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At His Mercy
Hunter was entirely ruthless in his ministrations this morning. Probing me in a way I’d never been touched. His smooth tongue was warm and easily flexed to reach inside me and cause instinctive bucking and writhing. Scraping the front of my body against the unrelenting bark.
My head was thrown back and I was fighting the urge to unleash the sound he’d been craving.
Hunter is always the fun loving one.
This form of intense, unexpected lovemaking would’ve been something I’d have expected more from Vanquish.
Or even Racer.
He stood behind me. Sweeping my crease with two fingers before he pressed against my side and one shoulder. So, I could feel every hard muscle on his body. He twisted to reach nearly the front of me. Brushing the tiny nub at the front of me in a way that made me moan in objection and press against his hand. Then he slipped it backward, agonizingly slowly. Prolonging my torment.
“Hunter!” I cried out. B
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