The Hunt

by Nichole Greene

I am not a good guy. Feeling Violet’s cold, clammy skin pressed against mine should make me want to protect and take care of her. Instead, all I can think about is how much I want to pinch her pretty pink nipples when they graze my arm as she rolls to face me. How much I want to sink my fingers into her soft flesh, squeezing and kneading until she’s covered in my handprints and bruises, leaving no doubt to whom she belongs.

We stare at each other through glassy eyes, hurt coloring the air between us, as we finally see each other for the first time in seven years.

I don’t see the bully of my high school years anymore. I see the little boy that I went walking through creeks with. The little boy who didn’t complain when I made him wear Barbie bandaids and who held my hand while my dad cleaned my cuts. I see the little boy who held me at my parents’ funeral and promised to protect me forever.

“I was an eleven-year-old orphan,” I whisper through tears. “I had just lost my parents. My home.” Another tear rolls ...

I trace each of the light stretch marks with my tongue in playful licks and open mouth kisses. They’re so fucking beautiful.

I smile as I feel him running his fingers absently over my stretch marks. The attention he pays to my stomach and hips probably borders on fetishization, but I’m starting to enjoy it.

“There’s going to be a reckoning.”

Now that I’ve seen her again, I’m like a junkie itching for my next fix, and I’m not sure how long I can wait.

Ghost and Storm open their eyes but don’t judge. Blue, on the other hand, is looking at me with their beady, black eyes full of judgment.

We just have to make sure not to damage that trust while still pushing her limits in ways she doesn’t even know she likes yet. She’s ours. Ours to hurt. Ours to protect. Ours to worship. We’re never letting her go now, she just needs to come around to it.

“Patience, sweet Cherry,” Cody says with a sadistic smile. I don’t understand what it is, but when he’s like this, I want to kneel at his feet, basking in the praise and dirty words falling from his filthy mouth.

“If you feel as though you need punishment, come to me and I’ll give it to you. But you will not continue to punish yourself for this.” Her eyes flare as my fingers tighten. “Understood?”