Chapter 17 #2
“I need you,” I whisper. I try to hook my leg around him to flip him, but he slams me back down. My body hits the ground with a force he’s yet to use on me, and I look at him with scrunched brows.
“What?”
“You do as I want, when I want you, baby,” he says, unbuckling his belt. Oh, wow. That was hot. My breath catches as he lets his dick free. Hard and long, he runs a hand over himself, and I nearly come at the sight.
“Oh, God,” I whimper while watching him. His eyes dart to me with an eyebrow raised.
“God? Baby, please, God isn’t saving us.” He leans down to capture my lips in a kiss, and I meet him halfway. We moan together as our skin meets in a sweaty blazing fire.
“I need to feel this pussy around me,” he whispers as he lines himself up and slowly enters me. Our bodies join for the first time, and I know this like I know blood courses through my veins: this man is mine.
All I can comprehend is this man inside me. Not the beautiful forests around us, not the competition, not the fact someone could catch us. Nothing but the feeling of him thrusting inside me matters.
He focuses, picking up my hips in his hands and carrying me as he meets me thrust for thrust. I try to match him, try to meet him, but with my ass in the air and his complete focus on me, I can’t move.
I’m trapped and too wrapped up in his concentration.
He watches me as he tries moving me, seeing what feels best and the attention to detail making me hotter.
He hits my sweet spot, and my eyes roll as he retreats, only so he can do it again. Slowly. I inhale through my mouth, trying to catch my breath, but it doesn’t matter. “Elliot, please,” I moan. “Faster.”
He moves fast, then slow, and arousal chokes my throat.
As if his hand was around my throat, choking me as he pounds into me.
My nails dig into his back, covered in dirt and leaves, and I drag my hands down at the pleasure he is causing in my core.
He’ll have scratches to remember me by and that makes me flush all the more.
My back rams against the earth as his tip hits my g-spot over and over again. My body slides up, and I’m sure I’m causing a track mark in the dirt. His hands don’t let me get too far, yanking my hips back to meet his.
The tension in my core expands and peaks, but the straw that breaks me is the feeling of his cum shooting into me. That and his muttered curse, and there goes my second orgasm of the day. He pumps into me throughout my orgasm, riding it out to the very end.
All I can hear is our tired moans echoing in the trees as he slides out of me. Specks of blood coating him and dripping onto my thighs. Leaving me fully satisfied, he tugs by my arm, pulling me to his chest and grabbing his shirt.
He wipes my face first, though it doesn’t help much, and then he wipes between my legs and thighs. His face scrunches as I don’t really get clean, and that bothers him.
“It’s okay. We’ll shower when we get home.”
“I need to clean you, Diora.” His voice comes out demanding, but there is a hint of desperation I wasn’t expecting.
“It’s okay.” I try to smile and move his head, so he’ll see my face, but he is focused on my body.
“I’m supposed to do aftercare. I need it.
I need to take care of you,” he mutters, still wiping at my legs.
I cut him off by swallowing him into a hug, our naked chests pressed together, and I snuggle my head into his neck.
This seems to be more about him than me, which is fine.
I’ve never had aftercare before, not that I’ve been with very many people.
It’s never felt this way before. Never this exciting. Never this satisfying, either.
He rocks us back and forth, kissing the top of my head every few seconds. We stay like that for minutes, maybe until the alarm of the hunt goes off.
“All remaining hunters and prey, please make your way north, back to the front of the arena.” The instructor’s voice comes through what sounds like speakers.
“Aww, man, I lost,” I say, as we head back to the front of the area. Since my dress is ruined, Elliot holds it in one hand, and I wear his shirt, covered in cum, dirt, and sweat. It comes down to my thighs, so it’s enough to be decent, but even then, it doesn’t matter.
No one would touch me here. The Society has a strict “no drama” policy, and getting into a fight here is not worth the hell the Society would bring down. We are all on our best behaviors this weekend.
Elliot walks with a freedom I’ve yet to see and a genuine smile I can’t get enough of. I’m sure my skin is flushed red, and that the state of my hair and the dirt on my face tells everyone what we were up to, but I don’t care.
“I did catch you, Little Crane.”
“That you did, handsome. How about you attend a kill with me, then?”
“Is that really a prize? Watching a newbie?” I slap his arm and glare as he laughs.
“You know you wanna watch me kill again,” I say, swaying my hips as I walk in front of him.
“You’d be right, Little Crane. Who’s next on your kill list?”
“Yara Holding.” The tea party Mrs. Jay wants to throw will take care of the politicians that actually forced their dicks on Juliet, but it doesn’t take care of Yara. I’ve left her for last. A dessert after a meal.
The name makes Elliot pause. Peering down at me, he raises both eyebrows.
“One of my mother’s friends?” he says, scrunching his eyebrows. I’m sure he thinks I’m provoking the beast, but this doesn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Jay and everything to do with justice for Juliet.
“The villain of Juliet’s story,” I correct, grabbing his chest and leaning up to peck his lips. “Are you in or not?”
“Consider it a date, Little Crane.”