Page 119 of My Treasured Obsession

Fuck, he was such an alpha.

Like a good girl, I kept my eyes on Hunter as he inserted one inch, two inches, three inches, and fuck the entire neck of the empty champagne bottle into my pussy. My back bowed at the welcomed intrusion, my toes curled in my heels, and my breath caught in my throat…until he started slowly sliding the makeshift toy in and out of my snug channel. The cold glass against my warm arousal only heightened my desire in a way I couldn’t fully comprehend or explain. I just knew that I needed him to keep going. “Oh my God.”

His eyes darkened at the sight of my pussy stretched and leaking arousal on the glass surface. His free hand came totweak and slap my nipples the way I liked, while his other kept thrusting the champagne bottle inside of me like it was his cock.

“More, Hunter.” Gasping moans slipped out of me. My walls clenched around the impromptu glass dildo. Hunter lavished my breasts with attention and I pushed them together for him, facilitating his access as he alternated between licking and sucking each of my hardened peaks. “Please.”

“You’re beautiful filled to the brim, Gabriela. Like a filthy little plaything showing her favourite footballer some groupie love.” His fingers rubbed my clit in time with the bottle’s thrusts, caressing the very spot inside my pussy that turned me cross-eyed. The prominent veins along his forearm would be enough to make me come, if not for that sinful crooning voice. “I want you to picture something. Your scumbag ex. Walking in on us. At this very moment.” The tip of his tongue traced one nipple before he gently bit and tugged, a retaliation for the way I’d treated his piercing. “The shock on his face when he sees you, naked in the moonlight, getting your wet pussy fucked with the kind of champagne bottle his loser-ass could never afford.” He repeated the same treatment on the other nipple. “Then he freezes when he realizes it’s his ex-girlfriend making all that noise as she gets done by a real man. Franco hears your loud moans and feels shocked, embarrassed, and angry. You were always the best thing he ever had and now? He probably cries himself to sleep every goddamn night, knowing he lost a fucking ten while I get to have you for keeps.”

I panted louder. Spread my legs wider. Canted my hips to chase every thrust.

“We’d give him the show of his life, baby. He’d never be able to fuck himself again without remembering how stunning you look creaming over a bottle that’s no doubt twice the size of his puny dick.”

I gasped and writhed.

Hunter chuckled lazily, blowing on my nipples. “And right as you’re about to orgasm, like a coward, he runs away with his tail between his legs, knowing he could never treat you like me.” Hunter bit my neck. Right over my pulse. A claiming mark. “I’m sure Franco never dropped a single penny on you. Unlike me. I’m stacked up and I’ll spend it all on you as long as it keeps you satiated, doll.”

The. Mouth. On. This. Man.

He was nasty, feeding me images of my useless ex-boyfriend finding us like a cuckolded bitch, and I loved it.

God, my body on fire. “Hunterhunterhunter.”

He stared down at me almost angrily, an undertone of his hunger. “Fuck.” The same fingers that had been rubbing my clit skated over my lips. “What I wouldn’t give to feel your mouth wrapped around my dick again.”

Despite the cobwebs of desire clouding my mind, I managed to plead, “D-do it.” I sucked his fingers into my mouth. “Fill me here too, Hunter.”

His nostrils flared. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Do it while you do me.”

Hunter withdrew the champagne bottle from my drenched pussy and brought it between us. “Taste how delicious you are, Gabriela.”

Grabbing the bottle with a shaky hand, I licked it as he directed, keeping my eyes on him as he shed his pants and briefs. They joined my discarded dress and his shirt.

Stripped down to full nakedness, I was hypnotized by the picture he created—all muscles and smooth tan skin inked like a work of art. The snake tattoos on his left arm and right thigh seemed to come alive as he shifted towards me, the silver nipple piercing glinting in the light. Pure strength. Flawless beauty. And completely untouchable.

Hunter looked every bit the incarnation of the wicked sex god I claimed him to be, ascended from dark lands and roaming the mortal realm in search of his lover.

Me.

Despite his name, there was nothing saintly about this man.

Underneath his formal attire and football uniform was a heathen who loved seeing me undone. He brought out my demon side, the one whose limits of depravity were fictitious, and played with it like he was a master puppeteer holding the very strings of my being.

I never wanted to escape his clutches.

Be it hell or heaven, I wanted to be next to Hunter Saint Warren.

“Good girl,” he praised when he saw I polished the bottle and manoeuvred my body around till I lay sideways, placing me flat and center on the surface of the sturdy wooden desk. “Now lay your head back and relax. I’m going to enter you gently and if it gets too much, tap my thigh twice, all right?”

I could only muster a nod, excitement momentarily robbing me of breath.

Hunter balled up his discarded dress shirt and positioned it under my head so I was comfortable. Then I watched him climb onto the desk with the sleekness of a predator, that strong body of his half shadowed and half illuminated in the moonlight.

As he grabbed the backs of my knees and brought them to my chest, folding my body in half and leaving my pussy open for him, my vision was blessed with the sight of his thick cock dangling above me.

And his ass…