Hunted for Halloween

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

CHRISTIAN

I t's been a week since I made her come apart on her couch and I’m sitting with her father.

“I still can't believe you are actually here…” Jonathan's voice drones on and lurks somewhere at the back of my mind, struggling to be heard.

My attention is excessively fixated on the screen of my phone, my eyes greedily taking in the Instagram page splayed on it. I don't even use Instagram often, but apparently, my obsession with a certain small-framed, blonde-haired woman is beyond taming.

Wavy platinum blonde hair that I fisted in my grip that night in the corn maze. Lucid, seductive green eyes that are so fucking expressive. Those rosy plump pink lips that sucked on my fingers and parted every time my fingers struck the right spot inside her. Fair skin that I want to bruise and mark so thoroughly, ruining her for other men. And her body, it looks like it's made for fucking, made for me.

Aurora is a fucking vision. My Pumpkin makes my obsession burn harshly.

“Christian?” Jonathan's voice brings me back to reality.

I reluctantly tear my gaze off her full cleavage that's displayed on my screen. For a second, a red haze clouds my vision, seizing control of me, not just because of his interruption, but also because some fucker might be lurking on her page the same way I am, stalking her obsessively and getting dark, sensual thoughts about her.

Fuck.

“Yes?” I slowly look up, a detached smile lingering on my lips.

“Have you been listening to me?” his blue eyes lock on me through his medicated anti-glare glasses. He looks confused, but also a tad bit amused.

“You were saying something along the lines of not believing that I'm truly back in the company in the flesh.” I return dryly, letting my gaze travel around my spacious office as I spin around in my swivel chair.

“What's got you so hooked on your phone? You have not dropped it for a second.” He narrows his eyes on me, grinning.

I can't exactly tell him that I have been eye fucking every one of his daughter's one thousand four hundred pictures—yes, I counted on my fifth look at the page—on her page. So, I chuckle, the sound a little dismissive.

“It's just work.” I assure him.

I want to feel guilty for not only fingering and eating his daughter out, but also nursing the thoughts of fucking her in different positions and on numerous surfaces. But, I can't. It's hard to. Everything about me has been controlled, calculated and unapologetic. I don't feel guilt or regret. When I see something I want, I get it. I don't care what it costs me.

But it doesn't change the fact that Jonathan is my best friend, one of the most important people in my life.

“What do you think about getting drinks tonight? I feel like every moment that lingers just leaves more things to catch up on.” I offer, directing his thoughts elsewhere.

“I’d love that.” Jonathan grins.

“Fucker,” I roll my eyes. My phone chimes softly in my hands, instantly grabbing my attention.

I get a text. She's at a boutique. I have forwarded the address to your chauffeur, boss.

5:00pm.

“I'll hold you to those drink tonight,” I rise to my feet, suppressing a grin. Jonathan looks confused, as though he wants to ask me where I'm heading to. “I want to go see a client. It's very important and I can't take a raincheck.”

“Fine, drinks at Luxe tonight.” He hollers after me as I stride out of the office like a man on a mission.

I meant it when I said that I can't stay away from Pumpkin, the same way she can't run away from me. Heck, she can run but she can't hide. If I have to claw her out of whatever hole she has crawled into, I will.

Ever since that night at the maze, I have been plagued with intense withdrawal symptoms. It's like I'm suffering from an addiction she has struck me with and I fucking need her to survive. I didn't think I could ever see her again and that had taken a dark toll on me in a way I didn't see coming, until I encountered her again, as Jonathan's daughter.

I knew there was no way in the world I was going to let her slip through my fingers again. My best friend's daughter or not.

The car rolls to a stop and I look up from my screen. My lips tilt in a victorious smirk that quickly dissipates when I lock eyes with my chauffeur. A stony glare mounts on my face and that causes him to look away.

Lance, my trusted bodyguard steps out of the car before me to pull the door open for me.

When I step out of the car, rising to his view, I tell him, “I want everyone shopping gone except her. Do not lay your fucking hands on her. Do not get in proximity of her or breathe in the same air as her. Just get your job done and get out. Do you understand?”

“Yes, boss.” He answers stiffly, marching into the boutique.

In no time, I spot the customers marching out of the boutique with irritated looks on their face and I take that as my cue to step in.

The receptionist flashes me a warm, receptive smile, but the mane of blonde hair at a distance catches my attention. I'd recognize those blonde tresses anywhere. The door to the dressing room opens and closes, causing me to stride swiftly in that direction.

My breath catches in my fucking lungs when I stop short by the door, taking in the sight of her from behind. Her blonde hair, styled in waves, stops right on her ass. The skinny jeans she's wearing cup her ass cheeks perfectly, the dips and contours overly pronounced. Her green silk thin-strapped blouse is tucked into her jeans, complimenting the richness of her fair skin like it's specifically made for her.

Aurora blooms like a flower in spring. The light and innocent that cocoons her aura calls out to me like a beacon. It's so damn hard to resist. I couldn’t stay away from her even if I tried.

As though she can sense that she's being watched as she runs her fingers over the dress in her hands, she looks up sharply, those green eyes widening when they land on my reflection in the mirror.

She gasps and whirls around.

“How are you even here right now? Are you following me?!” she scrambles for something to say, the material of the dress in her hands held flush against her frame.

But it doesn't hide her from my view. Nothing can. Not even her.

Her eyes, a reminder of the vibrant green color of the forest during spring, flash with a mix of fury and irritation that doesn't in any way make me flinch.

Fury and irritation are emotions, and emotions are subject to change. We both know they are a camouflage of her true feelings.

“I thought I made it clear that you can't hide from me, Pumpkin.” I unfold my arms, pushing my frame off the doorway and sauntering into the room like there's nothing capable of stopping me from getting to her.

It’s the truth, after all. Nothing will stop me from getting what’s mine.

Her face flushes a dark shade of red at the nickname, her full, glossed lips parting in an attempt to say something.

“Get out or I'll scream.” She moves backwards.

“No, you won't.” A dry tone accompanies my words, almost bored.

“I told you to stay away from me!” she snaps, her breathing slowly picking up a harsh pace. “Aren't you scared of my Dad finding out what happened between us? What part of it was a fling don't you get? It can't happen again!” she enunciates every word, sounding irritated.

I try to contain my fury, but I can't. With this woman, control and restraint are myths, she makes it so hard not to lose my shit. Rage sweeps through me in strong, harsh, tidal waves.

She stares at me with so much regret and anger, like she's trying to fucking erase me.

If it were easy to erase her, I'd have done it the night we met or the night I found out that she's Jonathan's daughter. Yet the more I try, the more it feels like a part of me is being stripped away. In all the five decades I have been alive, I have never met a woman who's capable of tearing at my controlled facade until her.

“You are my Dad's best friend. You are older than me, is that so fucking hard for you to understand?” she squints her eyes at me in disbelief, her thick dark lashes fluttering with every breath she takes.

A tense silence envelops the dressing room, thick, sharp and cutting.

“Is that so, Pumpkin?” my voice comes out dangerously calm with a dark edge to it as I prowl towards her with the intent to devour.

Her eyes widen, her lips parting slightly, begging to be filled with something. I want to keep the look on her face in the back of my mind for when her back hits the dresser, and it dawns on her that there's nowhere to hide.

Her scent, a heady rush of jasmine, teases my nostrils when I close in on her. I don't hesitate to sweep her off her feet, placing her on the dresser. Her soft, small frame held flush against the hard ridges of my chest. She feels so soft and fragile, like she's going to break if I hold onto her any harder than I currently am.

A shaky breath escapes her when I look down at her. The delicate edges of her flawless face draw me in like a siren. Her face is coated in very light makeup that'd be easy to miss if I wasn’t staring at her up close. It's a stark contrast to how bold and sensual her makeup looked that Halloween night.

My palms, rough and greedy, crawl up her legs and push her thighs open so that I can fit myself between them.

“Maybe you didn't know who I was that night when I made you come, but the knowledge of who I am didn't stop you from spreading your legs and coming all over my face when I ate you out two days ago.” I let my palm travel up her body, marking her everywhere it touches until my fingers hover right above her protruding nipples that are poking through the fabric of her blouse.

Fuck, if she isn’t needy, squirming, wet, and ready for me. The urge to clasp my mouth around her nipples and have her soft moans echo through the room like a twisted lullaby burns a path through my guts.

“S-stop…” she breathes heavily, attempting to look away from me but I grab her delicate chin.

“You want me, Pumpkin. You want me so badly that you hate yourself for it.” I force the words out, trailing my fingers over her plump lips.

She moans, tears rapidly filling her eyes.

“I bet you are wet already,” I whisper, unable to resist pushing two fingers into her mouth. Her eyes flame with a lust so powerful and potent that it makes blood rush to my cock, making it strain hard against my pants.

My fingers dig into her hips as she gazes at me from beneath her dark lashes, her expression so fucking sexy and arousing. Her body turns pliant against me, so submissive, like it instantly recognizes who it belongs to. She sucks on my fingers like a good little girl. It gets me so hard and all that clouds my mind is ripping her clothes off her body and bending her over this dresser.

Her eyes shimmer even brighter when I push my fingers into her mouth further, triggering her gag reflex.

“You dirty girl,” I groan, slowly retracting my fingers from her mouth as she releases them with a popping sound that echoes through the room.

I rest my forehead against hers, an uneven and unhinged breath rolling out of me.

“I'm going to fuck you in here with my fingers and you are going to watch and take it like daddy's good little girl.” I make my intentions clear, my voice cocooning the dressing room like smoke, laced with dark promises.

She sucks in a sharp intake of air. The sound is soft and innocent just like her. It makes me want to ruin and corrupt her in every way there is.

“You will to moan for daddy, won't you?” I trail my fingers down her cheek, feeling the desires lurking beneath her skin rush to the surface.

“Yes, daddy.”

Her lips part and she arches into me, fisting my shirt when I wrap my fingers around her delicate throat.

Perfection. That's what she is.

She looks like she was fucking made for me.

Taking my eyes off her face for a second and doing a sweeping glance of the dressing room, I haul the nearest stool to where I stand, tossing it in front of the dresser.

Aurora’s eyes flit to mine, flashing with hunger and anticipation. The side of my lip lifts in a twisted smirk as I yank her hip onto the stool, eliciting a gasp from her. She's now sitting with her front to the mirror, my imposing frame dwarfing her from behind.

A teasing shade of red explodes on her cheeks and neck as I unbutton her jeans, shrugging them off until she's left in nothing but her black lace thong and silk blouse.

“Legs on the edge of the dresser, Pumpkin.”

She looks reluctant, but the lust in her eyes that currently mirrors the one humming in her body makes her oblige. Her eyes gleam with shame, like she hates and is embarrassed by the way her body responds to my touch. It fuels me with rage so raw that it tightens my muscles.

My breath quickens, my cock swelling to a point of painful aching in my pants when she leans into me with her back pressed to my front—an action that unconsciously shows how much she trusts me.

Her nipples harden into stiff peaks as her chest heaves up and down harshly.

One of my hands splays on her upper body, unapologetically kneading her breasts before coming up to secure her neck in a sensual, choking grip. My little pumpkin whimpers for me, her body flailing helplessly as I stroke her roaring pulse.

“Mine,” I bite her earlobe. My veiny fingers come down on her pussy, smacking her through her soaked lace underwear. She shrieks, wiggling. “Legs on the dresser and spread them wide. If you take them off, I'll stop.”

“Please,” her eyes glisten with tears that depict her frustration, “don't stop…”

Our eyes connect in the mirror as I stroke her through her underwear. She tilts her head back and moans.

“Where do you want my hands?” I stroke her neck, breathing in her scent.

“There…” she whines like a brat.

“Here?” I pinch her clit. She's messing up her underwear, ruining it and dripping all over my fingers. I slide it to the side, parting her folds. They are wet, slick and making sloppy sounds as I tease her.

She tosses her head backwards, moaning softly as her eyes flutter shut.

I choke her harder. “Look at us. Look at me taking you without remorse, and how you are dripping for me. Open your eyes and see it.”

I thrust a digit into her. She buries her back into my chest like she wants to cower from the intensity of my strokes as I play with her clit and fuck her with a finger. She looks so fucking needy and delirious taking my digit like that. Her eyes are so thick with fury and shame that it makes me work her harder.

“You hate it, huh?”

“Argh…” Her moans break when I add one more digit.

“You hate being my whore like this and taking my fingers?” I murmur thickly, my cock aching to be in the place of my fingers inside her sweet little cunt.

“Oh, God.” Her toes curl on the dresser. She jerks against me when I begin to pump in and out of her furiously.

I have never been so enamored by a sight.

Choking her. Thrusting my fingers in and out of her. Her watery eyes fixed on me, flaming with lust and anger.

She looks so beautiful, so brutally claimed and all mine.

“More.” She rides my fingers when I curl them inside her, her wetness smearing the surface of the stool.

“Yes, take all of it, my greedy little whore. Ride daddy's fingers just like that.” Her scent. Her essence. All of her. It drives me so fucking crazy.

She clenches around me. “Oh, I'm…I'm so close…”

Her small palm reaches behind her to grab the side of my face. Her fingernails scratch against my stubble like she wants to leave her mark on me.

I don't mind. I don't mind being marked by her. I'm all hers, just like she's mine. Damnit, she has me in a chokehold. I'll get on my knees for her if she asks me to.

“You want to come for daddy, don't you?” I slap her pussy and she moans.

“Yes,”

“Come for daddy, Pumpkin.”

She looks so fucking beautiful with her smeared makeup and teary eyes as she rides my fingers, chasing her orgasm. Her loud sob echoes through the room as her walls cling to me and she comes all over my fingers. Her cum coats my fingers and she whimpers when I gather it up and fuck her with them.

As my eyes are locked on her shimmering ones, I suck her off my fingers. Her cheeks scorch with heat.

This sight—her looking like a hot mess, parted lips, glistening seductive eyes, and strands of her blonde hair sticking to her sweaty skin—is now engraved in my memory and nothing can ever sear it off.

I slowly turn her frame around, her breathing heavy as I push my way through her thighs.

“What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?” she whimpers.

My arm snakes around her, tugging her into me. Her head turning scent fills my nostrils until she's the only thing I can see, smell, hear, and taste. She engulfs me so deeply, it deepens my obsession for her. I dip my head downwards, my lips brushing against hers. She arches into me like she needs me and it almost extracts a smile from me.

“Nothing,” I simply tell her the truth, my heated breath bathing her skin. “You should have run when you had the chance that night. I'm never letting you go, Pumpkin.”