Hunter
Butterflies. That’s the feeling in my stomach. Huge ass butterflies that are flapping their wings in time to my heartbeat.
Charlie glances back at me and tugs my hand around his waist as he leans against me.
I rest my chin on top of his head, breathing him in, and watch the wolves pace their enclosure in front of us.
They’re not as flashy as the snow leopard cubs, but they’re still my favorite. Solid. Steady. Survivors.
They sort of remind me of him.
I tighten my arm around his middle, palm flat against his stomach under the hem of his cropped hoodie. His skin is warm, and I feel the small hitch in his breathing when my thumb strokes just under his belly button.
“You’re really into wolves,” he says. “Didn’t think you’d actually have a favorite.”
“You mean the wolf emoji in your phone didn’t give it away?” I laugh.
“I mean…hindsight is 20/20.”
I press a kiss to the top of his curls. “They remind me of you. Tough. Loyal. Pretty when they’re not trying to rip your throat out.”
Charlie lets out a surprised laugh that turns into a shiver when I drag my thumb lower, tracing the waistband of his jeans.
“That’s… disturbingly romantic,” he says, tilting his head back against my shoulder so I can see the grin on his face. “You calling me pretty and feral in the same breath?”
“Accurate description.” I nip at the shell of his ear. “You’re cute when you’re sweet. Dangerous when you’re mean. Perfect either way.”
“You’ve never seen me when I’m mean.”
I shrug even though he can’t really see it. “I can imagine.”
He turns in my arms, chest to chest now, and looks up at me with his pretty eyes. “Keep sweet-talking me and we might have to skip the rest of the zoo.”
I slide both hands under his hoodie, palms spreading across his lower back, feeling the dip of his spine. “Are you complaining?”
He swipes his tongue over his lips and smiles. “I would never complain about sweet-talk. It’s one of my favorite things.”
“Good, because I have a load more that I can say.”
Charlie’s eyes sparkle with challenge and heat. “Yeah? Let’s hear it then.”
I lean down, lips brushing the shell of his ear as my hands slide further under his hoodie, palms flat against the warm, smooth skin just above the band of his jeans.
“You’re so fucking pretty when you get all flushed like this,” I murmur. “Makes me want to push you up against this railing and kiss you until you forget your own name.”
He shivers against me, fingers curling tighter into my shirt.
“Keep going,” he breathes.
I smile against his ear. “You’re dangerous when you’re being sweet. Lethal when you’re being a brat. And right now, you’re doing both, so I’m trying really hard not to drag you into the nearest bathroom and show you exactly how much I missed you.”
Charlie lets out a shaky laugh that sounds like a half-moan. He turns his head just enough to catch my mouth in a quick, filthy kiss before pulling back with a wicked little grin.
“You’re evil,” he whispers. “Talking like that when we’re supposed to be looking at wolves. And in public no less.”
“You started it.” I nip his bottom lip once. “With that hoodie. And those jeans. And the way you keep pressing your ass back against me like you’re testing my patience. Besides, I’m pretty sure we are one of the few people at the zoo today. Everyone else is doing something that’s a little warmer.”
“I can think of something warmer to do.”
“Jesus, Charlie,” I groan as he spins in my arms again, facing away. Then he deliberately grinds back against me.
“Oops,” he says, all fake innocence. “My bad.”
I tighten my arms around him, one hand splaying possessively over his stomach. “You’re lucky we’re in public, trouble.”
Charlie tilts his head back against my shoulder, looking up at me with dark, hooded eyes. “Am I?”
The look he gives me over his shoulder is pure sin. I have to take a slow breath to keep from kissing him stupid right here in front of the entire zoo. Even if there aren’t many people around.
“You’re going to pay for this later,” I warn, voice low.
His grin turns feral. “I’m counting on it.”
We stay like that for a few more minutes—me wrapped around him from behind, hands under his hoodie, trading whispered filthy promises and soft kisses to his temple while the wolves pace in front of us.
Every now and then, he’ll roll his hips back against me just to torture me, and I’ll tighten my grip in retaliation.
Eventually, he turns in my arms again and looks up at me with a softer expression.
“Take me home, Hunter,” he says quietly, no teasing this time. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”
I search his face for even a flicker of hesitation and find none.
“You sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
The door to Charlie’s apartment barely clicks shut before I have him pressed against it.
My mouth is on his the second the lock turns, hungry and deep, and he meets me just as fiercely.
His hands fist in my shirt, yanking me closer, while mine slide under his cropped hoodie and spread across his warm, bare skin.
He tastes like the mint gum he popped on the walk home and the faint sweetness of the iced tea he drank at the zoo.
I groan into his mouth when his tongue slides against mine like he’s been thinking about this the entire way back too.
“Fuck, Charlie,” I rasp against his lips. “Tell me again you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” he breathes, already tugging at the hem of my shirt. “I want this. I want you. All of you.”
I pull the hoodie over his head in one smooth motion and drop it to the floor.
My hands are everywhere—mapping the lean lines of his chest, the dip of his waist, the way his ribs expand with every shaky breath.
He’s gorgeous like this, flushed and eager, pupils blown wide.
I kiss down his throat, sucking lightly at the spot that always makes him whimper, and he does exactly that, head falling back against the door with a soft thud.
Sofia meows somewhere near our feet, clearly annoyed at being ignored, but neither of us stops. Charlie laughs breathlessly into my mouth and kicks off his shoes, then tugs me toward the bed.
“Bed,” he pants. “Now.”
We stumble the short distance, shedding clothes as we go. My clothes hit the floor. His jeans are next—I peel them down his thighs, dropping to my knees to help him step out of them. The sight of him in nothing but black briefs, hard and leaking against the fabric, makes my mouth water.
I look up at him from the floor. “Still okay?”
Charlie threads his fingers through my hair and nods, eyes dark. “More than okay. Get up here.”
I stand and kiss him again, my fingers going into the band of his briefs and pushing them off while walking us backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed.
He falls onto it, pulling me down on top of him.
Our bodies slot together like they were made for this—skin on skin, heat against heat.
I grind down against him once, and he arches up with a broken moan.
“Lube,” he gasps. “Nightstand. Top drawer.”
I reach for it without breaking the kiss, fumbling the cap open one-handed. Charlie takes the bottle from me, slicking his fingers first before handing it back. He watches me with heavy-lidded eyes as I coat my own fingers, then slick up my cock.
“You’re in charge this time,” I tell him, voice rough. “Whatever you want. However you want it. I’m yours.”
His breath catches. He pushes me onto my back and straddles my hips, knees bracketing my waist. The sight of him like this—flushed, hard, hovering over me with that mix of nerves and hunger—is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
Charlie leans down and kisses me slow and deep while he reaches behind himself.
I feel the moment his slick fingers press inside his own body—the way his breath stutters against my lips, the soft, needy sound he makes.
I keep my hands on his thighs, stroking soothing circles, letting him set the pace.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whisper. “Look at you. Taking care of yourself for me.”
He moans softly, working himself open with two fingers, then three. His hips rock in tiny movements, cock leaking against my stomach. I wrap my hand around him and stroke lazily, matching his rhythm, and he shudders.
“Ready?” he asks, voice wrecked.
“Only if you are.”
“Do you want protection?” he asks as if it’s an afterthought.
I shake my head, brushing my thumb over his hipbone. “I’m clean.”
“Me too.”
Charlie nods, breath shaky, then reaches for the lube again. He slicks me up with slow, deliberate strokes that makes my hips twitch. The cool slide of his hand combined with the heat in his eyes is almost too much. When he’s satisfied, he shifts forward, knees bracketing my hips, and lines me up.
Our eyes lock.
He sinks down.
The first press of his body against the head of my cock is pure, searing heat.
Tight. So fucking tight. I grip his thighs hard, not guiding, just holding on as he breathes through it.
Inch by inch, he takes me. His mouth falls open on a silent gasp when the head pops inside him, and the feeling of his body stretching around me is enough to make my vision blur.
“Fuck, Charlie…” My voice is wrecked. “You feel—God.”
He pauses, chest heaving, eyes fluttering half-closed. I can feel every tiny flutter and clench around me as he adjusts. His hand is braced on my chest, fingers spread, nails digging in just enough to ground us both.
“You’re so big,” he whispers, voice thin. “Fuck, Hunter… I feel so full, and you’re not even all the way in.”
I stroke my hands up and down his thighs, soothing. “Take your time, baby. We’ve got all night. Just breathe.”
Charlie nods, biting his lip, and sinks down another inch. The slide is slick and devastatingly hot. Every fraction deeper pulls a broken sound from his throat and a low groan from mine. When he’s finally seated all the way, ass flush against my hips, we both freeze.