Chapter 22 Max
TWENTY-TWO
MAX
A bloody knife?
A saner woman would be halfway home by now, but as I’ve learned over the last couple of weeks, I can’t think rationally when it comes to Hunter.
I know he doesn’t have an evil bone in his body. I’ve never felt like I’m in danger when he’s around, and as I stare up at him, his eyes patient and kind, I know I’m going to give in.
From the second I’ve met him, I haven’t stood a chance.
“How many people?” I whisper, and his fingers gently wrap around my hand. He takes the knife from my hold and tosses it out of the way, kissing the inside of my wrist. “How many people have you killed?”
“Eighty-seven over six years. I could tell you all of their stories if you want. The horrific things they did to their victims while they were still alive.” His mouth ghosts over my knuckles, his breath warm on my skin.
“But I don’t want you to have to bear the weight of how evil this world can be. You’re too perfect for that, Max.”
“Did they all deserve to die?”
“Yes. Every last one of them.” He guides me to the edge of his bed.
My hands shake as he brushes a piece of hair out of my eyes.
“I know you said I’m a serial killer. And, by definition, I guess I am.
But I feel pain when I hurt someone I care about.
I cry. I’ve never laid a finger on a woman out of anger, and I never will.
” Hunter rests his forehead against mine and sighs.
“This is something I feel called to do, almost. But if you want me to stop, I will. I care more about you than the money this brings me.”
“Wait.” I pull away from him. There’s a drop of blood on his forehead. Another on his earlobe. “You get paid to kill these people? How does no one report them missing?”
“I get paid generously. The guy who started the organization has investors. Rich people who need slates wiped clean. And no one reports anyone missing. That should tell you about the kinds of people I’m dealing with.
” Hunter stands and scratches his chest. “I’m going to shower.
I don’t like touching you when I have blood on me.
I don’t want you to get caught up in that part of my life. ”
“I’ve seen the knife. I’m pretty caught up in it.”
“You’re right.” He bends and kisses the top of my head.
“If you want to leave while I’m in there, I’ll understand.
If you want to stick around, I’ll only be a few minutes.
Forget fucking. I’ll make you a cup of tea.
We can watch a show on Netflix and fall asleep.
I know you have school in the morning.” My throat bobs when he moves his mouth to mine, kissing me in a soft and easy way that could convince me he’s never committed an act of violence before in his life.
“Whatever you decide, Max, I’ll respect. ”
Hunter pulls away and gives me a smile, taking his bloody clothes to the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him and I stare at the barrier, conflicted.
We haven’t had a conversation about the future. There’s been no discussion about what our relationship is besides kinky sex and light stalking.
Could I fall asleep next to him every night knowing there’s blood on his hands? Could I let him touch me and not flinch, a worry always lingering in the back of my mind that he’d do the same to me?
Deep down in my heart, I believe he’d never do that.
He’s had the chance to overpower me multiple times, but he hasn’t.
He’s been nothing but gentle. Even when I ask him to be forceful with me, begging for him to fuck me harder, there’s hesitancy behind his actions.
Concern that he might break me, and that’s the last thing he wants to do.
A deep breath helps center me. A second long exhale relaxes my shoulders. By the third gulp of air, I’ve made my decision.
For as many shitty people as I’ve dated in my past—all the men who have ghosted me, who have cheated on me, who have ignored me and given me a half ass effort in our relationship—Hunter has constantly proven himself as one of the good ones.
Murder aside, of course.
I feel safe with him. I feel taken care of, adored, and I grab my phone, looking up something on the internet.
Hunter emerges from the bathroom ten minutes later, a wall of steam following behind him. A pink towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets drip down his shoulders and chest. He stops when he sees me on his bed, his whole face lighting up in a smile that’s miles wide.
“You’re still here,” he says.
“To get the blood out of your clothes, you’ll want to soak the stain in cold water as soon as possible,” I tell him, and he hums.
“Yeah?” He takes a step toward me, mouth twitching. “What should I do after that?”
“You’ll need to use hydrogen peroxide or bar soap. I’m assuming you have one of those?”
“Would you believe me if I said I have a big ass bottle of hydrogen peroxide under the sink for this very reason?”
“Once you do all of that, you can wash the clothes in warm water with bleach.”
“It was only a tiny stain. I’m going to get rid of the jacket.
” Hunter climbs onto the bed, crawling across the mattress.
He positions himself between my legs, pushing open my knees.
His blood-free hand runs up the length of my thigh, and I sigh at his touch.
“You’re still here,” he says again, like he can’t believe it.
“Against all my better judgment.” I put a palm on his cheek and he whines. “If you ever think of using a knife you used to kill someone on me, I will not be happy with you.”
“I’d never do that. You have your own special knife, angel. The only action it gets is your pussy.” He extends his arm, swiping something off his bedside table. “Do you want to use it tonight?”
“Among other things.” I lean forward so I can take off my shirt, throwing it out of the way. Hunter tries to touch my breasts, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him. “I want you to tie me up. I want to feel like I can’t escape you.”
“Are you sure?” He takes both my wrists in his hold, lifting my arms above my head. I close my eyes, already wet. “We can just—”
“Tied up, Hunter,” I say, and the mattress dips under his weight.
I listen to him open a drawer and drop his towel, heavy footsteps moving back toward the bed.
I smile when he kisses me, my eyelashes fluttering open to find him stroking his cock while his other hand touches the length of a rope. “And I want the knife too.”
“My girl is greedy tonight,” he muses. “Take your bra off. Let me see your tits, angel.”
Obeying him doesn’t take much effort. My body does it willingly, fingers twisting in the clasp of the bra and letting the material fall away.
He sees me bare-chested and groans, arousal coursing through me at the sound of his excitement.
No man has ever made me feel wanted like this before.
There’s always a visceral reaction from Hunter when I get naked, and when I reach for the button of my jeans, he stops me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
He nods, eyes dark, and stands, looking down at me. “What you’re asking for is called consent to not consent, Max, which I’m all for. But we need to establish a safe word, so if at any time you feel as if it’s treading too far into no consent territory, we can end the scene.”
“Okay,” I whisper. In other times we’ve been together, he’s given me a light system, checking in frequently if my enthusiasm and willingness to participate drops from a green to yellow, unsure of if I like something we’re doing. “And if I say the safe word?”
“Everything stops. Immediately. Doesn’t matter when you use it.” He grabs my chin, our gazes meeting. His attention is sharp, unwavering. “I will listen to you. I’ll make you feel like you can’t escape, but I’m also going to listen to you. I will not hurt you.”
The moment is charged with lust, but it’s laced with adoration too. With Hunter’s usual kindness, and I can’t explain why my heart skips a beat. I can’t explain why I break out into a smile and turn my cheek, kissing the center of his palm.
“I trust you,” I tell him, and the grip on his cock tightens. “My safe word will be book, since I like to throw them at you.”
“I like a woman with some fight in her.” Hunter lets go of my chin and picks up his knife. “I’m serious, Max. Use that word anytime, okay?”
“Okay.” I give him a gentle shove and throw my legs over the side of the bed. I gesture at my jeans and play with the top button. “Are you going to take these off, or am I?”
“Doesn’t sound like someone who wants to escape me.
” Hunter moves across the floor, standing right above me.
He pulls down on my bottom lip, hinging my jaw open.
I smile, ready to take his cock, but he traces my lips with the knife handle.
I gasp when he presses the cold metal on my tongue and fills my mouth with the base of the weapon.
“Get this nice and wet, angel. I’m going to fuck you with it. ”
I exhale through my nose, keeping my eyes on him. I tip my head to the side and lick from the handle all the way to the heel of the blade. I can see my reflection in the steel, the eagerness in my eyes, and Hunter’s laugh is mirthless.
“Fucking slut who likes this, don’t you?”
“No,” I challenge, even though we both know it’s a lie.
His large hand rests on the back of my head, forcing my mouth to bob up and down.
The danger of my tongue being so close to the blade is a rush of adrenaline, but before I can sink into a rhythm, he pulls the knife away.
Hunter puts it on the mattress by my hip and grabs my ankles, dragging me across the sheets until my ass hangs over the edge of the bed.
“When I take your jeans off, I bet I’m going to find your pussy drenched for me.”
He pulls on the zipper, tugging my pants off in one fluid motion. I shift on the bed, cool air against my skin a change from the heat radiating from Hunter’s body. Lifting the knife, he cuts the waistband of my underwear on both sides, smiling when the small scrap of material exposes me to him.
“I’m not drenched for you.” I close my legs, heart pounding with anticipation.
“Yeah fucking right.”
I let Hunter lead the way. He grabs my knee. Shoves my thighs open, and I gasp at the forcefulness. His hand moves up my body, a torturous drag he takes his time with. When he gets to my hip, he presses a thumb against my clit. Rubs a slow circle and huffs out a dark laugh.
“I knew it. Put your back against the pillows and lift your arms above your head. And spread your legs so I can get a good look at your cunt that’s fucking weeping for me.”
“No.” I try to stand, leaning into this fantasy, but Hunter is stronger.
Rough hands push me back to the bed. I scramble across the sheets to get away from him, a moan sneaking out when I see his cock thick and hard between his legs.
“Please don’t,” I add, but there’s nothing behind it except aching desire.
“You’re so pretty when you beg.” Hunter moves as fast as lightning.
He pins my body to the mattress, the synthetic fibers of the rope pinching my skin when he ties my wrists together with a knot.
I tremble, alight with pleasure in a way I’ve never been before.
“Keep your arms above your head, face the wall, and lift off the mattress.”
“What are you going to do to me?” I try to ignore the liquid heat pooling in my belly, but it’s impossible when he flips the knife in his hand, catching it by the handle without any hesitation.
“You’re going to sit on my face. Right before you come, I’m going to use my knife to fuck you so I can taste you all over the handle. After, you’re going to take every inch of my cock.” He lifts me, moving me involuntarily. “And maybe something in your ass too.”
“I’ve never—” I swallow, pushing up on my knees. “You’ll have to be gentle with me. Please.”
“Gentle? I’m never going to be gentle with you.
” Hunter chuckles again and lies on his back.
He stabs the knife into the mattress, right by his head, and I jump at the motion.
“Don’t drop your hands, Max. If you move or struggle or make this difficult for me, you won’t like what happens next.
Better yet—” He grabs part of my discarded underwear and reaches up, shoving the pair in my mouth.
“There. Now you’re my little toy. If you need to use your safe word, you tap me three times. Understand?”
Fuck.
I almost come from his words alone, each one punctuated by a slap to my ass, but I nod.
Hunter’s arms loop around my thighs. With surprising strength, he lowers me to his face.
His tongue licks a hot swipe over my entrance and I squirm, having nowhere to go but lower, sinking further onto his mouth as his tongue parts my pussy lips.
“Did I say hover?” Hunter practically growls, fingers digging into my flesh.
I cry out, the sound muffled by the ripped lace in my mouth.
“Sit on my fucking face, Max. Suffocate me, angel. I’m not letting you leave here until I taste your come, baby, so you might as well admit you love this as much as I do. ”