Title: The Hunter
Warnings/Squicks: Hyena Xander.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the smut. None of the characters used herein belong to me. But I wish they did!
Feedback: Yes, Please!
Archiving: Just let me know where
Un-beta'd ficlet, AU set sometime after season four.
Summery: 'He loves the hunt. The stalking, chasing, capturing, wickedness of it all. He craves it. Tonight, finally, tonight he will prove that he is a worthy hunter. He will claim what has always been his to take!' The Hunter
He’s waited long enough now. Watching his chosen prey, stalking, observing. Wanting.
He’s followed him home tonight. Watched him as he said goodnight to the girls after patrol. The stalked behind him as he made his way home. Waiting silently, for the moment when he would make his move.
He has dressed for the hunt tonight. Heavy black boots, well broken in and each step as silent as the graves around them. Black jeans, worn to conceal, fit perfectly, to both background and body. A silk t-shirt, expensive and worth every cent, in a red so dark as to be almost black. It clings to every curve, stretched taught over well defined pecks and hard earned biceps.
His prey is nearly at the door now, pausing only to watch a solitary cloud move past the bright stars above.
The predator watches from behind a large tree, well hidden from view. The nature of the beast within, already, automatically keeps him upwind of his prey.
A sudden noise draws the preys eyes just past his hiding place for a moment as they search out the cause. Teenagers meandering along the sidewalk about fifty yards away, making enough noise to echo in the otherwise still and silent, city they inhabit.
His prey listens, following their noise, distracted enough now that he doesn’t notice the sleek, animal movements of his stalker as he moves in closer.
With a grace and stealth, few could dare to imagine the hunter flows from one hiding place to the next, cautiously creeping closer. He’s nearly there now, a few more steps will have him in the path of his prey.
He loves the hunt. The stalking, chasing, capturing, wickedness of it all. He craves it. Tonight, finally, tonight he will prove that he is a worthy hunter. He will claim what has always been his to take!
His prey finally moves to open the door, turning his back to his hunter. While his careless mistake keeps him distracted once more, the stalker moves in for the kill.
He is on his prey in an instant. Pushing him face first into the still closed door. He struggles fiercely, but then who wouldn’t.
The hunter slams the full weight of his body into the writhing figure pinned under him. Pushing his nose into the prey’s neck and inhaling deeply, before laving the area with a wet, exploring tongue.
The prey stills immediately when the hunter gives a low growl into his ear. Testing the flesh of the preys neck with blunt teeth, biting hard enough to elicit a soft whimper, but not blood, not yet.
The enticing smell and feel of his chosen, hardens him almost painfully. He thrusts his heavy, denim encased erection into the firm perfect ass in front of him. The light growling pant from his prey only urges him on further.
The want, take, have of the moment is too much to be ignored. Pinning is victim with a strong arm to his back, he used his other to reach for the fly of the prey’s jeans. Yanking and pulling until he has freed the weeping cock hidden within.
The hunter runs his fingers over the head of the cock now in his grasp, the feel like damp satin, runs smoothly under his palm. He pulls his hand back to himself and loudly enjoys the taste of the pre-come moistening his fingertips. The flavor, like no other, quickly sends him into a wild frenzy.
Moving at speed he used both hands to grab onto the hips in front of him. He roughly pushes, pulls and manipulates, his quietly begging prey, until the man is leaning forward into the door, with his bare ass raised and exposed for his captors pleasure.
Rudely, forcefully the hunter pushes the pants down around the prey’s ankles, effectively hobbling him, should he choose to run.
Now fully exposed, he can palm, grope and admire the perfect cheeks of that exquisite ass. He touches his fill, then moves to squat behind his prey, to snuffle and lick as though enjoying a ripe summer peach. He spreads the tender flesh with eager hands, leaving bruises in his wake, burying his face between the supple cheeks, enraptured by every quiver of the body under his control.
His tongue presses long wet stripes, from balls to lower back, before violently probing the clenched pucker. His goal now within reach, he moves quickly to unfasten his own pants, and lets loose a warning growl when his prey twitches too much at their momentary separation.
Once freed his dripping cock pulses and throbs in expectation. He quickly resumes and continues the probing and loosening of the perfect pink rosette, working his tongue in deep, and then deeper as he moves a hand over his own now, nearly painful erection.
He coats two fingers in his own pre-come and hastily stands and pushes them into the now wet and grasping passage. Unwilling to wait any longer he removes his fingers after only a cursory stretching. Then gathers the pre-come from both himself and his prey to coat his waiting shaft.
He lines up the head of his cock with the winking hole of his prey and slams home in one powerful thrust with an animalistic howl into the night around them. He slowly pulls out, giving no time for his prey adjust to the feel, before harshly pushing in again, and then again.
He could feel his release approaching, and wanted nothing more than to have the incredibly tight channel he was thrusting into, milk him dry of his orgasm. Reaching around his prey he begins to furiously strip his cock, perfectly timed to every jarring, pounding, thrust into his prey’s body.
The whimpering from his prey, changed to a keening wail now. Voice going hoarse as the hunter shifts to hit that wonderful bundle of nerves deep inside and nears his completion.
The body he his gripping with a bruising force, suddenly stiffens under him as the prey begins to climax. As the first jet of come pulses over the hunters fist, he leans forward and clamps down on the his prey’s neck, the beast inside him reveling in the heady taste of blood. He drinks deeply as his entire body now reacts to the incredible clenching grip the prey’s inner walls have on his cock, strongly pulling his release from him.
Once spent he licks over the over the jagged wound from the bite, enjoying the tremble the move produces from his still captured mate.
They are both still as they attempt to catch somewhat elusive breaths.
Sated the hunter pulls back, his cock slipping free accompanied by soft, wet sounds. He watches, nearly mesmerized as his come begins to trickle from between perfect cheeks and down still shaking thighs. His hand darts forward seemingly of it accord to gather his spend on his fingers.
Using his free hand he pushes and manipulates his prey, until they are face to face. He slowly raises his hand between them and brings it to his own mouth, enjoying the taste of himself, flavored by the body of his prey. He then slowly brings his hand to the prey’s mouth and watches as every move is followed by considering eyes.
Two hands snap forward suddenly, griping onto his offered one. Once captured it is brought to the mouth of his prey and eagerly laved, sucked and cleaned from wrist to fingertips. No area left untouched by that wicked, talented mouth.
Freeing his hand after some minutes, he begins to right his clothes and button up his fly, waiting as his prey does the same. He leans forward then nuzzling into neck and hair, slowly moving to bring mouths into contact and capturing lips and tongue in a passionate kiss.
Xander, pulls back, and looks deep into Spike’s, wide hungry eyes, and finally speaks.
“Tag! You’re it!” he yells loudly, before running full tilt for his own home.
Spike gives a sly smile to the sky above, watching as it starts to lighten with the coming dawn. Knowing he will have to wait, for his turn to be the hunter. And Xander, will be the prey.
“Boy’s getting cocky, might just have to show him who the real predator is round here,” he says, with a wicked glint in his eye. The anticipation is a turn on.
- Music:Six Underground-The Sneaker Pimps