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Hunter's Rose

Hunter's Rose

Ava Jean

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"Kneel," I growled, pushing her down. She did as she was ordered without hesitation. I purred, praising her submissiveness, and trailed a thumb along her lips. I closed my eyes and saw my Rose kneeling in front of me, her jet-black eyes piercing me like thorns and her fragrance, flavoring my darkened soul. .... A princess in darkness could only wish for her knight in shining armor to the rescue. Driven by passionate desires and lost in a sinful one until there's a displacement of purpose, want, and vision. An angel on the street but a demon on the bed. Like an itch, she soothes and pricks. Saddled by the responsibility of her actions from three years ago, she thought it was over but unknown to her it had only begun. An object of imaginative reality could only be allowed a chance to breathe. Enraged by the occurrence of three years ago, wealth and power became his monumental compensation. Although he looked like a God, he won't hesitate to send you straight to hell. His bloodline has left him merciless against his prey and his rise to the top of the consortium was a ride to hell and beyond. The scars on him were the testament of his brooding and the tattoos on him were writings of the stories and secrets he had. One thing for each. In Babel, mercy means weakness, and love was often lust Sharpened by the edges of the sword and brooded in the darkest of tunnels and formed into a beast. Trained to destroy, kill and overcome until he meets again after three years, the person he least expects and loses the one he never knew he had. A new rage is born!

Chapter 1 Strangers

CHAPTER ONE

Aria

He tossed back his drink. So did I. He refilled the glasses. My eyes prickled as I swallowed the fiery fluid and the band silenced before a drum roll. After two vodka shots, I finally was ready to start my night afresh as I allowed the stranger to lead me to the dance floor.

We followed the slow rhythm of the song with my leg encircling his thigh while his crotch pressed deep into my stomach. I ran my hand all over his upper body starting from the back of his neck, to his hair, his chest, and lastly, his waistline. I pressed tighter into his erection which elicited a hiss from him. His green eyes got darker with lust and his breath heavier and hotter. His hands caressed my lower body from my waistline downwards as though it belonged to him.

Again, I bite my lips and moaned.

"If you do that again, I'll spank your soft round ass and then fuck you right on the floor of this club and make you lean on the counter while I fuck you from behind" There was something in the way he said those words that confirmed he meant every word. I bite my lips as I stare down at his lip. This man right here was everything I'm scared about but just looking at him made me want to get laid. I was too turned on.

We swayed from side to side each lost in their thoughts. I lifted my head and caught him staring at me. His gaze was so fierce that it dehydrated me. Instinctively, I used the tip of my tongue to wet my rough lips and suckled on them to give them some softness, but on looking up, the stranger's irises were dilated with a shadow of something I couldn't quite decipher, and then he leaned down and kissed me.

It was at first a soft and tender kiss tasting lime and salt from the shots we just had. That lingering tang faded as I tasted his tongue and offered my tongue for him to sample. We kissed as if one of us, or both of us, needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

I was wobbly in high heels. My legs hurt. My heart hurts and was popping in my chest like champagne bubbles. He looked into my eyes. I knew what he was thinking. I was thinking the same. The immediacy made my pulse race "Your place?" he asked, holding up my chin. He knew he had me where he wanted. Although skeptical, I mumbled. "Sure"

****

The lamp on my desk belonged to my godmother...hahaha, she wasn't a fairy. It is an art-deco figure of a stallion in beaten steel-aluminum porcelain. There was an old traditional sofa, two leather strainer chairs, and a drawing of a fairy on the wall. I'd have sworn I had every inch of the room memorized. But right now, It looked sexily different.

I pouted my lips. He grinned.

"They are beautiful." I ran my tongue over them. They felt chapped on the surface.

"Do you mean that?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't. And sexy too" now I was confused. My room was sexy?

"How?" I asked, looking at the corners of my room.

"You. Your body. Your lips. Your eyes. The sharpness of your tongue... They are sexy. You are sexy" he said provocatively, as though he wanted his point to hit and it did.

I felt beautiful. I couldn't tell if it was the insane amount of alcohol in my system but this man was effortlessly easing the hurt.

I looked at him and thought he was rather good-looking in that tousled neck-length, dark copper hair, firm-jawed-needs-a-shave sort of way; small grey eyes full of secrets-hooded but enchanting, wide shoulders covered in tattoos and packed in a shirt two size too big for him. There would be enough space to run my hand through... Thick full lips that were slightly parted and muscular arms that would easily pin me against the wall and heavy, fitted athletic thighs to lock me in place, a firm waistline to press into my groin... the list is endless but it ends with the luscious piece of pulsating flesh- nine inches of thick pointer flesh and two-palms-joined- to be able to hold its thickness.

Check!

"You could feel them too, you know?" He asked, but before I could reply, he was directly at my face taking in my carbon dioxide.

He drew me to him, pressing his hands against my back. I was trapped, encircled, gathered up, and protected. Our heads adjusted, and our lips moved in for a second tasting, slower, more ponderous, intentional, and real. His hands slid under my short skirt, and the thing that went through my head was: oh, God, I wish I wasn't wearing tights. I wriggled free and dragged him towards the bedroom where I turned on the lamp. I dragged him over to my big bed.

He grabbed me. He pressed his teeth against my neck, just gently, and I forgot to breathe. I am a give-it-to-me kind of person and I liked how he was giving me all-the right amount of pleasure my body could take and a little extra to have me floating on air, with his rough big palm plastered on my lower back as my anchor, my guide, my compass.

He pressed into me. Ha, I could feel his thick flesh of nine-inch swelling against my stomach, pushing at me like the head of a kitten pushing at a closed door. I ran my tongue over the bristles of his chin, his neck, his chest, and his collarbone. He released my ass as I slid down to my knees. I patiently unhooked his belt, unbuttoned the buttons on his weaved velvet, and tugged at his boxers. I liked slow, sensual, yet hard and pensive fuck. Rough thrusting into my hole was it for me.

His cock was straight, firm and, in the dull light of the lamp, the head was pink-like and coated with glistening wetness just like his lips. I sucked the cap and ran my fingers over the surface. He sighed. He relaxed. it was just so gloriously sensual being down on my knees like this and I wanted to swallow him whole like I'd do to a dipped strawberry in beaten cream.

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