Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

80. Careful

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Unsurprisingly, the concessions stand's menu was mostly made up of carny foods: popcorn, funnel cakes, soft pretzels, you name it. But there was, however, a small selection of food containing ingredients produced by the year's harvest. I scanned the commercial stovetops behind the imp taking orders, my mouth watering at the sight of the large ears of corn sizzling on the grill.

Striker and I got our lunch and found a bench behind the wooden bleachers to sit down and eat. The area where we'd settled was out of the way, most of the crowd either seated in the bleachers or wandering around the concessions stand. I figured the noticeable increase in the subtle prejudice was simply due to the large influx of people gathered in town for the festival, but it was admittedly nice to have a break from all the judgmental looks.

"I knew you were pretty agile," I said, shoveling my last bite in my mouth. "But it was still pretty impressive to watch you in action."

"Now don't be gassin' my ass up, darlin'," Striker remarked and teasingly nudged me with his elbow. "You don't want me bein' even more of an arrogant prick, now do you?"

I rolled my eyes and nudged him back harder, earning an amused snicker from him.

When we finished our food, I stood from my seat, holding out my hand for Striker to give me his trash before walking over to the garbage can near us.

"Really is a shame you couldn't compete this year, darlin'," he said with a smirk. "I would've loved to see how well you could hold your own."

"Maybe next year," I replied, then added playfully, "Who knows? I might could even beat you in a scrap."

He let out a hearty laugh. "I highly doubt it, darlin'."

I stepped in front of him and placed my hands on my hips. "Oh, you don't think I have what it takes?" A mischievous smirk tugged at my lips. "If my memory serves me, I seem to remember being able to bring you to your knees plenty of times."

Striker raised an eyebrow, then pushed himself to his feet and mirrored my expression and body language, all the way down to his hands on his hips. "You tryna tell me somethin' there, sugar cube?"

I crossed my arms, coyly shrugging and looking up at the underside of the bleacher seats above us. "Oh, just a thought I had. I was thinking that perhaps if you win, I might have a little prize of my own waiting for you."

Striker chuckled, a devilish grin crawling across his face. He rested one of his hands on the support beam behind me, leaning forward until his face was only a few inches from mine, and he took my chin in his fingers and lightly pulled down my bottom lip with his thumb.

"Careful, darlin'," he purred, his voice rumbling in his chest.

My face burned at his actions, and I let out a nervous giggle and looked off to the side. "Y-Yeah, you, u-uh — yeah. . ."

"We're the only ones back here," he said. "And I've got about twenty minutes before I gotta get back to the games." He lowered his head and brought his lips to my ear, his hot breath sending chills down my spine. "I'm still hungry, darlin'. And I don't mind gettin' on my knees for seconds."

A flustered squeak escaped my throat, and my body stiffened as Striker unbuttoned my jeans and slipped a hand down the front of my bottoms. I gasped when the pads of his fingers pressed against my womanhood over my panties, stimulating my clit just enough to arouse me — just enough to make me want more.

I closed my legs tightly around his hand and bit my lip, causing Striker to let out a low, smug cackle. He planted a few sloppy kisses on my neck before slowly kneeling down on the ground in front of me, yanking my bottoms down to my knees.

"C'mere," he growled, his hands grabbing my ass and roughly pulling me toward him.

Striker kissed my inner thigh, biting the delicate flesh before bringing his mouth to my womanhood. He ran his long tongue over my slick opening, then teasingly began licking and sucking my clit. A shudder racked my body, and I leaned back on the wooden beam behind me for support.

"Oh, fuck," I mewled with pleasure, weaving my fingers through his alabaster hair.

Striker took one of my hands in his and laid it over my mouth, pulling away long enough to murmur, "Shh, someone'll hear you."

I kept my mouth covered, stifling my moans as he continued to eat me out. My body trembled with arousal above him, and I clamped my free hand around one of his horns. I lifted one of my legs to open myself to him, and he gripped my thigh with one hand and slung it over his shoulder, positioning himself directly underneath me.

Striker's tongue slithered inside me and stroked my sweet spot, his mouth beginning to make light squelching sounds against my wetness. I panted into my hand, my breaths growing heavier with every flick of his forked tongue. I pulled him closer to me with my leg and held his horn in a vise-grip, keeping his mouth firmly planted on my cunt. A pressure was building inside my core, and I couldn't stop a high-pitched whimper from escaping my throat. Striker squeezed my ass harder at the sound of it, his claw-like nails digging into my flesh, and pulled his mouth away from me to fix me with an intense stare.

"Quiet," he ordered in a low, guttural voice that made me weak in the knees. He smirked at my reaction, his golden fang glinting in the sunlight, and started playing with me again.

The two of us both froze when we heard voices coming from the side of the bleachers, and we turned our heads to see two approaching shadows. Before they could turn the corner to see us, Striker stood and swept me up into his arms, quickly hopping behind a pile of hay bales under the bleachers and setting me down among the loose straw. The two voices slowly became more audible, and their footsteps travelled across the back of the bleachers, eventually passing the bales of hay where we hid. Though I still had my hand over my mouth, Striker covered mine with his own and leaned down to whisper in my ear:

"Don't. Make. A sound."

Striker kept his hand over mine as he pushed my legs up and brought his mouth back to my dripping womanhood. He seemed to be playing with me even more fervently than before, and it took every ounce of willpower in me to keep from moaning out his name. I propped my legs on his shoulders and used them to draw him closer to me, pushing his mouth onto my cunt. He snickered quietly and continued to devour me, alternating between stroking my sweet spot and my clit with his long tongue.

The delicious sensation of his mouth licking and sucking at my sensitive flesh and the thrill of almost getting caught in the act drove me to the edge, and I gasped into my palm as a tsunami wave of pleasure consumed me from the bottom up. My legs began to shake, and I folded them around his frame, holding him firmly to my slick cunt while I rode out my high.

"Oh, fuck," I murmured breathlessly, certain that no one but the two of us heard it.

Striker lifted his head and slowly licked his lips, grinning smugly at the sight of my flushed face and quivering frame. He grazed his knuckles along my jawline before taking my chin in his hand, pressing his thumb to my lips.

"That's my girl," he purred. "Now lemme get back out there and win so I can claim my prize."