Hunter (21 page)

Holy shit, that's hot.

He guided himself toward my mouth. I'd sucked cock before—not often—but I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to drive him wild, but without my hands, I was limited to doing literally what it said on the tin.

Still, I leaned forward and flicked my tongue against the end of his dick. The slight taste of precum already sitting there lingered in my mouth as I cut his slowness short and wrapped my lips around him.

He jerked as I pulled him right into my mouth. I closed my eyes as I bobbed my head back and forth, my tongue working the end of him. I tried several times to reach out and grab his cock, but the bind cut into my wrists and stopped me from doing that.

Minutes later, he stopped me and all but threw me onto the seat. I gasped as my bare back pushed against the glass, but Hunter didn't falter as he pushed my legs open and dropped to his knees. His tongue found my pussy easily, licking from ass to clit. I bucked my hips into him as he focused in on the tiny bundle of nerves, covering all of me with his mouth.

His grip on my legs was almost painful, but he explored my wetness with his tongue until the pleasure overcame me and I rode out my orgasm against his mouth.

He flipped me over onto my side and slapped his hand across my ass. I cried out at the sting that radiated across my skin, but he just chuckled and forced me onto my front. He got on the seat behind me, illuminated by the nighttime lights, and grabbed my hips. He yanked me back and up onto my knees, something I couldn't do myself because of my bound hands, and slapped my other ass cheek.

It was hard. It hurt. It was hot. I loved it.

“You want all of me, Adriana? You want to know who I really fucking am?” he growled, rubbing the end of his cock along my pussy. He grabbed my hair with his other hand and wrapped it around his fist, pulling my head back. “You want to know?”

“Yes!” I pleaded with him although I didn't mean to. I wanted to know, to feel him. I wanted to know exactly who he was because I was guessing still and I hated it.

The one word was all he needed.

He slammed himself inside me. My muscles tensed at the immediate intrusion, and I gasped. He dug his fingers into my tender ass cheek as he thrust his hips. His movements were unrelenting and everything he'd promised me. It was a pure, hard fuck. It was brutal in its force, and I was completely stuck in the position I was in, unable to do anything but lie here.

He slapped my ass again, then reached around in front of me and rubbed my clit with his finger. I moaned loudly as he spread my ass cheek and sat back a tiny bit so every thrust buried his cock inside me deeper.

I was done for. My body swamped with heat. My heart beat so fast I was sure I would die if I didn't reach my orgasm soon. But Hunter was relentless... And he was right.

I begged.

I pleaded.

And...

I screamed.

He collapsed on top of me, his sweaty skin sticking to mine. His harsh, broken breaths fluttered my hair as he finally released it, and I sighed in relief as he undid my thong, letting my hands fall to my sides.

“Do you hate me, yet?” he whispered in my ear, pulling out of me.

I shook my head, my eyes closed. “No. I never could.”

He let out a long, shaky breath, and then kissed the side of my mouth. It was tender, contradicting the way he'd just brutally fucked me. “Good.”

“Hunter?” I asked when he stood up.

“What?”

“What...” I took a moment to gather myself and opened my eyes. “What happened to the pizza?”

His lips tugged up on one side. “It's in the kitchen. I got it when he knocked.”

I frowned and rolled onto my side. “Thank you,” I said when he threw his t-shirt at me. “He knocked.”

“Yeah.” He stopped, his underwear in his hands. “Why else did you think I went out to the front door?”

I opened my mouth but swiftly closed it again.

Well.

That made sense of that.

The laugh echoes off the walls of the room. My laugh. It sounds like a soulless monster's laughter.

It's the only explanation why I'm standing in front of a family of five. Mom, Dad, three teen boys. She's innocent, but I already know her fate—and her boys'. They'll be taken into the arms of Enzio's men, unless they disagree, and then I have a bullet with their name on.

Mom... Poor Mom. She'll be raped by the sick bastards behind me and left for dead. If she's lucky.

Or unlucky. It depends how you look at it.

“Please,” Samuel Amos begs, hugging his wife tighter to his side. “Tell Enzio it was a mistake—it won't happen again! I was let down by Nazio.”

I tilt my head to the side, a cruel smirk forming on my lips. “Really, Samuel? You want
me
to go to my boss and tell him it was a mistake? Again? How many more mistakes are you doing to make before you admit responsibility for your fuck up,
pezzo di merda
? How much mercy do you think Enzio will allow you?”

“Please, Carlo. You're just a boy. Don't do this.”

“Assassino
to you.” I raise the gun an inch and shoot a hole through the wall right above his head. “Your boys.” I wave the gun at all three of them. “Are they coming with me, or are they joining you in the graveyard,
mio amico
?”

“Not my boys,” Lisa Amos sobs next to him. “Please, Carlo, not my boys!”

“
Assassino
,” I growl, turning the barrel of the gun toward her. “Last chance, Samuel, or I'll save your wife the next three hours. What's your choice?”

“Go,” Samuel whispers to them. “It's okay.”

Neither of the three say a thing as they get up from the floor. Lisa sobs, and deep inside me, a spark of guilt flickers. Not enough to care. Not enough to give a shit that they won't make their eighteenth birthdays. They're weak.

“Gui,” I order one of the guys standing behind me. I gesture for him to restrain the three of them. He nods at two of the other giant guys behind me and within seconds, all three are cuffed and shoved from the room. The dining room door slams shut and Gui's rough voice tells them to shut the fuck up.

Samuel looks at me. “Please,
Assassino.
Not my wife. Do anything to me, but spare her. Spare my boys.”

“You knew the rules, Samuel,” I spit. “You were warned last time what would happen if you fucked up again.”

Lisa's scream ricochets from the walls as she's pulled from his side, and when he reaches for her, I dart forward. His nose cracks as my knuckles collide with it, and he falls to his side, blood gushing from it.

“Now, now, Samuel. You know the rules,
mio amico
. She's paying for your sins, you stupid cunt.” I kick his ribs. “You can play, though.” I reach down and grab his scruffy hair, forcing him to look at where his wife is being pinned down. “Where first?” I rasp into his ear. “Her mouth? Her cunt? Or maybe you want to see her pretty ass ripped apart by my boys?”

“Stop it!” He struggles against me.

I ram my foot into his spine and he yells out in pain. “All three? That's okay. They're good at taking rules.”

“Hunter.”

Lisa's shirt is ripped off by Antonio, and now it's his laughter that fills the room. She screams, tears pouring down her cheeks, and fights with all she's worth. She lashes out at Massimo, but he's got at least one hundred and fifty pounds on her, so it's futile.

She screams again. Like someone will hear her.

Massimo slaps her cheek and clamps his hand over her mouth.

“Hunter?”

I press my gun into Samuel's head. “Where is it, Samuel? Her mouth, cunt, or ass? Your choice. I'm sure Ant and Mass can take care of her for you.” He doesn't respond, so I push the gun against him harder. Blood is pooling beneath his cheek. “Fine. Their choice.” I nod toward them, and Antonio grins sadistically as he moves down her body.

“Get ready,
bella signora
,” he says, his grin only widening. “I'm gonna tear your little ass up good.”

“Hunter!”

I jolted awake, sweat covering my skin. The darkness surrounded me, suffocating me, and I rolled out of the bed. I hit the floor before I could steady myself, but I got up quickly. The first thing I felt was fabric, so I tugged, and it turned out I was touching the drapes.

My heart thundered against my ribs. The memory was still so fresh in my mind, so I ripped the curtains open. The bedroom faced the strip, and judging by the way it lit up the sky, it was still the middle of the night.

I leaned against the windowsill and dropped my head down. The lights were harsh and bright, but they helped. Every second they glowed, the memory receded back into the depths of my mind.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a nightmare.

“Carlo?” The concern in her voice cut through the darkness behind me.

“I'm okay,” I reassured her. “Can you switch on the light?”

“Sure.” The sheets rustled as she moved and clicked on the light.

The soft orange glow spread through the room. Not enough to completely banish the darkness, but enough to remind me of the light.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” I lied. “Where's the bathroom up here?”

“There's an en-suite... the door next to the dresser.”

“Thanks.” I pushed away from the window and looked to the side. The door next to the dresser was ajar, so I walked in, pulling the cord for the light as I did. The small room flooded with light, and I closed the door behind me and leaned against it.

My body was slicked with sweat despite the fact I was only wearing my boxers, and my legs shook as I struggled to keep myself standing.

It lingered.

God, the memory lingered.

I rubbed my temples in an effort to push it out of my mind. I didn't want to think about it anymore. I didn't want to remember it.

I took a deep breath and pushed off the door. I looked at myself in the mirror as I bent over the sink and reached for the white towel hanging on the wall. It was soft as I wiped it down my face. I dropped it into the sink and noticed the tiny spot of blood soaking into it, so looked into the mirror.

A trail of red slowly dripped out of my left nostril and down onto my top lip. I wiped at it with the back of my hand before grabbing the towel again and holding it to my nose.

I rolled my shoulders as I tried to stem the light flow of blood and opened the bathroom door. Adriana was sitting in the bed wearing her bra, the covers pooled at her waist, and she had her hair in her favorite braid over her shoulder.

Light gray shadows decorated the skin under her eyes, and she looked at me with concern etched into her expression. “Hunter, you're covered in blood.”

I pulled the towel to the side and looked down at myself. 'Covered' was a slight exaggeration—all right, a big one. There was blood on my hands, but that was it.

“So is the bed.” She frowned, getting up. “Is your nose bleeding?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Lil' bit.”

“Lil' bit?” she mocked. “Are you fucking kidding me? You look like you pissed out blood all over the bed. Jesus. Sit down and I'll change the sheets.” She slid out from beneath the covers and disappeared before I could protest.

I perched on the edge of the window and tilted my head back.

“What are you doing? No, no, no. Head forward, you
idiota.
” Adriana dropped the clean sheets onto the floor and cupped my cheeks. Her soft palms warmed my skin, and she pulled my face down so I was looking at the floor. “Like this, otherwise the blood clogs at the top of your nose. Don't move, okay?”

“Like I have a choice.” The towel muffled my words, but I was pretty sure she heard me, if her quiet scoff was anything to go by.

I closed my eyes as she busied herself changing the bed sheets. I knew better than to ask if she wanted help. She'd already half-yelled at me for sitting wrong with a bleeding nose, so fuck only knew what would happen if I spoke again.

I pulled the towel away and replaced it for a few seconds. When I looked again, it was clean, so I sat up just in time to see her carrying the bundle of dirty sheets out of the room. Her ass shook in her plain white, cotton panties, as she walked across the hall and down the stairs.

I sighed when she disappeared from view, and then I sighed again when I heard the faint opening and closing of the washing machine. Only a woman would wash sheets in the middle of the night.

I scratched beneath my nose, careful not to nudge it in case it'd bleed again, and dropped the towel on the floor in front of me. Why was she washing the sheets at—whatever the hell time it was?

“Hey.” She appeared in the doorway with that as her only introduction. “Are you done with the towel? I just remembered you were using it.”

I blinked at her. “Yeah.”

“Well... Can I have it?” She held an arm out impatiently.

“Uh... sure. Here you go.” I picked it up, rolled it into a ball, and threw it at her.

“Thanks!” She sounded much happier as she caught it and went to turn.

“Why are you washing them?”

She looked over her shoulder, her dark eyebrows dipping together. “Because the blood will stain the fabric if I don't put them on a hot cycle while it's still wet.”

Well, obviously. Let's wash them and not buy new ones, although that's the easy option.

Adriana ran back downstairs on her tiptoes, still wearing nothing but her underwear, and I shook my head. Women.

I went back into the bathroom when the blood on my hand caught my eye. It was starting to dry and go flaky, so I ran the tap until it was warm and then put my hand under the flow of water.

“Fuck!” My hand stung instantly. I snatched it back and killed the water as I realized the blood wasn't from my nose—but from the cut across my knuckle. “Shit!” I pulled some toilet paper from the roll and dabbed at it, but it disintegrated within seconds. I tugged off several more squares until my hand was dry and I could put a ball of it on the cut without it falling apart.