Chapter 14
HUNTER
Her eyes locked with mine, pupils blown wide, lips parted around a shaky breath. “Yes.”
I’d already known she’d say it, the same way you knew the first drop of rain was only the start of a storm. This was inevitable.
I yanked her off that counter, and I felt starved, reckless, and rougher than I should have been with her. But she was already moving, legs winding around my waist, arms around my neck, and nails biting into my scalp.
I stumbled us down the hallway, her mouth at my throat, teeth grazing my skin. I pressed her against the wall before we made it to her bedroom door, just to get a grip on myself and another taste of her. I kissed her hard and rocked my hips against hers until she whimpered.
There was no point trying to hide the roughness in my hands, or the way my breathing had turned ragged. I carried her the last few feet into her bedroom, and I let her slide down my body, her feet hitting the floor with a soft thud.
I took a step back, hands braced on either side of her waist, and made myself breathe. Maggie was standing there in front of me, shirt wrinkled from where I’d gripped her, hair wild, eyes almost black.
She reached for the hem of her shirt, and I stopped her, needing to do it myself. My hands slipped under the thin cotton, tracing the sharp lines of her ribs and the delicate curve of her waist. Her skin was hot and alive against my palms. I wanted to drag it out, to take it slow, but I couldn’t.
I pulled the shirt over her head before running both hands up her sides, and when I reached the clasp of her bra, my hands betrayed me. I fumbled with the clasp, unable to get the hooks to budge, and she laughed softly.
I finally got the clasp, but she was still laughing as the band snapped loose and the straps slipped from her shoulders. She kept her arms crossed, holding the cups over her chest.
“Something funny?” I asked, and fuck, my voice was so full of want.
She shrugged, trying to hide her smile, and I reached forward and hooked a finger at the center of her breasts, pulling the fabric away until it fell to the floor.
I let my eyes move over her slowly, the way I’d wanted to since long before tonight. I looked at her like I had the right to, and I cataloged every inch—the flush painting her skin, the freckles scattered along the tops of her breasts, and the perfect, impossible shape of her.
She held herself still under my gaze, arms loose at her sides, chin lifted slightly. I’d seen her a hundred times, but not like this. Not with her guard stripped away and her eyes soft and searching mine.
I reached out and pressed two fingers to the pulse pounding at the base of her throat, feeling it beneath my touch, then I dragged them down slowly, past her collarbone, stopping at her sternum.
I wondered if she’d ever stayed still long enough to let herself be wanted like this.
She was always running, always thinking of everyone but herself, but now, when I palmed her hip and ran my thumb over the sharp line of bone there, she went still.
I kissed her shoulder, then the spot right below her ear, then the line of her jaw. I let my mouth follow the path my hands had traced, down her neck, along her collarbone, over the perfect swell of her breast. She arched into me then, and a sound escaped her as I ran my tongue over her nipple.
She shuddered for me, every muscle under my hands tensing and rolling as if she was torn between pulling away and begging me for more.
I wanted her as desperate as I felt, more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life, and I wanted her to know it.
I wanted her to feel it in the bite of my teeth, the heat of my mouth, and the way my hands held her hips so fucking tight as if I could anchor her to the moment.
Her hands flew up and twisted hard in my hair, and I chased that pain, letting it ground me.
My mouth mapped the line of her breast, before moving lower, kissing down her stomach. I stopped just below her navel and looked up at her. I slid my hands around to the small of her back and pulled her in so her stomach pressed to my lips.
She was squirming against my grip as if she were trying to claw her way out of her own skin. One of her hands was still knotted in my hair, and the other was braced on my shoulder. She stared down at me, breathing so hard I could see her ribs moving beneath her skin.
“How do you want me to fuck you, Mags?”
Her lips parted, and I watched her try to find the words and fail. I kept my hands where they were and waited. I wanted to hear her ask me for exactly what she wanted because I would wreck myself giving it to her.
“I want…” I could see it in her eyes—the fight, the stubbornness, the need. She shook her head, but when I squeezed the curve of her hips and brushed my mouth over her stomach, her gaze slammed back into mine. “I want you to fuck me like you never did with her.”
Her words stripped me raw. I’d wanted her for years, wanted her undone and wild and finally mine, but not like this, not with her sister’s ghost in the room.
I gripped her by the hips and pushed her backward until I could stand fully. I caged her in my arms, pulling her into my chest, and let her feel the full weight of my need. Every part of her trembled for me, but I could see her trying to hide it, fighting for pride even now.
I caught her jaw and tilted her face up. She resisted for a second, regret flashing in her eyes before they finally met mine.
I held her there and let her look.
“There’s no one here but me and you.”
I kissed her slowly with everything I’d spent years not saying, and I felt the moment she stopped fighting. Her fists uncurled against my chest, her breath crashed against my lips, and I knew her body had made a decision for her that her pride hadn’t allowed.
I pulled back just enough to feel her chase me then I kissed her again, harder. I walked her backward until her knees hit the bed, and I didn’t think about anything but Maggie.
I wanted to drag this out, to let the want in the room stretch so thin it might snap, but I’d already waited too fucking long.
I reached behind me, hooked my thumbs under the back collar of my shirt, and peeled it off slowly, feeling her eyes on every inch of skin as it came into view. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven bursts, and I wanted her to look at me like this forever.
She sank back on the mattress, her hands fisting in the sheets at her sides, and her honey-blonde hair fanned out around her like sunlight.
She looked like everything I’d ever wanted and nothing I deserved.
Every detail of her was burned into my memory from years of watching her, but this was the first time I’d gotten to see her stripped of all that armor.
I took my time with my boots, letting the anticipation build in my own body, even though every cell wanted to tear them off and close the distance between us.
I wanted her to see what she did to me, to see the evidence of years of self-denial and want, every unspent ounce of it written across my skin.
I’d imagined her like this more times than I could count, and I was finally out of reasons to say no.
I gripped her knees, fingers sinking into the soft skin just above them, and pushed her legs open. She whimpered and arched off the bed.
“Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself, Sunshine?”
“What?” Her voice trembled.
I let my thumb trace the inside of her thigh in a lazy, possessive circle.
“Do you make yourself come while you’re thinking about me?” I repeated, letting the words hang in the air between us.
I let go of her knee and took a step back as I unbuckled my belt. She watched my every move, her hands still fisting the sheets, and I shoved my jeans and boxers down my legs and kicked them to the side.
I wrapped my fist around my cock and stroked it slowly, watching her eyelids go heavy.
I pulled the chair from her vanity and dragged it to the foot of her bed, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. I sat back, knees wide, and let her look at exactly what she’d done to me.
I stroked myself again before I ran my thumb over the head, and she pressed her thighs together.
“You gonna answer me?”
She went still, and I swear, a blush crept over her whole damn body.
She looked away from me, eyes darting to the side. She was naked, angry, and impossibly shy, and I wanted to drag all of it out of her until there wasn’t anything left to hide.
When she spoke, her voice was tight with challenge. “I don’t know, Hunter. Have you ever thought of me?”
“You’re all I think about, Mags.”
Her gaze snapped back to me, and for a second, neither of us breathed. I kept stroking myself slowly, but I didn’t move to close the space between us.
I kept my eyes on hers until her gaze finally dropped to my cock, and she looked at me like she wanted to devour me but didn’t know how to ask.
“I think about how your pretty mouth would part for me. I think about those stubborn green eyes going soft and begging for more. I think about bruising my hands on your hips and having your perfect thighs wrapped around me. And I come so hard for you, only you, every fucking time.” I let the words hang there, heavy and real.
“You’re in my head every time. Even when I try not to let you in. ”
Her lips parted, and her eyelids fluttered. Whatever argument was left in her body burned away, and what replaced it was something desperate and hot and so much more real than the lines we’d ever managed to draw between us.
I ran my hand slower, squeezing at the base. “I wanna see how you make yourself come for me, Sunshine.”
Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip as she spread her legs. Her whole body was shaking, but she held herself open.
I let my eyes move over her, memorizing every slick, trembling inch, and nothing in my life had prepared me for the sight of her like this. She was beautiful and wanting and finally, finally mine to look at.