.”
I nod. I’m sweating and shaking.
“Where are Bruno and Rosie? Are they okay?”
She takes my hand for support and turns me back toward my room. “Yes, they’re fine, playing in the garden. They’ve had their breakfast.”
“Where is Salvario?”
“He went out for some work. He instructed me to give you your tea once you’re up.”
She guides me to sit on the bed. “You rest here. I’ll be back with your tea and breakfast. Or should I call the doctor first?”
I shake my head, it spins. “No, just tea and food.”
She nods and leaves. I hold my head in my shaking hands. It feels like my blood pressure has bottomed out.
May returns with my tea and hands it to me.
“When do you want me to bring you breakfast?”
I take a sip. Whatever new changes Salvario has made to it, they’re magical. Within a few sips, I feel so much better.
“I’ll come down for breakfast. I think I’ll feel better soon.”
She nods. “Call me if you want me to bring it up.”
I nod, and she leaves.
I finish the tea. Within a few minutes, the shaking and headache are gone. I smile, feeling completely at ease and buzzing with energy.