Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

Wanted him to sit on my goddamn face.

But I wasn’t in control right now, and I was terrified of hurting his fragile human flesh. So I settled for fucking him as well as I could without it. My hand fell to my cock, even though what I really wanted was to climb on top of him and force it inside him. My nails pricked my own flesh as I rutted into my tight grip at the same time my saliva dripped down the crack of his ass and my tongue wriggled deeper.

When Jeffrey came for the second time that night he clenched around me. A pitiful, overwhelmed little sob escaped him. His scent was needy-soft-overstimulated. This flicker of twitches that had my head spinning and my cock drooling. I came all over my fist only seconds later, unable to help myself, my fingers twisted tight around the base of my knot to prolong the pleasure. His sticky hole clung to my tongue, sucking at me.

Jeffrey circled his hips, once, twice, three more times before he wiggled off my tongue, and fell to his belly onto the mattress with an exhausted groan. His legs were sprawled wide, hole gaping at me. I grinned, unable to help myself as I leaned forward and buried my face between his cheeks again to suck a few more kisses against it.

“Jesus Christ,” Jeffrey trembled, reaching back to tangle his fingers in my hair as my tongue slipped inside the tight clutch of his body again. “Fuck. You can’t?—”

“I can,” I argued, though I had a face full of ass so it wasn’t very articulate.

“Fuck.” Jeffrey didn’t argue again. My fangs dug into his sweat damp skin but he didn’t seem to mind. He let me suck kisses against his pretty hole. Let me lick the crease at the back of his thighs, even though he claimed it tickled. He let me suck hickeys along the tops of his ass cheeks. In the dimples there. Up his spine. Along the back of his neck. Let me lick his armpits, down his arms, and the insides of his wrists. Let me snuffle and skim my nose behind his balls, and across them, let me taste and taste and taste. He let me rub my cum onto his ass, the backs of his thighs.

Let me kiss and bite my way down his hamstrings, suck the backs of his knees till he kicked, then down to his angular, gorgeous feet. I gave each toe a lingering suck before he finally, dazedly, pushed me off, with a sweet little whimpery complaint.

He stunk of me.

Reeked of me.

My mate.

My pretty, pretty mate. With all his speckles. And his clever games. And his hole that begged to be bred.

I curled around his back after arranging him beneath the blankets, my teeth held snug but gently around the back of his neck—like he was a pup in need of punishment. And we fell asleep like that. Together.

Sated.

Sticky.

The way we were supposed to be.

The way I knew we wouldn’t be for long.

It should’ve felt weird to have someone else in my space. Like a violation. But it didn’t.

Because I wanted Mutt with me always, and I was coming to terms with that fact. Which was why it wasn’t fucking fair. None of this was.

A week had passed since Mutt’s return and I was no closer to answers. Every day the moon loomed high in the sky, and my resentment for it grew.

Today I’d convinced Avery to take me to a town on the outskirts of Ridgefield, looking for answers from one of the local hunters. His name was Allen. He’d been kind, worked at a crematory, and was soft spoken. But he’d been unable to help me. He even directed me to one of the main lodges in the area, as there were two, but I wasn’t ready for that yet.

Wasn’t ready to mingle with the people Lydia had raised me to fear.

I was supposed to be one of them but I wasn’t.

And every day, I considered calling Lydia.

Considered facing my monster so I could save Mutt.

The tickets I’d bought burned a hole in the back of my mind. The knowledge that I was only a plane ride away from her, hanging like a cloud over my head. It was a last resort. A last resort that grew more tempting with every day that passed.

Only…deep down I knew even if she could help me she wouldn’t.

And I didn’t want to waste any of the time I had with Mutt.

But still…memories assaulted me as they often did when I thought of Lydia.

The weight of a gun in my hand. The scent of blood in the air. The laughter as bodies fell and hunters celebrated their deaths like it was an accomplishment and not murder. I’d done my best to block them out, but there was only so much I could do.