Chapter 26 #3
Hunter stops, chuckles, and pulls me down onto the floor. He lies down and encourages me to straddle him. “Come on, Firecracker.”
I blush. “You want me to be on top? Don’t guys have trouble staying hard like that?”
“What?” He looks genuinely puzzled. Then he fists his hard cock. “Does this answer your question, sweetheart?”
God. Patrick hated me being the one in control. He could only come when he was on top and I was silent. I guess it’s time to unlearn some lessons he taught me.
I climb onto Hunter’s lap, straddling him, and meet the tip of his fat cock as I sink down on it. I can feel his piercing touching the wall of my pussy as he thrusts upward gently. Oh. Oh, wow.
“Talk to me, Juliet. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking about what your piercing is going to do to me.” Biting my lip, I squirm. “I can feel it when I…”
I rock forward and back, my eyes rolling up in my head a little as I do.
“I love watching you enjoy my body, Monroe. You feel it on your g-spot?”
I nod, already on fire.
Hunter's chuckle does wicked things to me. His hands shape my tits, plucking at my nipples. A surge of heat runs through me, and I moan, rocking my hips in a slow rhythm.
My secret is that I love having my nipples touched. I could come from that alone, I think. But I refuse to let men ogle my tits because I won’t be a blow-up doll for anyone.
Grabbing Hunter’s hands, I slide them down to bracket my hips again. If he notices my discomfort, he says nothing. He just slips one hand between us to play with my hypersensitive clit.
“Not stopping till you come again,” he growls. He thrusts up, meeting my movements, encouraging me to speed up. “You can take it, Monroe. Take it for me.”
And I do. I meet his thrusts, greedy for it, hungry to be filled again and again. “It feels so good, Hux.”
“What does?” he grunts. “Be explicit for me, baby.”
I’m too focused in the moment to be ashamed of my answer. “Your… your cock. I love the feeling of riding you.”
He slaps my ass, grinning.
“You’re such a good girl. My good fucking girl. Taking every inch like you were made for it.” Praise mixed with filth, all of it laser-calibrated to set me on fire.
Nobody has ever said these things to me before. I can’t explain why it feels so good. Like every time he praises me, I get a little less hollow, a little more real.
He circles my clit with his thumb, pressing hard. When my inner muscles tremble, he senses it, slamming harder. “You gonna come for me, Monroe?”
I’m already there. I come again, mouth open in a silent scream, my body shaking so hard I nearly lose my grip on the sheets.
He finishes with a grunt, spilling into the condom and pulling me down beside him, all heat and sweat and ragged breathing. We’re a mess, tangled in broken furniture and each other’s limbs, neither one of us willing to move for a long minute.
He eventually props himself on his elbows, looking down at me with a crooked, exhausted smile. “You okay?”
I nod, unable to speak.
He kisses my cheek, then slides out and yanks off the condom, tossing it toward the trash. He flops back onto the floor, pulls me on top of him, and just holds me there, my head on his chest, his heartbeat pounding like a drum line.
I feel drunk. Boneless. Every nerve in my body is singing. I can’t stop fucking smiling.
Eventually he stirs, but it’s only to go down on me again, this time with even more focus.
His tongue is relentless, his fingers steady and firm, finding a spot inside me that makes my entire body clench.
He doesn’t stop, even when I beg him to, even when I’m shaking and oversensitive and on the verge of tears.
“Safe word?” he mutters into my flesh.
I open my mouth, knowing that I won’t say it. Shaking my head vehemently, I let out an incomprehensible string of vowels.
He keeps going until I shatter, a bolt of hot pleasure tearing through me. My body gives a hard, involuntary spasm. I feel a rush of wetness soaking his face and the ruined mattress beneath us.
My entire body heats. “What– what was–?”
Hunter puts his mouth on my pussy and makes a horrifying slurping noise, burying his face against my skin until I squirm. He groans again when he lets me go. “Fuck, Monroe. Do you usually squirt?”
“No!” I reach for the blanket, needing some sort of cover. “Oh my god, Hunter. I’m so humiliated!”
“Really? You shouldn’t be.” He grabs my thighs and licks my slit again. “I’ve never been so hard in my fucking life.”
“You’re insane!” I gasp, trying to get away. “It’s… gross!”
“Nah. Watch how much I love it.” He groans in satisfaction, licks me clean, then kisses me hard, letting me taste myself on his lips. I shiver.
“I can’t believe you like that.” I cover my face, mortified. “And I think I broke your bed. I’m the worst fake fiancée ever.”
He laughs, low and proud. “This is the best fucking morning of my life. Cookies and Juliet fucking Monroe came so hard she squirted on my damn face? Hashtag blessed.”
“You’re awful.” I wrinkle my nose, pushing at his chest.
“You like it,” Hunter says easily. “I’m pretty sure that I’m close to getting you hooked.”
I should feel embarrassed, or at least cautious. But all I feel is high. I bury my face against his neck and drag in his burnt vanilla and tobacco leaf scent.
No one has had me like this. Not Patrick, not anyone. I have never even let myself have me like this.
Maybe Hunter will tire of me eventually, like everyone else. Probably. But right now, I am alive. Right now, I am wanted.
Right now, I feel like I am enough.