Chapter 6
JULIAN
The moment Elliot’s lips close around my cock, I let out a deep groan that echoes through the room. There’s something infinitely satisfying about watching this repressed man on his knees before me, finally embracing what he’s denied himself for so long.
“That’s it,” I murmur, watching his hollowed cheeks as he takes me tentatively into his warm mouth.
His technique is a little clumsy—clearly unpracticed—but what he lacks in skill, he makes up for in enthusiasm. I tighten my grip in his hair, guiding him to a rhythm that suits me. His eyes water as he adjusts to the sensation, but he doesn’t pull away.
“Look at you,” I say, voice husky with arousal. “All those years pretending, and now you can’t get enough.”
Elliot makes a muffled sound around my cock that sends vibrations straight through me. I glance down to look at his fucking beautiful cock, it’s large and veined and so beautifully shaped. His hand subconsciously moves toward it, seeking relief.
“No,” I command, yanking his hair. “Focus on me. You don’t touch yourself unless I say so.”
His eyes flick upward, meeting mine with a mixture of resentment and undeniable hunger. The sight of his rebellion mixed with submission sends heat coursing through my veins.
“Xavier was right,” I say. “You’ve been fighting this for too long.”
His renewed eagerness surprises me as his tongue finds sensitive spots that I hadn’t expected him to discover so quickly. His cock stands fully erect now, pre-cum glistening at the tip as he serves me with growing confidence.
I tighten my grip on Elliot’s hair, pulling him further onto my cock until I feel the back of his throat. His eyes widen with panic, but I don’t relent. Instead, I thrust forward, watching as he struggles to accommodate me.
“Look at you. Take all of it,” I growl.
He gags around my length, throat constricting deliciously. Tears spring to his eyes, tracking down his flushed cheeks. The sight is intoxicating. I pull back slightly, giving him a moment to gasp for air before pushing back in.
Each time I force my way deeper, his cock twitches between his legs. A steady stream of pre-cum drips onto the floor beneath him. The more I choke him with my cock, the harder he gets. His body is betraying everything his mind has fought against.
“Look at you,” I say, voice ragged with desire. “Your cock is fucking weeping for this.”
I establish a brutal rhythm, fucking his face without mercy. His throat convulses around me, the wet, choking sounds filling the room.
Elliot’s hands grasp at my thighs, not pushing away but pulling me closer, his fingernails digging into my skin. I hadn’t expected him to surrender so quickly, to crave the abuse.
“I can’t wait to bend you over and fuck that virgin ass,” I tell him, watching his cock jerk in response. “I bet you’re tight as fuck, aren’t you? Been saving that hole all these years.”
His moan undoes me. I’ve had countless women on their knees before me, but none of them compare to Elliot. The desperation in his eyes, the pure submission—it’s fucking glorious
“Not a single woman has ever taken my cock this well,” I admit, surprised by my own honesty.
Xavier’s voice cuts through my haze of pleasure as he directs his girl to look at us. “Look at that,” Xavier says. “Elliot’s sucking Julian’s dick like such a good boy. Just like you’re sucking mine like such a good girl.”
Elliot moans around my cock, leaking even more precum onto the floor.
“See how well he takes it?” Xavier states, thrusting into Mira’s throat roughly. “How he stopped fighting and started obeying? That’s what good boys and girls do. They submit.”
I meet Xavier’s gaze. “He’s better at this than I expected,” I admit.
Elliot moans, and the pretty slut Xavier’s throat fucking moans too; she likes seeing us together, which only adds to my desire.
I tighten my grip on Elliot’s hair, my fingers digging into his scalp as I force him further onto my cock. Tears spring to his eyes, tracking down his flushed cheeks, but there’s something in his expression that surprises me—eagerness.
Where I expected resistance, I find surrender. Where I anticipated shame, I discovered hunger.
“Fuck,” I hiss through gritted teeth. “Look at you.”
His eyes meet mine, glassy with tears yet burning with desire. The sight of him—this successful man on his knees, throat stretched around my cock, tears streaming down his face—sends waves of pleasure coursing through me that I can barely contain.
When I ease back, giving him space to breathe, he chases after me, desperate to maintain contact. I hadn’t expected this. I’d anticipated breaking through his walls, forcing him to acknowledge his desire for cock, but this eagerness and unfiltered need is something else entirely.
“You’re such an eager cock slut,” I growl, the words making his cock twitch visibly. “You’ve been craving this for years, haven’t you?”
I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
Not by the most beautiful women who’ve graced my bed, not by the most skilled men who’ve pleasured me in dark corners of exclusive clubs.
There’s something about Elliot specifically—his transformation happening right before my eyes—that makes this more intoxicating than any sexual encounter I’ve ever had.
My movements become erratic as Elliot pulls back slightly to lick around my head and then dives back to taking me right down his perfect throat. And I can’t hold back, feeling a tingle in my spine as my balls draw up.
“Swallow,” I demand. “All of it.”
I feel my release hit with a force that surprises even me, pulsing down Elliot’s throat. His eyes widen at the volume, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he swallows. Every. Fucking. Drop. His throat works around me, milking me dry with an enthusiasm that belies all his previous protests.
Christ, he’s beautiful like this.
When I finally pull back, I notice Elliot’s cock is still rock hard, leaking a steady stream of pre-cum onto the floor. I’m genuinely impressed he hasn’t come just from sucking me off.
“Look at you,” I murmur, tucking myself back into my pants. “You’re fucking dripping.”
Before Elliot can respond, Xavier’s voice cuts through the moment.
“Run fast, angel,” he commands his prey, giving her a sharp slap on the ass as she scrambles to her feet. “Make it interesting for me.”
The woman doesn’t need to be told twice. She bolts from the room, leaving Xavier looking satisfied and Elliot and me alone.
Elliot seems to suddenly remember where we are. The fog of lust clears from his eyes, replaced by shame as he hastily rises to his feet. He yanks his pants up, not even bothering to wipe the mixture of saliva and cum from his chin.
“That was uncalled for,” he mutters, refusing to meet my eyes as he fastens his belt. “We don’t even know if all the girls are taken yet.”
I step closer, invading his space in the way I’ve noticed makes him nervous and hard simultaneously. “Uncalled for? That was goddamn beautiful, Elliot.” I run my thumb across his lower lip, still swollen from my cock. “And I can’t wait to do more.”
His pupils dilate despite his frown. “I’m leaving,” he says firmly, pulling his mask back over his face and stepping back.
I smile, feeling the predator in me rise to the challenge. “I’ll chase.”
The irony isn’t lost on me. Elliot came here as a hunter, and now he’s become the hunted.
Elliot shoves me back, his face flushed and eyes wild beneath his mask. “You’re being a fucking asshole, Julian.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a gesture that somehow makes me harder. “I’m a hunter, just like you. That’s why I’m here tonight. You can’t hunt me.”
I laugh, the sound echoing in the empty corridor. “I can hunt whatever prey I choose, Elliot. And right now, that’s you.”
“No.” He straightens his shoulders. “That’s not how this works. There are rules—”
“Rules?” I step closer, backing him against the wall. “The only rule that matters is power. Who has it, who doesn’t. Right now, I have it.” I press my palm against his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath the fabric of his shirt. “And we both know you want me to use it on you.”
“Fuck you,” he spits, but doesn’t move away.
When he tries to shove past me, I catch his wrist, pinning him against the wall with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs. He struggles against my grip, but I hold his wrists above his head, my body pressed flush against his.
“Stop fighting what you want,” I growl into his ear.
He bucks against me, the movement bringing our erections into perfect alignment. Even through our pants, the friction is exquisite. His breath hitches, and I can feel his cock twitch against mine.
“This doesn’t make me—” he starts, but I cut him off by grinding against him deliberately.
“Doesn’t make you what? Gay? A submissive? A man who gets hard when another man pins him down?” I rotate my hips slowly, watching his eyes roll back. “Your cock is telling a different story, Elliot.”
His struggles become less convincing, more like an excuse to create friction between us. I release one of his wrists to grab his jaw, forcing him to look at me.
“Here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to run, and I’m going to hunt you. If you don’t...” I press harder against him, making my intention clear. “You’ll have my cock in your ass within minutes. Your choice.”
There’s something different in his eyes now—a shift from shame to defiance that I didn’t expect.
“Good luck with that, Julian,” he says, voice steady despite the flush still coloring his cheeks. “I’m not prey, and I’m certainly not being hunted.”
I release his wrists and nod to the corridor. “Run for me like a good boy.”
He turns his back to me—a deliberate insult—and walks toward the exit with measured steps. His posture is rigid, shoulders squared, the picture of forced composure.
“You’d better run, Elliot!” I call after him, my voice echoing through the corridor. “Or that pretty virgin ass will be split open before you can say Hollow’s Hunt.”
He hesitates for just a heartbeat—a slight hitch in his step that betrays him—before continuing out the door without looking back. The slight tremble in his shoulders tells me everything I need to know.
I don’t chase immediately. Instead, I lean against the wall, adjusting myself through my pants as I savor the moment. There’s something delicious about watching him walk away, about giving him the illusion of escape.
The Hunt has always been about women, about the primal thrill of pursuit and conquest. But this—hunting another hunter, one who’s spent his entire life denying who he truly is—this is an entirely different game. Far more satisfying.
I imagine finding him in some dark corner of the maze, that carefully constructed facade finally crumbling as I bend him over and show him exactly what he’s been missing. The thought sends heat coursing through my veins.
He wants it. That much is crystal clear from the way he took my cock down his throat, from the way he leaked all over the floor just from the act of servicing me. Beneath all that denial and self-loathing is a perfect little cock slut waiting to be claimed.
And I’m going to be the one to claim him.