Chapter 7
FIONA
“You...you killed all those people?”
“I can see I’ve upset you. That wasn’t my intention.”
Am I upset?
Yes—I’m so upset. My life was destroyed the moment the dead rose when my mother was mauled stepping out onto the porch to see why the sirens were blaring. Stupidly, I clung to my boyfriend, thinking he could keep me safe.
I was a fool.
But Hunter isn’t like him. He never sold me. He did terrible things to a terrible person. Then he asked me to fuck him afterward. It wasn’t his fault Caspian kidnapped me.
I get up from my seat, fixing my gaze on Hunter.
He pulls his chair out, taking a defensive position. “I’d just like to point out that if you’re planning on attacking me, the most likely outcome is that you’ll hurt yourself.”
It seems like such a Hunter thing to say.
Ignoring his words, I approach him, wondering how best to show my appreciation.
As much as I’d love to throw myself onto his lap and kiss him, he’d likely find that offensive. He’s made it clear he doesn’t kiss or cuddle, and the last thing I need is for him to see me as cumbersome and exhausting.
So I drop to my knees and bite my lip, making my intentions clear.
He looks down at me with a curious expression. I have no doubt that he’s incredibly intelligent, but he clearly has a hard time picking up on social cues. Probably because of his nature.
He undoes his belt, shifting his body until his cock springs free. “You confuse me, Fiona.”
I crawl forward, more than a little nervous.
Hunter’s cock isn’t just thick. It’s long, with a prominent vein running the length that I swear I can feel when he’s fucking me. The head is bulbous, weeping pre-cum. Even with my training on Salem Street, there’s no way I’ll be able to take him all in. I’ve never been good at deepthroating, and Hunter would be challenging to even a sword swallower.
I grab his length to give it a go, hoping he’ll appreciate the effort. The moment my mouth closes around the tip, Hunter tenses, his hand grabbing my head where my wound is. I shudder in response, and he snatches his hand away.
“Sorry.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I glide my mouth down his shaft, inch by inch, trying to muster enough saliva to work it properly.
“Oh, fuck,” Hunter mutters, his hips shifting with every bob of my head. His flavor fills my mouth, which is unexpectedly arousing to me. Even when I’d sucked my ex, whom I loved, I enjoyed no part of it except that I was giving him pleasure.
Pleasure he never cared to return.
With Hunter, I love all of it. His size. His taste. The steely silk texture. I love his reaction, and how he’s struggling to gain control. I love his rushed breaths that are turning into pants.
“Fiona…” he says, his voice strained.
I slide my mouth as far down his shaft as I can.
“I’m close…”
I moan around his cock so he can see that I’m enthusiastic.
“Fuck…”he growls, and just when I feel I’m about to gag, thick streams of cum shoot down my throat.
He’s like a volcano exploding inside me, filling me with heat. I take it all, sucking it down with audible gulps, because I know men like that sort of thing.
