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“You do.”
“Who else?”
“No one else.”
Odin searched his face, trying to see if bringing that up made Hunter uncomfortable. If he was still having lingering trauma from what Isa did to him, Odin wanted to know and prevent triggering him in the future.
“I’m only thinking about you,” Hunter said softly, as if able to read his mind. He adjusted his grip under his knees, reminding Odin that he’d been stuck in that position for a few minutes already. “Your cock is the only one I want, Snow.”
“That’s good,” he stepped forward and ran the tip of himself up and down Hunter’s crease, bumping against the bottom of his balls before trailing it lower to tap against his hole, “Because it’s the only one you’re going to get from here on out. You’re mine, Huntsman. My Little Whisper. You’ll never run from me.”
“Who said anything about running?” Hunter challenged, obviously impatient. “As I recall, there was talk about ensuring I wouldn’t be able to after you—”
Odin thrust his cock past that tight ring of muscle and plowed into his depths as far as he could go with little to no warning. The fact that he also hadn’t prepped the other man wasn’t lost on him, and Hunter’s mouth popped open in a silent scream.
He threw his head back against the table, body quaking as Odin stilled inside of him, waiting for him to adjust to the sudden intrusion.
“Bastard,” he snarled a moment later once he was able to catch his breath.
“I played with you enough this morning to ensure it wouldn’t hurt too badly,” Odin said.
“How long have you had this planned for?”
“Ever since I watched that security footage and saw you walk out.” Even if Hunter had taken the time to try and convey he’d be back, Odin’s gut reaction had been to find him and rut him on the nearest hard surface.
In their current position with Hunter’s legs practically closed thanks to the band of his pants around his knees, it was a tight fit, and Odin felt all of those inner muscles clenching around him. The second he felt Hunter begin to ease, he pulled out and drove forward again. His movements were aggressive, causing him to come into contact with Hunter’s battered ass with each inward plunge, causing the other man to hiss at the combined sting and burst of pleasure as Odin’s cock stroked against his prostate.
He took him fast and hard, leaning in to wrap his arms around Hunter’s thighs and drag him closer so he practically hung off the edge of the table. The legs shook beneath them, clattering against the stone floor loud enough there was no way it went unheard by those passing by in the hall. Since this room was located on the second level of the club, that meant anyone who did overhear would be a Brumal member.
Odin growled at that thought, sliding his hands down so he could grab onto Hunter’s hips instead, settling his legs over his right shoulder he got a better angle.
Part of him recognized how insane all of this was. How he’d gone from hating the man to wanting to taste and touch and own every part of him. But Odin didn’t care. So long as Hunter Thorn was his, he didn’t give a shit what that said about him or what anyone else thought either. So what if they’d once been enemies? So what if Hunter had shot him that day in the forest?
What mattered, the only thing that did, was that he’d finally gotten to test out that fantasy he’d had as a teen. He’d not only gotten to experience Hunter’s body, but if he was to be believed, he now also had his love.
And damn it all to hell, Odin did believe him. That wasn’t a word someone like his Huntsman would ever throw around lightly.
The smell of blood in the air caught his attention and his hips slowed but didn’t still, eyes snapping up to Hunter’s face.
He’d bitten his bottom lip again, harder this time, so that the well of blood there was larger. A single fat crimson drop threatened to spill down Hunter’s chin at any moment.
Odin reacted without giving himself time to think, pulling out and stripping Hunter’s pants all the way finally. He dropped them to the floor and then spread his legs wide, moving between them.
Hunter didn’t need much prompting when Odin grabbed him by the neck and pulled him up, his mouth already opening for him, tongue licking across Odin’s lips.
That first hit of Whisper blood had Odin moaning, heatwaves traveling through his body, sparking his need to consume the man before him. He wrapped an arm around Hunter’s waist and hauled him up, settling his body down over the length of the table without breaking the kiss.
He rolled his hips a few times, causing their cocks to rub together and Hunter to cry out and claw at his back. With a snarl, he pulled back and rolled Hunter onto his stomach, climbing onto the table and draping himself over him with his thighs caught between his knees. Odin peppered his spine with open-mouth kisses, fingers delving between his clenched cheeks to find and prod at his entrance just before he returned his cock to that place.
They both gasped as he slid in, his thrust slow at first due to the even tighter squeeze their new position provided. Once he’d sunk to his balls he sucked in another breath, adjusting himself with his forearms at either side of Hunter’s head.
“You said you could tap into my power,” he recalled their earlier discussion with the others just then. “Try for me, baby.”
Hunter turned his head, pressing his cheek against the table, and frowned at him. “I could end up lighting us both on fire.”
He chuckled. “I’ve got you. If I feel like it’s too much I’ll pull you back.”
“Can you do that?” he didn’t sound convinced.
