Chapter 41 #2
‘See? I don’t need Flora. I can totally do this.’
Neither Hunter nor I want to come out and say it, but the path in front of me is clearing.
There is surely no way that Quentin can get this job now, if he even makes it to the interview in one piece.
Back on land, a taxi trundles us over cobbled streets past bleached white buildings that make up the picture postcard side of Athens, and drops us at a charming little boutique hotel covered in honeysuckle in full blossom.
Our room looks out on a quiet internal courtyard filled with pistachio trees.
Hunter showers first, and when he emerges, he’s wearing one of those crisp white hotel bath robes.
In an instant, I’m transported to our room at Chevening, where he wore a similar robe as he gave me a massage.
In some ways, that massage was even hotter than what we did later that night.
And given the current uncertainty around our status, I’m right back in that place of exquisite tension.
I hurry into the shower in the hopes of cooling off.
But getting naked hardly helps. Afterwards, I throw on a matching bath robe, then head back to the room and suggest the least erotic activity I can think of to pass the time: watching TV and ordering room service.
Since we’re both in the mood to be decadent without filling ourselves up too much, we opt for profiteroles and champagne.
Those are both basically just air, right?
Once they arrive, we lounge on the bed and put on an episode of Friends.
It’s almost as blissful as swimming in the sea earlier.
I alternate between asking myself how this is my life and knowing this is not my life, or at least there’s no way this is how my life is set to continue.
I try to put such thoughts out of my mind and focus on the episode.
But that’s hard when I’ve seen it several times before, and the man I adore is lying next to me on the bed in a white bath robe.
At one point, we reach for a profiterole at the exact same moment.
Hunter laughs, picks it up, and places it in my mouth.
We share a lingering look that sets my heart alight. My heart, and other places.
I turn back to the TV, but now I’m fixated on the way Hunter’s robe is falling across his legs, exposing the under part of his thigh. We’ve agreed to wait before deciding about our future, but we never said that meant a sex ban. Is he up for it?
I can’t bring myself to ask, but I can test the waters. I rest my hand on the bed next to Hunter’s leg and slowly shift until my hand is leaning against it. Hunter doesn’t react. Then I notice a twitch under the cotton. He’s turned on. That’s my cue.
I slide my hand down until it’s nesting between his legs. I can feel with the back of my wrist that even this modest action has got him hard, but still we keep up the pretence that we’re watching the episode, its soundtrack of studio laughter so regular and familiar that you almost don’t hear it.
I’m now very obviously pressing against Hunter’s boner with my hand. I carefully manoeuvre my forearm until it’s more or less running the length of it. I feel him twitch again.
I can’t hold off any longer.
All it takes is a slight twist of my hand for his robe to slide open and me to have his dick in my grasp. Without letting go, I turn so I’m facing him, and we start to kiss. As my own robe falls open, I shrug it off my shoulders and let it slump into a pile with his.
Hunter naked is a vision I can’t imagine ever getting bored of.
I slow down and allow myself to savour it.
The breadth of his shoulders tapering down to the sharp lines of his waist, the smooth definition of his stomach.
Our day at the beach has enhanced his tan lines, pale against the warm gold of his skin.
I long to trace them with my fingers, or maybe my tongue.
My awe melts into something hungrier.
Hunter holds my gaze, willing me to give in to it. My breath becomes shallow, my pulse quickens. Desire crashes through me. I want him with a force that borders on vertigo.
I push him back onto the bed so that I can kiss every part of him.
But how can I not be drawn to one part in particular?
His dick lies hard on his stomach, reaching all the way to his belly button.
I tease it with my tongue, delighting as even the slightest touch makes him shiver.
Then I take him deep, making him moan. My grasp becomes firmer, my lips move faster.
After one particularly loud moan, the silence draws attention to itself.
I look up and realise that the episode of Friends has stopped playing.
‘What do you want to do?’ I ask.
Hunter smiles. ‘Aren’t we doing it?’
‘You know what I mean.’
Hunter pauses, relishing the question. ‘Tell me what you want, Max.’
I can hear my breathing becoming heavy. But I don’t look away.
‘I want you inside me.’
A look of raw lust flashes behind Hunter’s eyes.
I feel a rush of excitement from my head to my toes.
We take a beat to make the necessary preparations, then Hunter flips me onto my front.
My mind is spinning so hard that for a moment, I’m unsure where he is.
Then I feel his breath on the curves of my butt, his tongue tracing along its edges.
He dives deeper and I gasp.
It starts as a flicker of warmth and wetness, disarming and shockingly intimate. Hunter’s movements are delicate but assured – experienced, but still exploring, like he’s figuring out which of his tricks make me quiver and shake.
Does he know no one’s ever done this to me?
Can he tell from the way it ripples through my nerves and up my spine?
For a while, I’m torn between tensing and melting. Slowly, however, I give in to the sheer unadulterated delight. It feels like Hunter is unfastening something I didn’t know was locked.
Before I know it, he’s climbing up to kiss the back of my neck, then whispering in my ear.
‘Are you ready?’
Ready? I could have kept doing that all night. I barely manage to whisper a response.
Hunter grins. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll start slow.’
I’m expecting him to enter me from behind, but he turns me onto my back, hoists my legs up over his shoulders, then eases into me without breaking eye contact.
Oh. My. God.
The first push steals the air from my lungs. The line between pain and pleasure blurs for a heartbeat, but it’s replaced by a heat so consuming it makes my vision swim. The physical sensation is almost unbearable in its intensity, but it’s more than just my body reacting.
Because this isn’t just anyone – it’s Hunter.
Every thrust feels like it’s binding us together, turning desire into something sacred. He leans in, kisses me, bites my neck. I cling to him, feeling the warmth of his lips.
Hunter pauses. ‘You doing OK?’
I nod, barely able to speak.
Hunter smiles. ‘Tell me how you want it.’
As I look into his eyes, only one word comes to mind. ‘More.’
Hunter eases back in, and this time, everything feels easier.
He gradually raises the tempo, but I can take it.
I want to be undone by him, claimed by him, remade.
The pleasure keeps climbing, impossibly high, rewiring me until I’m certain I won’t survive the force.
I can feel Hunter getting close, so I work myself until we’re both ready to burst. Then we do, all at once, in one blinding, glorious explosion.
We collapse onto the bed and catch our breath.
After a second, I tilt my head to the side and glimpse the TV remote.
I want to reach out, press the pause button, and stay in this moment forever.