Primal Pursuit

Combine that with the rest—the rose tattoo, those thorns and number twelve not inked in yet—and you have a very angry, very sexy woman who gets my blood pumping right to my dick. I wonder if that last thorn will be a different color. Something to denote finding me, perhaps?

God, my fingers itch to touch her.

I came in her ass, her pussy, and now I want to fill her sweet mouth with my jizz, maybe make her hold her mouth open so I can dip a finger in and paint her with it. Anoint the stations of her body.

I sigh as Declan has a naked chick bounce on his cock. He’s in her ass and I can see his cock slide in andout, his eyes lowered as she rides him. I can’t remember her name but she’s fucking stunning. Chestnut hair a man can fist, round, perfect tits that are crowned with nipples like small cherries.

I don’t even know what’s going on in the rest of the club beyond these doors. I don’t need to see the show out there when I have a private one right here.

Watching these two go at it is quite the turn-on, but just enough to get me semi-hard. It’s weird. Usually watching a good fuckery gets me worked up, but tonight it doesn’t stir more than a low-key buzz in my veins.

To my right, Tobias is getting sucked off by a blonde. She’s Amazonian and wears leather and heels to accentuate her height. He loves to face fuck her when she’s on her knees because she’s the kind of switch that leads to being forced to succumb.

She stirs my blood the most in this place, but there’s something about her I know wouldn’t mix with my predilections. She’d never give in to the chase. Never willingly play the part of prey. Plus, she loves to take on three at a time, and sharing isn’t something I’m particularly fond of. I’m a jealous, possessive motherfucker who would slit throats at the slightest threat.

One thing about her, she loves to be served cock, but only when it’s a man she respects.

It’s why she’s here in the depths of Myth. Why she’s a private plaything. Why we use her in deals and to grease certain wheels.

There are men who live for her brand of humiliation, who, when they get her to bow down to them, to toe their line, feel like they’re the king of the world.

She’s worth her absolute weight in gold, and she might be a little in love with Tobias.

Tapping my fingers on the arm of the chair, I continue to watch the debauchery. I try to get myself into it, thinking I should get my own plaything in here and let her suck my cock. But the thought is hardly entertaining and easily dismissed.

There’s only one pair of lips I want to feel around me. Hers. My little rabbit. The thought alone has my dick going from semi- to rock-hard in a second.

My phone pings, and my cock jumps, growing harder as the word ‘rabbit’ comes up.

I take a moment to appreciate the humor of the moment. I’m fucking surrounded by prime pussy, and a text from a rabbit gets me the fuck hot.

How did you get my number?

Wrong fucking question, rabbit.

I smile, waiting, because she’s as hooked as I am. The only difference is I’m better at the game than she is. The hunt. But I’ll give her this—she sure keeps it interesting.

Poppy. It suits her a hell of a lot more than Penelope.

But she’s rabbit to me. Small R. To denote her place.

The little dots appear and disappear on my phone, and I watch them dance and flirt.

I’m not playing your pathetic games.

Laughter bubbles up. Oh, but she is playing. She just can’t help herself. My little rabbit is sniffing the air to see what it holds.

Not even the one where I spread you on a bed, tie you up, and feast on you?

Isn’t that beneath the big bad wolf?

A thrill passes through me, heading straight to my cock.

Of course rabbit saw the tattoo on my chest. It’s fucking big enough. And it gets me going to know she equates me as her wolf, her demise, the creature she’ll surrender to and give it all up for—every last shred of defiance and dignity.

End goal. Inevitable.

But the journey to get there…oh, man, it’s the biggest damn turn-on.