The Hunter's Prey

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The Hunter's Prey Page 12

by Diane Whiteside

“Get on.”

  I sighed, resigned to my fate, and took a quick glance around the parking lot for onlookers.

  “Stephanie.” Ethan’s voice cracked like a whip and I flinched. “When I tell you to do something, just do it. I’ll deal with any bystanders. If I want someone to watch, they’ll do so.”

  “Dammit, Ethan,” I protested.

  His hand lifted my chin so that I had to face him.

  “I like showing off my woman sometimes,” he said evenly. “She had better enjoy it or she won’t be kept around.”

  I bit my tongue against another useless objection.

  “Good girl,” he praised me and picked me up. I squeaked as he settled me onto the passenger’s seat. My butt touched the cool leather and promptly remembered just how long and hard that spanking had been. I wriggled a little, trying to get comfortable. The beads’ tail and ring caught between the seat and my legs, setting a corresponding tug through the beads and up my body. I tried to decide which was worse, my butt wanting to move around or the beads playing me with every twitch.

  He straddled the bike and started it quickly, then handed me a helmet. I was holding it over my head when he spoke again.

  “Just remember that I’m a vampire. The onlookers won’t remember anything if I don’t want them to.”

  My jaw dropped open. I believed him, all right, but what the hell did he have in mind?

  He pulled on his own helmet, making him look like a futuristic knight and effectively ending the conversation. I quickly donned mine and wrapped my arms around him.

  We hadn’t gone two blocks before I realized that the big engine between my legs was torture, pure and simple. Its vibrations sent answering waves through the beads crammed into me. Echoes racked my body, clamoring for more sexual attention.

  My orgasm flowered slowly just before we stopped.

  By then, my head was buried between Ethan’s shoulder blades. I couldn’t think straight because everything I had was focused on the delicious sensations between my legs.

  Ethan efficiently lifted the helmet off my head and strapped it onto the bike.

  I straightened up slowly and looked around. We were at the outer edge of a parking lot filled with other motorcycles. I blinked and looked toward the building beyond the bikes. Its neon sign said simply “Frank’s.”

  I closed my eyes and cursed. I’d only been here once before, a disturbance of the peace that ended in almost thirty arrests. Cops didn’t come here without reinforcements, lots of them. If anyone here knew that I was a cop, I’d be in big trouble.

  I let the thought trail away. I had to trust Ethan.

  I slowly dismounted, moving as cautiously as an old woman with arthritis. My legs had more strength than I expected and I came upright with some semblance of normalcy.

  “Come on.”

  I started toward the building, the beads’ silken tail whispering against the leather. I tried very hard not to think about the beads’ movements inside me or the way that my body was more than willing to climax again.

  Just how many climaxes could one woman have during an evening, anyway? I was starting to be really afraid that Ethan was going to teach me the answer.

  Ethan rubbed my butt idly and I stopped. He continued petting me and I shivered. Then I started walking again.

  We went in quietly and I blinked at the mixture of loud noise and minimal lighting. The only real lights hung above each pool table, making the room a mixture of dark shadows and well-lit stages as men moved around, setting up their shots or chatting to their friends over a drink.

  Ethan headed straight for the bar, keeping his arm around me. I matched his stride, biting my lip as my body’s demand for another orgasm kept building. I wasn’t listening when he spoke to the bartender. I came back to awareness again when he left the bar, holding a bottle in his left hand and his right still firmly against me.

  A few steps saw us through a simple door and down a narrow passage. Another door led to a flight of steep stairs. I gasped when the first step sent my muscles clenching the damn beads in an entirely new and unforgettable fashion.

  “Thinking about a fuck, Stephanie?”

  Too far gone for words, I simply nodded and held on to the rail.

  Ethan chuckled and picked me up, tossing me over his shoulder easily. He patted my ass lightly under the jacket and I swallowed at the sensation. Even the simplest contact now got me excited.

  I closed my eyes to avoid dizziness as Ethan ran up the stairs. He sat me down on a table and I tried to catch my breath, gripping the table edge like a life vest. When he started to unbutton my jacket, I put my hands over his.

  “Ethan,” I whispered.

  He kissed my hands.

  “Hush, Stephanie, and look around.”

  I looked around slowly, prepared for the worst. We were alone in a small private dining room. I started to relax until a wave of sound hit me.

  The private dining room was really just a balcony overlooking the pool hall. Its high railing hid people seated at the tables but allowed anyone standing to see everything happening below. I was on a table against that railing.

  “Now take the jacket off and lie down on your stomach.”

  “But,” I started to protest again.

  “Just do it, Stephanie. They can’t see you on the table. They can only hear you if you get loud.”

  I took a deep breath and got the jacket off as quickly as possible. Then I lay facedown on the long table, thankful that I’m usually a very quiet lover. It was covered with several layers of tablecloths, making it reasonably comfortable and clean.

  I shivered slightly when a breeze from the ceiling fan crossed me. But Ethan’s hands started to rub my back and I sighed, settling down to wait.

  “A friend of mine taught me this way to enjoy an evening many years ago—1859, actually. He called it bourbon with a splash.”

  I yelped when a trickle of liquid ran down my spine, followed by Ethan’s hot tongue.

  “What the hell?”

  “Bourbon, my dear.”

  I twisted my head to see him. His eyes were very green, dancing with mischief as he watched me.

  “I’m going to drink this bottle of bourbon from your body.” He swirled his finger through the traces still beading on my shoulder.

  “Ohmygawd,” was all I could think of to say.

  He took a very long time drinking that bourbon. Every inch of bare skin on my back was anointed with bourbon and then savored with his tongue. He used his teeth too, nipping and scraping me until I was acutely sensitive to the lightest touch. He poured bourbon into the small of my back and then lapped it up like a cat. I shivered and writhed under him, moaning whenever his mouth found a particularly delicious point.

  A thin trickle of bourbon found its way between my buttocks. I gasped and bucked at the totally unexpected intrusion. He spread me open and licked it away leisurely. He anointed me with more bourbon and stroked my folds while he enjoyed my taste. His fingers drove me frantic and I began to beg.

  Ethan’s mouth found my folds for the first time. I shrieked, totally heedless of any listeners, and climaxed.

  Ethan rolled me onto my back and I slumped across the table, too spent for thought. He stroked my breasts, circling and fondling them until they knew more pleasure was waiting. My nipples hardened and ripened under his touch, begging for more attention. Then he bent his golden head and suckled me, so I sobbed and writhed under him. He twisted and bit my nipples roughly, which somehow made me even more excited.

  When I was completely sensitized and eager for his touch again, he began to drink more bourbon from my body. This time he didn’t permit any orgasms, no matter how much I begged. By the time he stopped, I would have willingly fucked every man in the building just to get satisfaction.

  He stood over me and slowly unzipped his leather jeans. I watched greedily as he lifted himself out, his cock gleaming like a ruby in the dim light.

  “Do you want this?”

  “Damn
you, yes,” I hissed and reached for it. He slapped my hand away lightly and stepped back. I whimpered at the loss and looked at his face.

  Ethan grasped my legs and pulled me down the table until I was barely braced on the end. He lifted my legs and spread them, opening me wide. I shuddered when my aching folds rubbed against his cock. I happily draped my legs over his shoulders, eager to be taken by him.

  He entered me with a single quick thrust that left him buried to the hilt. He watched me adjust to the intense fullness within, from his big cock and the damn beads. Then he started to piston in and out of me, every movement deliberately rubbing against the beads through the thin but agonizingly sensitive membrane that separated them. I writhed and sobbed, my arousal building with every moment that saw me unfulfilled.

  Then a single blunt finger rubbed my clit. I wailed as the first climactic pulse hit me. I shouted when he yanked the beads out of me fiercely, shooting me into a full-body orgasm. I didn’t care how much noise we made; I was too damn glad.

  I was barely aware when he climaxed.

  I drifted for some time until I felt something sliding into my behind.

  “Ethan?” I mumbled.

  “Relax, Stephanie. I’m almost done.”

  I woke up more when I realized that he’d filled my asshole with something bigger and stiffer than the beads. I didn’t want to fight any more of Ethan’s ideas though.

  “What did you do to me?” I murmured.

  “There’s a butt plug up your ass and a dildo in your cunt.”

  My eyes snapped open at his matter-of-fact response. I wriggled my hips slightly and my muscles clenched in response, tightening around two large, thick shafts. He really had stuffed me.

  I gulped, feeling my body ache as it tried to adapt.

  Ethan quickly anchored the two shafts to a leather strap passed between my legs and outside the chaps. He fastened that to a leather belt.

  A jolt of pure hunger ran through me when I realized that I was locked up, available only to him.

  “Now sit up and put your jacket on.”

  I obeyed Ethan quietly, more aware of the pressure within me than my undressed condition.

  “Wait!” he snapped and I froze, leaving the jacket unbuttoned.

  He bent his head to my mouth and I kissed him back, willingly yielding to him. His kiss was deep and hit me like a drug. When he lifted his head, I braced my hands behind me for support, arching my breasts toward him unconsciously.

  “Very nice,” he murmured and suckled me. I enjoyed his attentions shamelessly, twisting under him to make sure that both breasts received equal attention. He chuckled and attended me until my nipples became hard buds. I was as eager for sex as if I hadn’t had a man in months.

  He stopped and I saw a flashing bit of metal in his hand. It caught my nipple a moment later and I gasped at the unaccustomed pain. It didn’t hurt too much though and soon turned into a dull ache. Then another clamp bit down on my other breast.

  I swore softly but accepted them, seeing my nipples turn red as berries beyond them.

  “Good girl,” Ethan murmured and I flushed at the rare praise. He buttoned the jacket quickly so that my engorged nipples pressed against its silk lining. Then he lifted me onto my feet.

  “You’re going to walk out of here now, Stephanie. I want to watch you as those shafts fill you and the jacket rubs you.”

  My eyes widened. I could feel the first aches starting where he had mentioned. I nodded in response.

  “Now, Stephanie.”

  I walked to the door slowly, acutely aware of every shift and tremble within me. The silk rasped my breasts until I almost forgot the clamps’ pain.

  Ethan took his time getting us outside. I wanted to scream at him to hurry so we could get away from the knowing eyes that never looked at us directly. I also wanted to go more slowly so I would have a better chance of regaining my poise after every pulse that the two shafts sent through me.

  I didn’t think about the effect the motorcycle would have on me until we stood in front of it. When I realized that, I cursed its ancestry in terms that would have gotten me thrown out of any football or baseball game.

  Ethan lifted me onto the motorcycle and handed me the helmet. He didn’t speak, although his eyes were bright with amusement and hunger.

  Awareness seeped through me as I considered the future. Then I smiled back at him, confident of his need for me. I knew he would feed from me.

  We rode out on the Harley at a brisk pace, faster than I would have taken that narrow road. But I trusted Ethan’s vampire reflexes and gave myself up to enjoyment. The dildo and butt plugs throbbed inside me, like the pleasure to come. My nipples ached in a constant reminder of his attentions.

  I tightened my arms around Ethan and rubbed myself deliberately against his back. His hard strength made my breasts hurt more, reminding me of previous encounters when he had suckled them until they bled. We jolted across a bump and the first climax rocked me.

  Ethan glanced back over his shoulder at me but I couldn’t see his expression through the helmet’s visor. I rubbed myself against him again. His hand squeezed my knee and I closed my eyes at the caress.

  We paused once at a railroad crossing. I dropped my hands down into his lap and played with him.

  Unfortunately, the train was gone before I could unzip his leathers.

  I was lost in my own world of wind and lust when the motorcycle stopped, my body soft and sated. I smiled at Ethan when he took my helmet off.

  “You reek of bourbon and sex, woman.”

  “Yes, sir,” I agreed. It was obviously wise to agree with Ethan, especially when he spoke the truth.

  “A night in the drunk tank is definitely called for.”

  “What?”

  My brain clicked back into action with a rush and I looked around quickly. We were parked behind San Leandro’s police station with no other vehicles around. It was a small station, suitable for a rural town that only needed one cop on night duty.

  I stared up at Ethan, trying to understand.

  “You ever fantasized about being a prisoner? Ever wanted to be locked up and used until your body faded from pleasure?”

  I nodded slowly.

  “Then stand up, prisoner, so we can carry out your sentence.”

  I dismounted to stand on legs shaky from past pleasures and fear of the immediate future.

  Ethan quickly cuffed my hands, linking them to a belt, before he shackled my feet. I shuffled experimentally, recognizing the chains as those used for transporting prisoners. A little voice inside me shouted in anticipation, as I understood my helplessness. It felt so damn good to be purely feminine and not have to worry about being in control.

  Ethan led me into the police station. I hesitated when I saw the camera above the door.

  “Relax, Stephanie. It’s not working tonight. I don’t want a record of this either.”

  I nodded and shuffled after him down the hallway, finding no other cameras around.

  “Face the wall, prisoner.”

  I obeyed quickly. Ethan kicked my feet apart expertly, then ran his hands over me harshly and efficiently.

  I trembled at the touch, so familiar from my own past actions but so different when done by my lover.

  He unbuttoned the jacket and slid it down my shoulders. Then he stroked my breasts, plumping them in his hands and running his fingers out towards the tips. I leaned back against him in a haze of sensation.

  He turned me to face him and smoothly plucked the clamps off one at a time. I groaned as pain rushed into my nipples. Ethan licked and sucked my breasts, combining pleasure with agony until I ached.

  “Please,” I whispered, unsure of what I wanted.

  Ethan guided me into the jail cell, an old-fashioned one with a barred door. I dropped to my knees at his rough command and leaned over the cot. Shamelessly, eagerly, I circled my hips in invitation. The only thing that mattered to me now was getting him inside me.

  I felt hi
s heat when he knelt behind me. He rubbed himself against me and I moaned at the feel of the smooth leather that separated me from him. The belt fell away and his hand ran down my belly, finding and jostling the dildo in my cunt.

  I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. My need for him was a deeper agony than what crowned my breasts.

  “Now comes the splash, Stephanie, when my cream spills out of your backside.”

  He twisted the plug, screwing it into my backside. I gripped it with deep unfamiliar muscles, welcoming the connection with him.

  He growled when my seeking hips rubbed against his hand. My need surged and shouted at his response. He yanked the plug free and I gasped at the sudden emptiness.

  Then I felt the blunt tip of his cock press against my ass. I pushed back to welcome it and felt it slip in. I froze in panic at its size, fatter than anything I had accepted before. Then I remembered the satisfaction he had given me earlier. My muscles remembered how he had trained them to spread at his touch.

  He kept still until my body softened and opened for him. Then he slid into me on a slow, steady wave.

  I burned, but the pain of stretching quickly became a delicious agony of fullness. I braced my hands on the cot underneath me. Then he began to move.

  He rode me with an intensity that demanded everything of me. I enjoyed it like nothing I had ever felt before. I was his woman to use as he chose. His raw hunger spurred me into an answering frenzy. Our grunts and snarls sounded primitive and entirely suitable for that harsh room.

  I tried hard not to come before he did. I wanted to feel every slightest pulse of him deep inside me.

  Ethan didn’t permit that, of course. He leaned over my back like a wolf and nuzzled my neck. He licked and sucked at the pulse there until I twisted under him, forgetting everything else. He bit down hard and fast so that blood erupted between us, catapulting me into an orgasm that took over my entire body.

  I felt his hot cream burst inside me.

  I woke up the next morning back in my shabby motel room. I don’t know when he brought me back but I do remember that he had me more than once in that little cell.

  My wrists and ankles were only slightly sore from the cuffs and shackles. The bite marks on my neck took longer to heal than usual but they’re gone now.

 

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