And then his hand moves down, and he strips off my shorts and panties in one motion. I cry out, barely keeping my voice down. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He’s no longer listening to me, I know because I know how poor his listening skills become when he’s concentrated on watching me. And right now, he’s in one of those trance-like states he falls into whenever he gets lost staring at me.
His jaw clenches. He swallows hard, his eyes fixed on my bare flesh. My head snaps down at the feel of something cool grazing my thigh, it’s my gun.
He parts my thighs with his knee. I try to clamp them shut, to hide myself from him, but it’s impossible. He drags the tip through my folds, from my entrance to my clit. My eyes flutter shut; my breath catches as the cold metal meets the heat coming from me.
“Why are you so wet, baby?”
I force my eyes open, drag air into my lungs. My heart slams against my ribs as I see the muzzle, glistening with my arousal.
“It has nothing to do with you. I love gunplay, and I’m wet for the gun.”What the fuck am I saying?It sounds good to my ears, though.Yes. I’m wet for the gun.
He chuckles. “Such a beautiful liar.”
“Think whatever you want. I hate you, and there isn’t a single cell in my body that wants you.”
The amusement vanishes from his face. “Don’t provoke me into proving you wrong, I’m already tempted enough. The only thing holding me back is the thought of you torturing yourself with that stupid guilt.”
He looks down, then back at my face. “I will make you come. Decide the way you want me to do it. I need to see you come and fill my ears with your moans to stay sane for one more week.”
My thighs clench, or at least try their best to clench, at his words. More wetness gushes out of me. But I don’t answer his question. I don’t want to give him my explicit consent, how will I dump all the blame on him later if I do?
He brings the gun back to my folds. “Since you claim to like gunplay, let’s play out your fantasy.”
I bite down on my lower lip, trapping the moan as he rubs my clit with the barrel.
“Don’t hold back your moans, or I might stop playing out your fantasy and start playing out mine.”
He slides the tip lower and pushes it inside. My back bows off the bed; a moan tears from my throat.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I obey. He holds my gaze while fucking me with the gun. The lust in his eyes feeds mine until I’m on the edge of losing my mind. Seconds away from begging him to fuck me.
He angles the barrel until the tip finds that exact spot. My eyes roll back at the sharp, blinding sensation.
“Fuck. This was a bad idea,” he grits out, but his hand doesn’t stop, doesn’t ease the pressure.
In no time, my insides clench around the barrel, and I come. Hard. So hard my spine arches clean off the bed and I lose myself entirely. I float in a state of blissful, numbing darkness for a long time. When I open my eyes, he’s licking the gun, like a man starved.
He tosses it onto the bedside table when he’s finished, with the frustration of a beast who got only a drop of my taste when he needed to devour me whole.
He pulls my shorts back up, then seizes my chin, his stare still thick with undiluted lust. “Don’t let him touch you. I’ll come back in a week.”
He releases my wrists and turns to leave, but I stop him, my hand closing around the thick, hard curve of his bicep. He turns his head, looks at my hand on his arm, then at my face.
“Don’t go.”
“Do you know what you’re asking for?”
I nod. “Stay until I fall asleep.”
Once he leaves, the darkness he keeps at bay will come slithering back. And this time, the guilt and hatred waiting for me will be worse than ever. I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive it.
Hunter
I frown. This isn’t a typical request, and I need to know the reason behind it. I have a feeling I should be afraid of whatever that reason is.
