Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 603: Planning To Surprise Julie

Hannah didn’t hesitate. She sauntered past me, her hips swaying with the kind of deliberate tease that made my cock twitch. Haruna followed, slower, her steps unsteady, like she was already half-drowned in the promise of what was coming.

The bathroom was all steam and slick tile by the time I joined them. Hannah was already under the spray, water sluicing over her skin, her hands mapping her own body with lazy, possessive strokes.

After taking a shower, we got dressed, with Haruna wearing Hannah’s clothes as her own clothes were drenched in Hannah’s piss.

I decided to take Haurna back to her home as it was getting late. I drove with Haruna, and by the time I dropped Haruna off, the city outside had a jagged skyline of neon and shadow. The drive back to her place was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound between us, thick and charged like the air after a storm.

She kept stealing glances at me, her fingers twitching in her lap like she was fighting the urge to reach over and take what she’d already had a taste of.

We soon reached there, and I walked her to her apartment, the hallway reeking of stale cigarettes and cheaper perfume. The door swung open before we even reached it—Yuko standing there, her posture rigid as a drawn blade, her dark eyes flicking between us like she was already calculating threats.

"Sister Yuko," I drawled, leaning against the doorframe, my body loose, my smile all teeth. "We’re leaving for America tomorrow." I tilted my head, letting my gaze rake over her—the way her fingers flexed at her sides, the way her pulse jumped in her throat. "You and Haruna should also come with us."

Yuko’s jaw tightened, the muscle feathering under her skin like a warning. She nodded, but her eyes flickered away too fast—like my gaze was a blade she couldn’t quite steel herself to meet. That stubborn set of her mouth, the way her lips pressed into a thin, unyielding line, was supposed to radiate strength. But I’d seen that look before. On women who thought they could outlast me. On women who broke under me.

It didn’t make her weak. It just made her interesting.

I lingered a second longer than necessary, letting the silence stretch between us like a taut wire, before pushing off the doorframe with a slow, deliberate shrug. "Tomorrow, then." My voice was a low rumble, the kind that vibrated in the chest and left a mark. "Don’t keep me waiting."

The drive back to Julie’s was a blur of neon and shadow, the city’s pulse thrumming through the car like a second heartbeat. By the time I walked through the door, the house was quiet—too quiet—save for the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen.

Julie was awake.

Of course she was.

She stood at the counter, her back to me, the curve of her spine accentuated by the way she leaned over the sink, scrubbing at a pot with more force than necessary.

The water ran hot—steam curled around her fingers, her knuckles red from the heat. "Don’t look for Haruna," she said, not turning around. "She went out to buy something for our sisters."

I chuckled, low and knowing, as I toed off my boots and let the sound echo through the room. With Hannah’s favorability meter dinging at full capacity.

Now that she’d had a taste of what I could give her, she wanted to play nice with her sisters. Wanted to be the good one. The selfless one.

I looked at Julie, who was working in the kitchen, and thought today might be our last time here in Germany, and I won’t get alone time with Julie once I return to America... so why not make it special for her, and give her a surprise that I’ve always wanted to give?

I moved, my steps were quiet, predatory, as I crossed the kitchen and pressed myself against her back. She stiffened, just for a second, before melting into me—because she knew. Knew what I was. Knew what I could do to her.

My arms slid around her waist, my hands splaying over her stomach, pulling her flush against me. She was warm, so warm, the heat of her seeping through the thin fabric of her shirt, branding me.

"Julie," I murmured, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, my voice rough with the promise of something dark and sweet. "There’s something... I want to show you."

She tensed again, but this time it wasn’t resistance. It was anticipation. "I’m busy," she said, but her voice was already thinning, already betraying her.

The pot clattered against the sink as she abandoned it, her hands coming up to cover mine where they rested against her stomach.

I turned her in my arms, slow and deliberate, giving her just enough time to want it before my mouth crashed into hers. She gasped, her lips parting under mine, and I took advantage—my tongue sweeping in to claim her, deep and possessive.

She tasted like mint and something sweeter—something eternal—and when I finally pulled back, her eyes were soft, her breath coming in trembling gasps, as if I’d stolen it from her lungs.

Julie’s lips were swollen from mine, her skin flushed with the heat of us, and when she swayed toward me, it wasn’t just desire—it was gravity, the unspoken pull that had existed between us since the very beginning.

I pressed my forehead to hers, my thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip, memorizing the way it trembled under my touch. "Come with me," I whispered, my voice rough with something I’d never let myself name before. "Let me show you something."

A breathless laugh trembled from her lips, but her fingers clawed at my chest like she was drowning. "What are you—? We can’t just... keep doing that all the time..." Her voice cracked, half-protest, half-melt.

I knew exactly where her mind had gone. With a smirk, I flicked her forehead—sharp, stinging. She jolted back with a gasp, "Ugh! Hmm—ow! Where the hell are you—?" Her words dissolved into a frustrated whine as I tugged her forward, letting her stumble just enough to press flush against me.

I silenced her with a finger to her lips, my touch gentle, reverent. "Shh." My other hand cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing away the single tear that had escaped. "Close your eyes, love." My voice was a vow. "And trust me."

She searched my face for a long, heartbreaking second—because Julie had spent a lifetime learning not to trust easily, as I would always bully her.

But then, slowly, she nodded. Her lashes fluttered shut, dark and delicate against her skin, and the way she surrendered to me, even just in this small thing, nearly broke me.

I gathered her into my arms, holding her like she was made of starlight, and then we were rising—not walking, not running, but floating using , the wind rushing around us like a benediction.

Julie gasped, her fingers clutching at my shirt, but she didn’t open her eyes. She trusted me. And that trust was the most precious thing anyone had ever given me.