HUNTING DAYA
- Reads 4,794
- Votes 138
- Parts 27
Ongoing2h 52m
Last published Thu, May 21, 2026
He steps closer to me like a predator, ready to have its feast.
My breathing escalates as I take my steps back, until my back hits the desk.
He leans forward, caging me between his arms. His gaze bore into mine. My body shift involuntarily to his body heat.
"Cat got your tongue, smart-ass?" ? he smirks.
His voice a mere whisper. But that doesn't stop me from turning on.
"You're such a dick!" I hiss.
My voice is barely audible to my ears between my thumping heart beat.
He moves his arms, from my waist to my face. He rubs his thumb over my swollen lip. He smirks maliciously. Fucker knows he's turning me on.
Lord I hate him!!
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He strokes himself with his eyes closed, and there he is-laid out in front of him, thighs parted, skin slick with desire. He imagines his hand sliding up that throat, feeling the shiver rise under his palm before tightening just enough to draw a gasp. His mouth would follow-hungry-down that taut chest, licking, biting, until a rough moan spills out. He knows how that body would respond: the way the hips would lift, aching for more, when his tongue moves lower, so much lower, tasting that salty, trembling skin. And those eyes... those 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 eyes drowning in pleasure, staring back at him with that kind of yielding that would drag a growl from his chest. He sinks deeper into it-deeper into the vision-imagining his fingers there, buried to the knuckles, while the other writhes beneath him, lips swollen from begging too long.
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