Almost: A Delete Scene

Author’s Note

This was the deleted scene, and I tried hard to put it in the final cut of HUNTED. Sadly, it was too chunky to put in, so here is a treat for my amazing readers. This was supposed to occur around the middle of chapter seven.

As a reminder, please do not use any of the kinks shown in this book as a teaching guide. I am NOT a sex expert or teacher; please do research with professionals.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO ANY UPLOADING ON OTHER PLATFORMS OR AI WEBSITES. AI IS NOT REAL ART

Wendell Black

“I wanna keep playing with you,” I said, close to his ear. “Can I?”

“Yes, please,” Ernest begged.

“Good. Let’s get you up.” I helped him to his feet. “Put your hands against the wall for me,” I ordered.

I yanked him carefully by his hip to turn him against the wall, his hands pressed against it. I bent him over slightly to have his delicious ass to poke out a bit.

“Move if you fucking want to,” I warned with a spank.

I went to the table to pull out the black glass tea post decorated with gold swirls along it and a bundle of rope.

Ernest knows when to stop, so I have to trust him to do this. I remind myself. I went to Ernest, placing the bell rope in his mouth, moving his head back, and facing forward. He shook his head, making it ring.

“If you need to stop, let the bell go,” I said.

He nodded a soft ring of his agreement.

I went to the kitchen table and set up the teapot and candle. I added two cubes, not wanting to use too much, and set the pot over the candle. As the wax warmed, I debated how I wanted to tie him. Nothing too complicated. Just at his muscular calves. Fuck, it took my strength not to ditch the rope altogether and spend my time leaving my teeth marks against his skin. With my free hand, I raked my hand up the back of his neck to his locs, pulling his head back to look at me. His low moan excited me. I draped the rope over my shoulder to take the bell from his mouth.

“Imma move your hands to tie them to your hips. Is that okay?”

“Getting soft on me.” he teased.

I spanked him as I shared his chuckle.

“Can I tie your hand, please,” I repeated.

“Yes,” he answered.

I kissed his shoulder before placing his hands at his sides. Once, the rope was anchored around his upper thigh and wrist.

“Flex your hands for me,” I ordered as he flexed and wiggled his fingers. “Not too tight?” I asked.

“Perfect.”

“Good.”

I placed the bell back in his mouth. I checked on the wax-filled teapot. Was the consistency what I wanted? Perfect. I took the teapot over to Ernest and yanked his arm to pin him to the wall. His eyes were eager for my next move.

“I won't use it all. This is gonna be hot, but I’ll go slow. Imma need you to be still. I don't wanna have an accident.”

I pushed my knee gently against his ring-decorated cock. He nodded, and a mingle of a moan and whimper left his throat. Imma be addicted to his noise by the time the night was over.  

“If it's too much, drop the bell, understood,” I waited for his nod before I tilted the pot.

A loud, teeth-clenched groan filled the space as the warmed black wax dripped on his brown skin. Trails of black wax oozed down his shoulder, down his chest hair. The bell jingled with each muffled groan head shake. His feet danced, and he even made the mistake of leaning away. That got him three hard slaps to his nipple.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” I ordered with each slap.

His pleads were muffled through his teeth-clenched mouth as he frantically nodded. I continued the slow pour to his other shoulder; his wet, wincing breath grew as the wax trailed over his sore nipple. A tear dripped down his eye when I stopped. My hand teased the swollen tip of his dick. I leaned the pot back, watching as he relaxed with a shaky nasal breath against the wall. I went to set the pot in the kitchen hand before I returned to him, taking the bell from his mouth.

His gorgeous, sweat-mistered face was twisted in a mixture of pleasure-filled pain as I kissed his spit-glistened lips. I moaned in his mouth as I cupped the side of his neck. His tongue teased my bottom lip, drawing me closer. When I pulled away to breathe, Ernest let out a shaky breath.

“Breathe,” I ordered, watching him take a deep breath.

The words were to remind me to breathe, too. Fuck he was addicting. It was too damn easy to fall into a sex haze reality with him. His sex-drunk chuckle wasn't helping me. It was a deep rumble that pulled me deeper into him.

“Your fucking evil,” he moaned in his laughter.

“You're doing so fucking good for me.” I praised.

I didn’t miss how his eyes twinkled at the praise. The wax had cooled on his chest when I massaged the wax into his body. His moans grew as my hand trailed up the column of his neck down to his stomach.

“How much more can you take?” I whispered.

“How much more can you give?” he asked.

Author’s Note

And that’s a wrap, folks! Thank you for reading this fun short; I love Ernest and Wendell.

To Lucille, thank you so much for making this HOT ass cover, and I love you so much.

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It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.

Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.

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It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.

Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.