Erotica Hunter Novels & Stories

Clearly satisfied with my little incoherent whispers, he rewards me by picking up the moisture between my legs and spreading it over each beak, and thus slips and rubs the nipples with a viscous and rough touch on the fingers. Gradually your tongue ventures through the entrance of my femininity, penetrating me with a sôfrega will. I am burning with desire and shaking involuntarily, presenting myself with every wet caress that Hunter offers me. I get lost again. Dizzy, surrendered, inevitably vulnerable. I feel the fury with which my soul cries out for more and I gasp a little louder, crazy.

I smiled gently. “You have a warrior’s body.” I ran my fingers down a particularly ropey scar down her side. “What was this one from?” “Bobby Brown,” she said. “A werewolf that liked to hunt human children. He had a thing for their hearts. He’d barbecue them.” She shuddered with the memory. “He had killed my client’s nephew. Took me a week but I got him. Brought his heart to my client as proof.” She spoke matter of factly, no pride in her voice. She might not be proud of herself, but I was impressed. I had heard of Bobby Brown and had heard of the hunter that got him. I didn’t realize it was her.

I nodded frantically. He sped up, the wet slap of skin echoing. “Come for me. Let the city watch how badly you need a man who isn’t yours to have.” The orgasm slammed into me hard legs shaking, a cry tearing from my throat as I pulsed around him. Lucas followed moments later, driving deep and flooding me with heat, his groan low and possessive against my neck. He stayed inside me afterward, arms bracketing my body against the glass, almost protective. His lips brushed my shoulder.

He called. "You want it right?" She smirked at him. Connor gulped. She pointed to Hunter. Then, he quickly set up Hunter in his cage with a few more treats. He washed his hands carefully while she's bending down at the counter table. He quickly wiped off his hands and held her waist. "I'm horny now," Johanna mumbled. "Yes…" He quickly pushed down his khaki shorts and rubbed them to her wet core. He kissed her neck down to her shoulders while his hands worked to her breasts. "Jo…" He mumbled.

He's dripping salt on my tongue, thighs shaking on either side of my head, my name coming out of him in pieces. "Dax. Dax, if you don't..." I pull off. "Turn over. Hands and knees." He turns over. No argument, no counteroffer, which tells me more about the state of him than the begging duel ever could. I spread him open and lick over his hole, and the noise he makes into my pillow is one of the great achievements of my life. I take my time there too. Flat and slow, then pointed, working him soft and open on my tongue, one hand smoothing up his spine when it bows, listening to Noah Hunter, the most controlled man in this town, come apart into bedding that smells like both of us all over.

The Hunter whose one look set her pussy ablaze. "You lived out your dream. Now, I'll indulge in mine." He touched her between the legs. Shudders zapped through her limbs, listening to his razor-sharp voice. She opened a portal to hell for herself. And Hunter MacIntyre, the devil, was here to oppress her before throwing her into an oblivion of pleasure. Tbc...

But my pulse doesn’t believe it. I reach for the drawer, pull out the thick, curved glass vibrator I save for the highest payers. The chat erupts in frantic $2 and $5 spam. I don’t look. LeatherLurker tipped $800. LeatherLurker: when you come, scream my name LeatherLurker: beg like I’m right behind you I freeze, glass cool against my thigh. He’s not here. He can’t be. But the words crawl under my skin anyway.

I squealed in mock terror. “You’ve awakened a hungry monster, Luna. It needs to be fed.” Hunter pinned me to the bed, straddling me. “Oh? And what does the hungry monster want?” I laughed up at him, teasingly slicking my tongue over my lips. “To eat this…” he said as he dove between my legs, tearing at my panties with his teeth. ***

Our relationship was so dry I could've fucked half the city and she wouldn't have noticed. That's when I saw him. Tristan. Except he went by "Hunter" on the app. No face pic, just his torso. All muscle and ink and scars. His bio said: "7 feet. Russian. Into twinks who can take it rough." My dick got so hard so fast I thought I'd pass out. I stared at that photo for twenty minutes. Just stared. At the tattoos snaking across his ribs. At the v-line disappearing into black briefs. At hands that looked like they could crush skulls.