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Trying to drive Sin insane with the tight, unforgiving clasp of his body. Trying to wrestle back the power he’d lost.
Do your worst,the Hunter had taunted.
For a moment, Sin wanted to.
Fury and revenge blazed in his eyes as he forcibly pulled back, almost all the way out, then slammed to the hilt once more, jolting them both.
The Hunter’s cheek twitched, and a muscle in his jaw flickered. That was the only sign of either distress, anger or pain.
But then, he himself shoved his hips away and brought it back down, spearing himself onto Sin’s cock just as forcefully as Sin had driven into him before.
As if to say:That’s all you got?
It both enflamed and incensed Sin that the male refused to capitulate. That he still thought he was Sin’s equal, using his body like a weapon.
A sword stabbing into its sheath. The sheath forcibly choking the sword.
Which was stronger? Who owned who?
Sin couldn’t tell any more as his mind went blank and his instincts took over.
He slammed his hips against the male as he held him down, beginning a brutal, controlled pace of long, deep thrusting.
It was punishment. Stabbing methodically into the male to induce the greatest amount of pain.
Sin felt no pleasure doing so, despite the tight, choking clasp of the Hunter’s body. His cock was a sword made of flesh, and he used it to gut the male.
In and out.
Deeper. Harder. Rougher.
The Hunter had wielded a thorned whip against him. Flayed the hide from his flesh. He hadn’t held back. And after a day of healing, Sin’s newly emerging flesh was still raw and tender. Hurt like a fucker where it was exposed to the elements.
His enemy had skewered him and stabbed him with no remorse. So, he returned the violence in a different way now. He wanted to skewer and stab his tormentor into the ground. Split him right down the middle and tear him in half.
All the while he held the Hunter’s stare, both of them unblinking, their gaze and breath fused, hearts synchronizing.
He didn’t know how long he ruthlessly speared the male’s virgin ass with his undying erection. He could do this for hours.
Days.
He could do this until his enemy bled to death from the inside out, stab so deep he’d puncture the male’s internal organs, make him scream the way those rutting Dark Ones had made his mate scream.
This could be his ultimate revenge, a part of Sin taunted.
He could coalesce all of his hatred, vengeance and pain into the brutal punishment and destruction of this exiled Master Hunter.
Who, while he might not have directly dealt the killing blow to Sin’s mate, and by extension extinguished all feeling and softness within Sin, had had a large role to play nevertheless. A central role.
So what, if he had only acted as the Blood Moon Queen bid?
So what, if he had ultimately turned against her?
He was the Master Hunter who led the armies that killed countless of Sin’s Kind.
For nothing! Not even food or survival.
The animal spirits had been hunted for sport, raped and tortured under Gaia’s rule. Andthismale had been her sharpest weapon. Her deadliest blade.
