Chapter 8 #2
His calloused hands went around her bare waist, lifting her, laying her down.
She was sprawled across the bed, Hunter leaning over her…
and his lips had somehow never left her as they worked together to undress him.
His mouth moved to her jaw, nuzzling her throat, his hands helping her with the buttons.
Well, attempting to help. They were frantic, desperate, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they worked together to strip him of his clothes which hit the floor until he was as bare as she was, still hovering over her.
Helena reached hungrily for him, her hands running over his chest, his arms, his hips, reveling in the feel of his warm skin under her fingertips.
His expert mouth never left her body, kissing, licking, nipping at her sensitive skin.
He lavished attention on her breasts, his hands cupping them, lifting them, his mouth worshipping them.
She couldn’t prevent herself from crying out as he took one aching nipple into his mouth, sucking, teasing, his teeth grazing her sensitive peak.
“Yer tits are perfect, Helena,” her hired husband growled against her skin, his hands squeezing, kneading. “I could worship them all night.”
Hunter’s crude words sent a fresh wave of heat to her core, making her moan and arch into his touch. He moved to her other breast giving it the same devotion, his mouth and hands driving her wild with desire.
“Hunter, please,” she begged, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her body writhing beneath him. Her core throbbed with desire as her heart soared, knowing she’d made the right choice in coming here tonight.
She needed more, needed him, needed it all.
Hunter looked up at her, his eyes dark and hungry, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Please what, lass? Tell me what ye want.”
Helena hesitated, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She’d never done this before, despite him assuming she was both married and experienced, and she wasn’t exactly sure what to ask for. Everything. “I want…you to touch me.”
His hand still squeezed her breast, tugging on her nipple and drawing out her arousal, but he didn’t seem in a hurry. “How do ye want me to touch ye?”
“Hunter—”
“How?” he murmured, twisting her nipple between thumb and forefinger.
Hell’s bells—“Your mouth,” she gasped. “Please.”
His grin turned feral and he began to kiss her again, starting at her breasts and moving lower.
Lower?
Oh.
Of course. Helena well remembered that long-ago illicit book which had fascinated her, remembered what was possible. Was Hunter going to do…that?
You knew he would be a generous lover. It was why you chose this.
Yes. Exactly. She wanted to feel pleasure, that was all. This had nothing to do with her heart, right?
Her pretend spouse’s hands skimmed over her ribs, her waist, her hips, as if determined to memorize every curve of her body. He kissed her stomach, her hips, her thighs, his mouth moving lower and lower until—until he was poised at her core.
She could feel his breath, hot and heavy, against her most intimate place. No one had ever—for a long time, she had never thought anyone would. She trembled in anticipation, her heart pounding in her chest as her hands went to his hair. And then, finally, blessedly, his mouth was on her.
Oh dear God—
She cried out, her hands fisting in his curls as he kissed her, licked her, his tongue delving deep into her folds. For some reason Hunter groaned against her, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure up her spine.
“Ye taste so good, Helena,” he murmured, his voice muffled. “Like honey and sin. I knew yer cunny would be the most delicious thing I ever put in my mouth.”
His words, his mouth, his hands—they were all driving her wild. She bucked her hips against his mouth, desperate for more, desperate for release.
He slid a finger inside her, then another, his mouth moving to her clit, sucking, licking, teasing as his fingers curled upward, pressing against his mouth from the inside.
Dear Lord, how was such a thing possible?
Helena couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think about breathing. Every muscle in her chest was tight, focused on the pressure—the pleasure—building between her legs.
“Hunter,” she gasped, her entire body tensing, her orgasm building. “Oh God, Hunter, I’m going to...I’m going to...”
“Come for me, lass,” he commanded in a rasp. “Let me taste yer pleasure.”
And with a final strong flick of his tongue, she did.
She came undone, her body convulsing, her cries of pleasure filling the room. Hunter continued to lick her, to kiss her, his fingers moving inside her drawing out the ecstasy as her inner muscles clenched at him.
Finally her body relaxed, releasing him, and Hunter withdrew, pushing himself up on his palms to grin victoriously at her.
“Christ, Helena, you taste fooking perfect,” he murmured as he crawled up her body.
He settled between her legs and, in a daze, she could feel his hardness probing at her wet, swollen entrance. Without thinking, Helena spread her legs to wrap around his hips as she reached for his cheeks to pull him into a kiss.
A kiss that tasted of whisky and her.
How incredibly wicked.
With a groan Hunter flexed his hips forward, the tip of his cock sliding into her. The sensation was stimulating, each nerve-ending in her core sparking. Her cunny, as he’d called it.
“Hunter,” she gasped against his lips.
“Aye, lass,” he groaned, bracing his weight. “Tell me now if ye dinnae want this.”
“I want this.” So very much. “Please make me yours.”
With a groan of surrender, Hunter thrust his hips forward, his cock sliding into her. Continuing to slide into her. Still sliding into her?
And she stiffened at the sudden rushing invasion.
Oh.
Perhaps she should have examined his cock in a bit more detail, because Hunter was big. Bigger than his fingers. Bigger than she had imagined.
Luckily, he’d frozen as well. “Helena?” His fingers brushed hair away from her forehead. “Are ye…”
“Just a moment,” she gasped, her eyes closed against the unexpected pain. “It is all a bit… My goodness.”
“Love,” he chuckled, leaning down to brush a kiss against her jawline. “I ken it’s been a while for ye, but ye must relax. Relax, sweet. Surely ye remember that?”
Relax? How could she relax? Her thighs tightened around his hips, the pain becoming acute. No, no, this was wrong—it wasn’t meant to hurt, was it?
“Helena…” Hunter kissed her jaw, his touches featherlight, but thankfully didn’t move otherwise. “Ye need to trust me.” Another kiss. Another. “Relax. Breathe.”
Well. She supposed she could try.
His kisses really were quite nice, weren’t they?
She gave the muscles in her thighs a firm talking-to, and eventually they agreed to release their death-grip on Hunter.
They slowly relaxed, and she found herself able to draw in a deeper breath as well.
The movement actually drew Hunter deeper into her core, and to her surprise, the movement didn’t hurt at all.
“That’s a good lass.” His lips moved to hers. “My brilliant Helena. Christ, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Ye feel good.”
Did she?
Her hands skimmed up his spine. Well, actually, she did feel quite well, didn’t she? Desirable. Wicked. Delicious.
The hard thickness filling her no longer hurt. It was big, definitely, but not impossible.
“Love, I’m going to move a bit. Just a bit,” he warned, his lips teasing her earlobe. “I want to make ye feel good.”
“But I feel…” Helena gasped, because her lover rocked his hips just slightly and white lights had lit behind her eyelids. “Hunter!”
He chuckled as he continued to move, his hips rocking gently against hers.
Each small movement sent sparks of intriguing pleasure coursing through her, her nerves singing as the pain faded into a distant memory.
She could feel every inch of him, filling her completely, stretching her in the most decadent way.
“That’s it, lass,” he murmured, his voice a husky growl in her ear. “Feel me. Feel how good I’m going to make ye feel.”
His hand found her breast, cupping it, his thumb circling her nipple and drawing a whimper from her lips.
Helena could hardly think but thinking didn’t matter right now, only feeling.
His mouth was everywhere, kissing her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, his teeth grazing her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
His hips began to move in earnest, his thrusts gentle at first, allowing her to grow accustomed to the sensation—but with each stroke her arousal grew, her body responding to his in a way she’d never imagined possible.
This was more than—this was so much—
She could feel the pressure building, her core tightening around him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“Ye’re so fooking perfect, Helena,” Hunter groaned, his hand moving to her other breast, his fingers rolling her nipple, sending bolts of pleasure straight to her molten core.
“Yer tits are magnificent, yer cunny is heaven.” Thrust. “Ye like my cock in ye, aye, sweetheart?” Another thrust. “Ye want more of this thick cock?”
His words were crude, wicked, sending a fresh wave of heat burning through her. She’d never imagined such words could be so arousing but hearing them from Hunter’s lips, in that thick brogue, was more than she could bear.
Her body taking over and her instincts knowing exactly what she needed, Helena arched against him, her body begging for more, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. “Yes—yes—”
His thrusts grew stronger, his hips moving faster, his cock driving into her with a force that left her breathless. She could feel the pressure building, her orgasm just out of reach. She was so close, so very close—and yet she didn’t seem to be getting any closer.
“Hunter,” she gasped, her body writhing beneath him. “Please—I need...I need...”
“I ken what ye need, love,” her lover growled, his hand slipping inexplicably between their bodies. His thumb found her clitoris, his callused pad circling the sensitive nub with expert precision. Helena cried out, her hips bucking against his hand, her body coiling tight as a spring.
“Now be a good lass and come on my cock,” Hunter commanded, his voice strained with his own repressed need. “Now, Helena.”
And with a final thrust, a final circle of his thumb, Helena shattered.
Her orgasm ripped through her, her inner muscles clenching around Hunter’s cock, her body convulsing with wave after wave of pleasure.
She screamed wordlessly, her hands clutching him, her body writhing beneath him as she completely let go.
Hunter groaned, his body tensing, but just as Helena expected him to find his own release, he switched his hand from her clitoris to his cock.
His abrupt withdrawal left her inner muscles bereft as he pressed his cock hard against her curls and groaned loudly.
She felt the warmth of his seed spilling against her as his hips rocked, the sensation prolonging her own pleasure, drawing out her orgasm until she was left panting and breathless.
“Christ, Helena,” Hunter rasped, his body shaking with the force of his release. He collapsed beside her, his hand still cupping her breast, his thumb still lazily circling her nipple. “Ye…ye are incredible, lass. Fooking incredible.”
Helena couldn’t speak, couldn’t form coherent thoughts. Her body was still tingling, her breath still coming in ragged gasps. All she could do was curl into Hunter’s side, her hand resting on his chest feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm.
“I dinnae ken how I’m ever going to let ye go, lass,” Hunter murmured, his arm tightening around her and pulling her closer, his whisky-scented breath warm against her skin as his eyes drifted closed. “Mine.”
Was she?
Helena smiled as her own eyes closed. She would need to sneak away from his room at some point, but why not allow herself a few moments to revel in the feel of his arms around hers?
She’d given herself entirely to Hunter Lindsay. She was no longer a virgin, but not quite married, either. He’d claimed her, and she was quite happy to be claimed.
But as his breathing turned to gentle snores, as her fingers stroked his bare arms, she had to wonder: Was it enough?