The Wild Hunt
By BloodRose
“You knew this would end with me finding you, little one.” Risha froze, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass. The city lights stretched before her, but she no longer saw them.
She felt him. Slowly, she turned.
Zyan stood in the doorway—dark, composed, utterly in control. His sharp eyes burned into hers, a slow smirk curving his lips. “You took your time,” she whispered, though her voice betrayed her, soft and breathless. “I wanted to see how far you’d run.” He stepped forward, his presence swallowing the space between them. “But you knew, Risha. You wanted me to chase you.”
Heat pooled low in her belly. She tried to hold his gaze, but when he reached her, fingers tilting her chin up, she exhaled shakily. “You don’t run to escape,” he murmured, gloved thumb tracing her parted lips. “You run because you want to be caught.” A whimper slipped from her lips, and his smirk deepened.
“Good girl.”
Her knees weakened. His other hand slipped beneath the silk of her robe, fingers teasing, possessive. A gasp escaped her as his grip tightened, his body pressing her back against the cool glass doors. “The Hunt is over, Risha.” His breath was hot against her throat. “Now, you’re mine.” His mouth crashed against hers—hot, demanding, devastating. The robe slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. “Did you run because you thought I wouldn’t follow?” he murmured against her skin, his hands exploring, claiming.
She trembled, her fingers gripping his coat. “I ran…” she gasped, breathless, “…because I needed to know if you were worthy of catching me.” His low chuckle sent a thrill down her spine. “Oh, little one.” He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her inside. “You have no idea what you’ve just surrendered yourself to.”
Then, without breaking stride, Zyan reached the bed and dropped her. She bounced on the mattress, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Her naked body was displayed before him, vulnerable and beautiful in the dim light filtering through the windows. Zyan stood at the edge of the bed, his gaze predatory as he slowly removed his gloves, one finger at a time. "Tell me babe, how shall I punish you tonight ?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. “Please," she moaned, her voice barely audible. She shifted on the bed, thighs pressing together to ease the ache building between them.
Zyan noticed. He always noticed everything. "Spread your legs, Risha." He tossed the gloves aside and began unbuttoning his shirt. The command sent a jolt of electricity through her body. She hesitated, just long enough to see his eyes narrow dangerously. "I said," he repeated, slower this time, "spread your legs." She obeyed, her body responding to the authority in his voice before her mind could protest. The cool air kissed her exposed flesh, making her shiver.
His shirt fell open, revealing the hard planes of his chest, marked with intricate tattoos that seemed to shift in the shadows. Risha couldn't help but stare, transfixed by the sight of him slowly unraveling his composed exterior. “Be a good girl and touch yourself,” Zyan commended, unbuckling his belt with unhurried precision. Risha swallowed, heat flooding her cheeks. Her fingers trembled as she slid them down her stomach, past her navel, until they reached her pussy. Zyan watched her intently, his gaze never leaving her face as she began to touch herself with hesitant strokes. "Deeper," he instructed, his voice thick with desire. "Show me how badly you want me."
Risha complied, slipping two fingers inside herself while her thumb circled the sensitive clit above. Her back arched involuntarily as pleasure coursed through her body. The leather of his belt made a soft hissing sound as he pulled it free from the loops. "That's it," he encouraged, folding the belt in half. "Don't stop." Her breathing quickened as she watched him finish undressing. His body was a masterpiece of hard muscle and controlled power. “Yes,” she moaned. "Yes, what?" he repeated, his tone darker now. "Yes, sir," Risha corrected herself, moaning as her fingers found that perfect spot inside her. Zyan's approving smile was predatory. "Good girl. Now show me how close you are." She arched her back, her movements becoming less controlled, more desperate.
The leather belt whispered across her thighs, and Risha whimpered, her breath caught somewhere between fear and aching, dripping need. "Please," she gasped, chest heaving. "Not yet," he said, wrapping the end of the belt around his fist, eyes locked to hers. "You don't come until you've been properly punished for running." His voice was soft. Too soft. That dangerous calm that meant the storm was still building. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "And I'm going to enjoy every second of making you pay."
Her thighs trembled, her pussy soaked and glistening under the dim light. He dropped the belt onto the bed beside her, only to drag her wrists above her head and fasten them with it—tight enough to hold, loose enough to tease. Her arms stretched above her, breasts rising and falling rapidly as he loomed over her. “You ran from me. You made me hunt you down like an animal,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her nipple. “You wanted the monster to come find you and fuck like one.” He pinched, twisted—just enough to make her arch off the mattress with a gasp. Then his mouth followed, hot and greedy, sucking and biting the nipple.
"Zyan," she moaned, thighs pressing together again. He forced them apart with a sharp tug, settling between them with ease." Still trying to hide from me?" he smirked. “Let’s see how far that gets you.” Without warning, his palm cracked across her pussy—wet, hot, loud. Risha cried out, legs jerking apart as the sting shot through her. He slapped her again, slower this time, watching her twitch, helpless and exposed. He dipped his head between her legs, tongue gliding over her pussy folds. Risha cried out, the heat of his mouth pulling a sob from her throat. But just as the tension began to coil, just as she started to climb, he stopped. She whimpered, hips lifting in desperation. "No," he said flatly. "You don't get to come because you want it. You come when I allow it."
Zyan stood, unzipping his pants. His cock sprang free—thick, heavy, already leaking. “Open your mouth,” he ordered. She obeyed instantly, lips parting as he stepped in close, grabbing the back of her head and shoving his cock down her throat. Risha gagged, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth as he fucked her face with brutal control. He pulled back only when her eyes watered. “That’s enough. I want to see that pretty pussy break.”
He flipped her onto her stomach, dragging her hips up, ass in the air, face smashed against the bed. Then he drove into her—one savage thrust, all the way to the hilt. “Who do you belong to?” he snarled against her ear. “You!” she cried, tears slipping from her eyes. “I belong to you—only you!” His rhythm faltered, grew rougher, deeper. Her orgasm barreled toward her like a wave, crashing against her bones.
He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. "Look at you, so eager to cum like a needy little pet. Are you that desperate?" "Yes," she panted. “Yes, sir.” "Then beg for it. Show me how badly you regret running." Her hips rolled harder, grinding down, moans escaping in gasps. “Please let me come. I shouldn’t have run—I needed you, I wanted you to find me.” Zyan’s grip in her hair tightened. “You wanted to test me. And now you’ll see what it means to be caught.” Zyan let go of her hair and she fell back onto the bed.
Risha screamed into the sheets, fingers clawing the fabric, but Zyan didn’t give her a moment to adjust. He fucked her hard, fast, relentless, one hand fisting her hair, the other spanking her until her ass glowed red. “You thought I wouldn’t follow?” he growled into her ear. “You thought I wouldn’t drag you back and make you remember exactly who you belong to?” He slammed into her again and again, her cries raw and wanton, each thrust forcing another obscene sound from her lips.
“You’re mine. Say it.” “I’m yours,” she sobbed. “Fuck—I’m yours, Zyan, please—please—!” “You want to cum?” “Yes, sir—please, I need it—I’ll be good, I swear—” He reached between her legs, rubbing her clit with ruthless precision as he pounded into her, hips snapping against her ass with brutal speed. “Cum for me, little one. Make a mess all over my cock.” She broke—screaming, shaking, soaking him. Her orgasm ripped through her like fire, her pussy clenching so tight it dragged his own climax from him with a grunt. He buried himself to the base, spilling inside her as she trembled under him.
They collapsed in a tangle of sweat, cum, and ragged breath, her body used and limp beneath him. Risha stirred against the silk sheets, her body aching in the most exquisite ways. The scent of him—smoke, leather, and something distinctly Zyan—clung to her skin. A firm arm curled around her waist, pulling her back against his solid warmth. “Don’t even think about running,” he murmured against her ear, his voice still thick with sleep and satisfaction. She smirked, tracing lazy circles on his forearm. “And if I do?” His grip tightened, possessive. “Then I’ll chase you all over again.”
“You knew this would end with me finding you, little one.” Risha froze, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass. The city lights stretched before her, but she no longer saw them.
She felt him. Slowly, she turned.
Zyan stood in the doorway—dark, composed, utterly in control. His sharp eyes burned into hers, a slow smirk curving his lips. “You took your time,” she whispered, though her voice betrayed her, soft and breathless. “I wanted to see how far you’d run.” He stepped forward, his presence swallowing the space between them. “But you knew, Risha. You wanted me to chase you.”
Heat pooled low in her belly. She tried to hold his gaze, but when he reached her, fingers tilting her chin up, she exhaled shakily. “You don’t run to escape,” he murmured, gloved thumb tracing her parted lips. “You run because you want to be caught.” A whimper slipped from her lips, and his smirk deepened.
“Good girl.”
Her knees weakened. His other hand slipped beneath the silk of her robe, fingers teasing, possessive. A gasp escaped her as his grip tightened, his body pressing her back against the cool glass doors. “The Hunt is over, Risha.” His breath was hot against her throat. “Now, you’re mine.” His mouth crashed against hers—hot, demanding, devastating. The robe slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. “Did you run because you thought I wouldn’t follow?” he murmured against her skin, his hands exploring, claiming.
She trembled, her fingers gripping his coat. “I ran…” she gasped, breathless, “…because I needed to know if you were worthy of catching me.” His low chuckle sent a thrill down her spine. “Oh, little one.” He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her inside. “You have no idea what you’ve just surrendered yourself to.”
Then, without breaking stride, Zyan reached the bed and dropped her. She bounced on the mattress, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Her naked body was displayed before him, vulnerable and beautiful in the dim light filtering through the windows. Zyan stood at the edge of the bed, his gaze predatory as he slowly removed his gloves, one finger at a time. "Tell me babe, how shall I punish you tonight ?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. “Please," she moaned, her voice barely audible. She shifted on the bed, thighs pressing together to ease the ache building between them.
Zyan noticed. He always noticed everything. "Spread your legs, Risha." He tossed the gloves aside and began unbuttoning his shirt. The command sent a jolt of electricity through her body. She hesitated, just long enough to see his eyes narrow dangerously. "I said," he repeated, slower this time, "spread your legs." She obeyed, her body responding to the authority in his voice before her mind could protest. The cool air kissed her exposed flesh, making her shiver.
His shirt fell open, revealing the hard planes of his chest, marked with intricate tattoos that seemed to shift in the shadows. Risha couldn't help but stare, transfixed by the sight of him slowly unraveling his composed exterior. “Be a good girl and touch yourself,” Zyan commended, unbuckling his belt with unhurried precision. Risha swallowed, heat flooding her cheeks. Her fingers trembled as she slid them down her stomach, past her navel, until they reached her pussy. Zyan watched her intently, his gaze never leaving her face as she began to touch herself with hesitant strokes. "Deeper," he instructed, his voice thick with desire. "Show me how badly you want me."
Risha complied, slipping two fingers inside herself while her thumb circled the sensitive clit above. Her back arched involuntarily as pleasure coursed through her body. The leather of his belt made a soft hissing sound as he pulled it free from the loops. "That's it," he encouraged, folding the belt in half. "Don't stop." Her breathing quickened as she watched him finish undressing. His body was a masterpiece of hard muscle and controlled power. “Yes,” she moaned. "Yes, what?" he repeated, his tone darker now. "Yes, sir," Risha corrected herself, moaning as her fingers found that perfect spot inside her. Zyan's approving smile was predatory. "Good girl. Now show me how close you are." She arched her back, her movements becoming less controlled, more desperate.
The leather belt whispered across her thighs, and Risha whimpered, her breath caught somewhere between fear and aching, dripping need. "Please," she gasped, chest heaving. "Not yet," he said, wrapping the end of the belt around his fist, eyes locked to hers. "You don't come until you've been properly punished for running." His voice was soft. Too soft. That dangerous calm that meant the storm was still building. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "And I'm going to enjoy every second of making you pay."
Her thighs trembled, her pussy soaked and glistening under the dim light. He dropped the belt onto the bed beside her, only to drag her wrists above her head and fasten them with it—tight enough to hold, loose enough to tease. Her arms stretched above her, breasts rising and falling rapidly as he loomed over her. “You ran from me. You made me hunt you down like an animal,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her nipple. “You wanted the monster to come find you and fuck like one.” He pinched, twisted—just enough to make her arch off the mattress with a gasp. Then his mouth followed, hot and greedy, sucking and biting the nipple.
"Zyan," she moaned, thighs pressing together again. He forced them apart with a sharp tug, settling between them with ease." Still trying to hide from me?" he smirked. “Let’s see how far that gets you.” Without warning, his palm cracked across her pussy—wet, hot, loud. Risha cried out, legs jerking apart as the sting shot through her. He slapped her again, slower this time, watching her twitch, helpless and exposed. He dipped his head between her legs, tongue gliding over her pussy folds. Risha cried out, the heat of his mouth pulling a sob from her throat. But just as the tension began to coil, just as she started to climb, he stopped. She whimpered, hips lifting in desperation. "No," he said flatly. "You don't get to come because you want it. You come when I allow it."
Zyan stood, unzipping his pants. His cock sprang free—thick, heavy, already leaking. “Open your mouth,” he ordered. She obeyed instantly, lips parting as he stepped in close, grabbing the back of her head and shoving his cock down her throat. Risha gagged, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth as he fucked her face with brutal control. He pulled back only when her eyes watered. “That’s enough. I want to see that pretty pussy break.”
He flipped her onto her stomach, dragging her hips up, ass in the air, face smashed against the bed. Then he drove into her—one savage thrust, all the way to the hilt. “Who do you belong to?” he snarled against her ear. “You!” she cried, tears slipping from her eyes. “I belong to you—only you!” His rhythm faltered, grew rougher, deeper. Her orgasm barreled toward her like a wave, crashing against her bones.
He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. "Look at you, so eager to cum like a needy little pet. Are you that desperate?" "Yes," she panted. “Yes, sir.” "Then beg for it. Show me how badly you regret running." Her hips rolled harder, grinding down, moans escaping in gasps. “Please let me come. I shouldn’t have run—I needed you, I wanted you to find me.” Zyan’s grip in her hair tightened. “You wanted to test me. And now you’ll see what it means to be caught.” Zyan let go of her hair and she fell back onto the bed.
Risha screamed into the sheets, fingers clawing the fabric, but Zyan didn’t give her a moment to adjust. He fucked her hard, fast, relentless, one hand fisting her hair, the other spanking her until her ass glowed red. “You thought I wouldn’t follow?” he growled into her ear. “You thought I wouldn’t drag you back and make you remember exactly who you belong to?” He slammed into her again and again, her cries raw and wanton, each thrust forcing another obscene sound from her lips.
“You’re mine. Say it.” “I’m yours,” she sobbed. “Fuck—I’m yours, Zyan, please—please—!” “You want to cum?” “Yes, sir—please, I need it—I’ll be good, I swear—” He reached between her legs, rubbing her clit with ruthless precision as he pounded into her, hips snapping against her ass with brutal speed. “Cum for me, little one. Make a mess all over my cock.” She broke—screaming, shaking, soaking him. Her orgasm ripped through her like fire, her pussy clenching so tight it dragged his own climax from him with a grunt. He buried himself to the base, spilling inside her as she trembled under him.
They collapsed in a tangle of sweat, cum, and ragged breath, her body used and limp beneath him. Risha stirred against the silk sheets, her body aching in the most exquisite ways. The scent of him—smoke, leather, and something distinctly Zyan—clung to her skin. A firm arm curled around her waist, pulling her back against his solid warmth. “Don’t even think about running,” he murmured against her ear, his voice still thick with sleep and satisfaction. She smirked, tracing lazy circles on his forearm. “And if I do?” His grip tightened, possessive. “Then I’ll chase you all over again.”
heheh! 
xxx