Page 63 of Hunter

“Food demon,” I pant, trying to catch my breath. “She wants dinner.”

He huffs a laugh against my neck, but doesn’t let me go. Instead, his hands slide under my cropped hoodie, palms hot against my skin as he slowly pushes the fabric up. “Then feed her. Quickly.”

I shiver as he tugs the hoodie up and over my head in one smooth motion, leaving me shirtless. The cool air hits my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his gaze dragging over my chest. He leans in and mouths at my collarbone, teeth grazing lightly as I try to walk us toward the kitchen.

Sofia keeps climbing my leg, meowing insistently. And I grab her, cradling her between us as I turn in his arms to grab her food down.

“Fuck—hold on, baby,” I mutter, half to her, half to the man currently sucking a mark onto my neck.

Hunter doesn’t stop. One of his hands pops the button on my jeans with practiced ease, fingers dipping just under the waistband, teasing the sensitive skin there. I stumble a little as I reach for Sofia’s food container, nearly knocking it over.

He chuckles darkly against the side of my throat. “Need help?”

“No—yes—fuck,” I gasp as he palms me through my jeans, rubbing the heel of his hand against my aching cock. I’m so hard it hurts. I manage to scoop some food into Sofia’s bowl with shaking hands and set it on the floor.

The second the bowl hits the ground, Sofia hops out of my arms and dives in, purring like she’s in heaven.

Hunter doesn’t waste a second.

He spins me around again, pressing my bare back against the fridge. His mouth is back on mine instantly. One big hand slides down my stomach and into my open jeans, wrapping around my aching cock with a firm, perfect grip.

“Fuck,” I gasp into his mouth as he strokes me slowly, thumb teasing over the head, spreading the precum that’s already leaking everywhere.

“You’re so hard for me,” he murmurs against my lips, voice dark and satisfied. “Been like this since the alley?”

I nod frantically, hips jerking into his fist. “Since you kissed me. Maybe longer.”

He groans and bites my bottom lip, stroking me faster while his other hand yanks my jeans and briefs down just enough to free me completely. The cool air hits my wet cock, and I shiver hard, but his body heat keeps me burning.

Sofia is crunching loudly in her bowl, completely unbothered by the two horny men making out two feet away from her dinner.

Hunter drops to his knees so suddenly I nearly lose my balance. He looks up at me, and the sight alone almost makes me come on the spot.

“Been wanting to taste you since the first time I saw you in those tight fucking jeans,” he says.

Then his mouth is on me.

Hot. Wet. Perfect. He takes me deep in one slow slide, tongue pressing along the underside, throat working around me like he was made for this. I cry out, one hand flying to his hair, the other gripping the edge of the counter next to me so hard my knuckles go white.

“Hunter— fuck⁠—”

He hums around me, the vibration shooting straight up my spine. His hands grip my hips, holding me still as he bobs his head, taking me deeper each time, eyes locked on mine the whole time like he wants to watch me fall apart.

I’m shaking. Moaning. Babbling nonsense. My thighs are trembling, and I’m already embarrassingly close.

He pulls off with a wet pop, lips shiny, and strokes me with his fist while he looks up at me.

“Not yet,” he growls. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

I whine at the loss, hips jerking forward desperately, but he tightens his grip at the base of my cock, cutting off the building orgasm with ruthless precision. The edge is sharp and painful and so fucking good.

“Please—” I gasp.

Hunter leans in and drags his tongue slowly up the underside of my cock, teasing the head with little flicks that make my knees buckle.

“You’re not coming until I say so,” he murmurs. “I want you desperate. I want you fucking crying for it.”

He takes me back into his mouth, slower this time, torturously slow, working me right back to the edge with perfect suction and wicked tongue work. Just when I start shaking, thighs trembling, right on the brink⁠—