Chapter 8 Hunter
Hunter
I’m following Rayne.
He’s going to know it this time.
And I don’t fucking care, because I need something from him, and I’m going to get it.
“You guys can head back. I need to get a couple more hours in at the library,” Rayne says as the four of us leave the Kettle.
I already feel ravenous. I have since the moment I sat down across from him.
I want to destroy him, and I want to own him. I want all of it, like a hot shock through every vein in my body.
The night air has a slight chill, and I watch the breeze blow through a tuft of his hair.
Mine to pull.
He’s still one of the most infuriating people I’ve ever known, and for some reason that only makes me want to fuck his throat more.
“Sounds good,” Wes says, fist-bumping him. “See you at home.”
“You coming back with us, Hunter?” Ollie asks. “I think the guys are going to kick my ass in poker, if you want to join.”
“Can’t come back right now,” I tell him.
Have something to take care of.
Wes is glowering at me.
I’m sure Rayne is, too.
And both of them don’t realize how satisfying it feels to know that I’m so far under their skin that I practically control them, now.
“No problem. Good luck studying. See you later,” Ollie says before he walks off through the quad with Weston.
When I turn back to Rayne, he’s already taken off down one of the crisscrossed paths.
I follow after him in the night, and he knows I’m here.
He knows I’m still behind him as he ducks into the library, too.
The stacks feel even quieter than usual in the evenings, and I walk behind him until he heads toward a desk in one corner.
The tall row of books separates us from the rest of the library and by the time I reach the edge of his desk, I’ve undone the top of my pants and pulled down the zipper.
If my cock is deep enough in his throat, he won’t have enough air to moan and disrupt the quiet in the library.
We passed a few stray students on the other end of the room as we walked over, but there’s no one close by.
He ignores me completely, pulling out his textbook.
Rayne looks good all the time, especially after a long run or a shower, when his skin is glistening and his muscles are particularly pumped up… but he almost looks even better right now.
Here in the library, lit by the glow of the green glass-shaded lamp that sits on the corner of the desk, his tanned skin looks so perfectly smooth.
He’s in a form-fitting long-sleeve white shirt, and the neck is just low enough that the edges of his collarbone tattoos peek out. He looks like a heartthrob jock, the kind of guy who would be nice to everyone and win Most Popular, too.
I touch the edge of his textbook.
And I slam it shut.
When he finally glances up at me, I reach lower and push the top of my pants and underwear down, pulling out my cock.
His eyes land on it, bare, for the first time.
Something I’ve always been more than proud of.
My cock is hard.
Thick.
Very ready to fucking shut him up.
He suddenly stands up from the desk chair and yanks my arm deeper into the stack of books.
“Are you insane?”
“Anyone could walk down this row at any time,” I tell him. “And if they do, I’m not stopping. Get on your knees.”
I get my foot behind his legs and give him a little push there a moment later, taking him by surprise.
He falls to the ground, and the instant he’s there I press the slick tip of my cock up against his pretty lips.
Need that.
Need a lot more of that.
“I’m not doing this here,” he whispers.
I just push my tip against his mouth again.
“You already are. Open.”
I take two of my fingers and put them on his lips instead, and finally he parts for me. He takes my fingers into his mouth, and the slick feeling of his tongue makes me throb.
Fucking give that to me, Rayne.
The moment he’s sucking on my fingers I yank them out.
And I replace them with my cock.
Rayne finally takes me in his tight, wet mouth like he should, and for a moment I let him gently suck me, pausing to marvel at how good he looks.
Then I get impatient.
And I slam my hips forward and push my cock in all the way to the back of his throat, making him choke on me.
And it’s everything I’ve needed for weeks on end.
“Oh, God, Rayne,” I utter, gagging him a little and then shoving a little deeper. “How many times did you dream of taking my cock like this?”
And he really does look prettier with me inside him.
He looks perfect and dutiful.
Not that he has a choice.
“Going to use you to get off,” I utter as I pull out fast, let him take a quick breath, then thrust into him again, in a deep, deliberate motion. “And you need my cum.”
I push in so far that I know he can’t breathe again.
I let it hang there for one second, then two.
Then I pull back and let him gasp for air as I slide my tip along his lips, the friction of his mouth just enough to drive me wild.
He runs a hand across his hair.
Collecting himself, which I’ll be sure to ruin in another moment.
He holds my gaze.
“You think I’m your plaything,” he says softly, his voice a little ragged. “But you’re the one who admitted I’m the only thing that can get you off anymore.”
I dig my fingers into his hair and yank it hard, pulling his head back.
I stuff my cock past his lips to shut him up again, but it feels so good my thighs twitch, and his eyes are so captivating when he’s taking me.
I need to come, sooner rather than later.
I’ve had enough of this.
This hold Rayne has had on me.
It’s going to end once I get him out of my system.
“You used me that first night at the party,” I whisper. “Now I use you whenever I want. Going to come on your tongue.”
This time he’s the one who deep throats me so far down that he can’t breathe.
I don’t have to thrust in, because he willingly takes it.
He’s trying to milk the cum out of me.
“You’re desperate,” I say, pulling out for a second.
“Call me something worse.”
I suck in a breath of air. “The most willing mouth I can find to fuck. Lips all slick because you’re a needy slut for my cum.”
He laps his tongue along my underside and I’ll lose my fucking mind if I don’t shove deeper into him. He takes me like he’s been waiting for it, hollowing his cheeks out as he slides me deeper.
Every flick of his tongue is better.
Takes me closer.
You liked that I called you my slut.
When I tug his hair hard again, I can feel him moan on my dick.
And when I put my other hand on his throat, I can feel my own cock thrusting inside it.
I lose all control at the thought of it.
When I know I’m going to come, I force myself to keep my eyes open.
Look at him the whole time.
As the sensation builds, and my sack tightens, I watch his brown eyes, so willing and full of need.
I lose control and hold that gaze. Everything in me is reduced to one pure sensation. I come inside him, cursing loudly this time, not giving a damn who hears.
“Fuck, Rayne.”
I push in hard.
He swallows every fucking drop I give him.
I’m somewhere else entirely. Floating on air, for a moment. When he finally slides off my cock, he stands up and gives me a goddamn kiss on my cheek.
And then he walks back over to the desk nearby, cracking his textbook open again.
Like nothing.
Like I’m not standing here with my cock hanging between my legs, still covered in his spit.
I shove it back in my pants and zip up, and a moment later, a student pushing a rolling carrel of books walks past the end of the stack.
Would have been better if you passed by earlier.
Put some fear in Colson’s veins.
I need to leave.
But instead, even after coming, some part of me lingers on Rayne, like there’s a tether luring me over toward him again, where I shouldn’t go.
I walk over to the desk and see his lips still slick from before, even as he flips through the textbook.
There’s so many things I could say to him, but only one comes out.
Something I’ve been curious about, and now I’m not holding back from asking.
“You say you’re not afraid of me. So why don’t you trust me, Rayne?” I say softly.
There are a million reasons why he shouldn’t trust me, but I just want to hear it from his lips.
He doesn’t respond. He turns a page in his history textbook, pretending to read. I soon realize I’m not going to get anything more from him.
“Okay. Have a good study session,” I tell him. “I’ll wait a few desks down ‘til you’re done to make sure no one comes in to attack you.”
I stay there when I hear him speak again.
“You were always terrifying to me, Hunter,” he says quietly, “but I always thought there was something good in you.”
“Shut up. Spare me that sappy bullshit.”
“It’s real,” he says, looking in my eyes again. “Your artwork, for one. It was beautiful. You had so much talent, and then you just stopped. Why did you stop painting and drawing?”
“Because shit got bad. Why don’t I stuff my cock in your mouth again so you quit acting like a guidance counselor now?”
“I’m not afraid of being real with you.”
I bite my tongue. “I went easy on you. Pulled your hair, fucked your throat. Starting to think I want to hurt you worse.”
He glares at me. “I was ready to be there for you after Lune died—”
“Don’t talk about my sister.”
“It broke my fucking heart when that happened to her, too. But instead of accepting any support from me or Weston, you lost your fucking mind.”
For fuck’s sake.
Where the hell did that come from?
It feels like the floor drops out from under me, hearing him lay it out so plainly.
My jaw clenches.
I thought he was going to toss banter at me like he usually does.
Instead, he got way too real, way too quickly.
Part of me wants to get up and leave, but for some reason, I pull out the wooden chair next to him.
He watches me for a while.
When I don’t respond, he goes back to his book.
I lean back in my chair, scrubbing my face with my palms.
I think about Lune every day, but Rayne mentioning her name feels like a sucker punch, all the same.
And he’s also right.
There is so much about me that you don’t know.