“Fuck!” I roar, my vision blurring as I empty myself into Theo’s tight heat. Each pulse of my cock feels like it’s beingripped from my soul, intensified by Julian still coming inside me.
“Fuck yes, take my load,” I growl.
Theo moans, his cock jerking as he shoots directly into his own mouth. His throat works visibly as he swallows every drop, his eyes never leaving mine.
We collapse in stages, our breathing ragged, bodies slick with sweat. But we’re not done. Elliot moves first, sliding from behind Julian and dropping to his knees beside us. He pushes Julian aside and buries his face between my ass cheeks, his tongue lapping at Julian’s release as it leaks from me.
“Jesus Christ,” I gasp, still sensitive from everything.
Elliot rises, his mouth full of Julian’s cum. He turns to Julian, who grabs him roughly and pulls him into an open-mouthed kiss. I watch as they pass Julian’s seed between them, Elliot eventually swallowing with a satisfied moan.
Taking their cue, I slide down Theo’s body and spread his cheeks, finding my own release leaking from his hole. I clean him with broad strokes of my tongue, gathering my own essence.
When I’ve collected enough, I crawl up Theo’s body and crush my mouth against his. Our tongues battle as we share the taste of my release mingled with the remnants of his own.
46
THEO
Sunlight streams through the window, waking me from what feels like the deepest sleep I’ve ever had. My body aches, telling the whole story of the last three days. I stretch, feeling the pleasant burn in muscles I didn’t even know I had.
Beside me, Victor sleeps peacefully, his massive frame sprawled across most of the bed. Even in sleep, he looks powerful—but there’s a vulnerability to him now that wasn’t there before the Hunt began. The past three days broke something open in him, something beautiful and raw.
His phone vibrates on the nightstand, then again, and again. After the fifth consecutive buzz, Victor stirs, reaching blindly for it with a groan.
“What?” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.
I watch his face transform—relaxation giving way to confusion, then shock, then rage. He sits bolt upright, all traces of sleep vanished.
“What do you mean you’re pulling your sponsorship?” Victor’s voice is dangerously quiet. “I don’t understand what you’re?—”
He falls silent, listening. The color drains from his face.
“Pictures? What fucking pictures?”
Victor throws the covers off and stands, naked and vibrating with tension. He fumbles with his phone, pulling up something that makes him freeze. “Fuck. FUCK!”
He turns the screen toward me. My stomach drops. There, in high definition, is Victor—bending me over and entering me from behind in the orgy room, his face clearly visible. The photo is clearly from the Hunt.
His phone rings again. Victor answers, his jaw clenched so tight I can see a muscle jumping.
“Marco, slow down. What are you saying about the fighters?”
Another pause. More color leaches from Victor’s face.
“Jenkins AND Alvarez? Both of them?”
When he hangs up, Victor immediately dials another number, pacing like a caged animal.
“Xavier,” he growls when the call connects. “Who the FUCK leaked images from the Hunt? Your security was supposed to be impenetrable!”
I watch Victor’s face harden as he listens to Xavier’s response.
“One of the hunters? You’re certain?” Victor paces, his free hand clenched into a white-knuckled fist. “That should have been impossible.”
Xavier must be apologizing because Victor’s expression shifts slightly—still furious but with a hint of resignation creeping in.
“No, I understand your security protocols were in place.” Victor’s voice drops lower. “I know who it was.”
