Chapter 30 #3
She turns to face me and grasps my face in both hands, kissing me hard.
Then she pulls back with a mischievous grin and slides down my body to her knees.
Unzipping my pants, she tugs them down with my boxers, but they get stuck on my prosthetic, and my insecurities bubble to the surface.
I brace myself for the disgust, but she doesn’t hesitate, softly untangling them and slipping them to my ankles.
The sight of her on her knees in front of me is enough to have my cock leaking, but her total disregard for my prosthetic has it throbbing. Having her full acceptance douses any lingering self-doubt.
Sloan licks her lips as her eyes peruse my body. “I fantasized about this too,” she says before she licks her hand, moving closer and gripping my cock. Her touch makes my head go blank.
“You’re fucking enormous. I wonder how far I can take you in my mouth.”
Fuck.
I can’t contain the groan that leaves my lips at her words or the rocking of my hips as she pumps me a few times.
My head goes blank as her hand moves up and down in a rotating motion.
Leaning in, she kisses the head of my cock with an open mouth.
I moan and tense, letting my hand come down to cup the back of her head.
When she takes me in her mouth, her hazel eyes fixed on mine from under her lashes, my balance falters, and I almost choke on my next inhale.
Shit.
I release a long breath, closing my eyes. The intensity is almost too much.
With a flick of her tongue, she swipes across the top, licking my head and circling it like it’s her favorite ice cream. A hiss escapes between my teeth, and I gather her hair behind her in a ponytail so I can watch all the expressions that flicker over her beautiful face while she sucks my cock.
“Goddamn,” I breathe out when she lets her tongue glide up the length of my cock. A groan breaks free before I whisper through gritted teeth, “Fuck, so good. You’re so good.”
She takes me as deep as she can, gripping the base with just the right pressure. My balls are already drawing up, so I pull on her hair, making her lean back and release me with an audible pop, my cock glistening from her saliva, which is also dripping from her chin.
Fuck.
“Sorry, Shortcake, but if I let you do that any longer, I’m gonna come so hard down your throat, it will take at least an hour until I can go again, and I need to fuck you first. I need your tight pussy.”
I’m still dreaming about how she gripped me, how I barely fit.
So damn good.
She nods eagerly. “Fine, let’s keep the coming down my throat part for later. Birthday boy calls the shots.”
I laugh and grip her under the arms to pull her to stand, then lean in to kiss her hard. “Birthday boy wants you on the desk, thighs spread for me.”
She grins and steps back, laying her hands behind her flat on the desk and pushing herself up to sit on the edge.
Unable to stay away any longer, needing to kiss her again, I step between her legs, bringing my cock to her slit.
I grind into her, coating my length in her wetness while I press my lips to hers, groaning into her mouth.
“Lay back,” I command against her lips, putting a hand on her chest and gently pushing her to lay down on the wood. I need to see all of her, and I pull the other cup of her bra down, exposing her perfect breasts. They are too tempting, and I lean down to suck a nipple into my mouth.
“Hunter,” she whimpers out, and it’s the most erotic sound to my ears.
I fucking need to be inside her.
Now.
“I need you,” she echoes my thoughts in a plea.
Her hands come up in my hair, clutching the strands at my scalp, pulling me even closer.
“What do you need, Shortcake?” I breathe into her skin between nips, wanting her to say it, needing to hear it. I need to know one hundred percent that this is what she wants and that we’re good again.
She lets her hand wander down my back, sliding around between us until she’s holding my cock in her hand. “I want you to stop playing and fuck me already, Hunter,” she commands, but it’s breathy and dripping with desire.
A groan rumbles through me, and without another word, I find her lips in a slow, soft kiss while I press into her, moaning into her mouth while her breath hitches, not stopping until I’m fully seated inside.
Finally, back home.
I let her adjust to me, leaning back a little, watching as she catches her breath. We’re already panting, the air thick with arousal and need. When I can’t take it any longer, I start to move, sliding in and out with a slow, sensual pace.
“Tell me how you want it,” I demand, nipping at her bottom lip while her hands are on my neck, her nails scraping softly against my skin.
“Deeper,” she begs, wrapping her ankles around my waist and pulling me even further inside her.
“Fuck,” I moan, hooking one of her thighs in the crook of my arm, sinking deeper and deeper with every thrust, making her gasp and tremble under me, “You feel so good. You take me so fucking well. Fucking… perfect.”
Her head rolls back as she lifts her hips to meet my every thrust, and I let my hand glide from her hips to her pussy, circling her clit with my thumb, just like she showed me she does when she fingers herself.
The pressure building in me is almost too much, and I know I’m on the edge, but I need her to come first.
I don’t want this to end.
My thumb circles her clit until she’s writhing beneath me. I watch as her body tenses, and she bites her lip, pressing her eyes shut, her breath coming in short pants. She moans beautifully, and I see her pulse racing just as fast as mine when she bares me her throat.
Having her come undone beneath me, knowing I’m the one making her feel this kind of pleasure, allowing her to forget all her worries, has a prickling sensation running down my spine.
I shudder when her pussy spasms around my shaft. Holy shit.
Her body is trembling now, my release drawing close, so I lean down and gently bite her nipple. At the same time, I pinch her clit, and she falls over the edge with a loud moan, shuddering, her pussy gripping me hard.
Riding out her orgasm, my pace increases, each thrust pushing deeper.
I groan out, trying hard not to slam into her, wanting to love her with each touch.
Sinking deep, I grind into her, my orgasm hitting me without warning.
I can’t move, my hips jolting with my release causing Sloan’s breath to stutter as my pelvis rubs against her sensitive clit.
My fingertips press into her hips with possessive force as I pull her to me one last time, wanting to be as deep as possible, spilling every last drop of my release inside her.
Marking her.
Claiming her.
I know she’s not just mine, but right now, she is. Fuck everyone else.
Capturing her lips once more, I kiss her passionately, not willing to separate from her just yet. Our tongues tangle until we’re completely breathless, our hands caressing each other like we’re committing this moment to memory.
Silence rings through the room when I lean back, pulling out of her. My eyes track how my cock leaves her and how my cum follows, dripping out of her to the floor.
Fuck, that image just burned itself into my brain.
My gaze finds her face again, but she’s laying with her eyes closed and her chest and those perfect breasts moving up and down rapidly as she attempts to regain her composure.
A grin breaks out across her face, making my heart flutter, and I slide my hands under her to pull her up to me in a tight hug.
“Happy birthday,” she whispers in my neck. “I hope you liked your present.”
“As long as you’re my present, I will always love it. I just want to be here and breathe you in. That’s all I could wish for and all that I need,” I mumble against her, taking a deep breath of her coconut scent mixed with sweat and my scent.
Mine.
“No dummy, the sex was the present. You can have me any way and any day,” she whispers, and I squeeze her to me.
I have her back.
“Oh, I absolutely love sex as a birthday present. I’m gonna want it every year now,” I chuckle, kissing the top of her head before I let go and step back.
Grabbing her panties and jeans off the floor, I help her put them on when she hops off the desk. I hate to see them go, but I adjust her bra, effectively covering her breasts before I slide her sweater over her head.
I pull up my boxers and pants when she’s dressed again and leaning against the desk.
“What a nice way to christen your new office.” I smirk, gliding my thumb over her cheek, and add, “I think we need to do this with my office too.”
“I’m ready to christen any room you want to.” She smirks, making me laugh.
I’m so damn happy I could burst.
My thumb wanders from her cheek to her chin, stroking over it, and she leans in to kiss my thumb. I pull her close so her head rests on my chest again.
“So this is it, it’s real?” she questions, her voice a fragile thread in the quiet room.
“What’s real, Shortcake?” I ask, my lips brushing against her hair, trying to infuse some lightness into the moment with the shift in her mood.
“I can have you, all of you? We’re gonna do this?” Her voice is barely audible, yet it’s charged with a vulnerability that squeezes my heart.
“I would have never gone this far with you if I wasn’t willing to give you what you need, Sloan. I fucked up once. It’s not gonna happen again. We all want to make this work,” I assure her.
We can do this. We’re gonna do this.
“But it’s not just about me—” She starts, but I need her to see the truth, to understand.
I lean back and grip her chin gently between my thumb and forefinger, coaxing her to meet my gaze.
“I already told you once, even though I didn’t fully understand it then.
You’re good for us, for each of us. We all want you and to be good for you.
It’s not just about you. It’s about all of us.
It’s about making this work, being a family. ”
Her eyes are glassy, filled with a turmoil that sets my nerves on edge. “Hunter, there is something you guys don’t know, and I need to tell you. But I’m so scared. This could ruin everything again, but I’m not going to give him up.” Her voice cracks, and a sense of dread pools in my stomach.
“Him?” I can’t hide the sharpness in my voice, the sudden flare of jealousy.
The thought of sharing her with my brothers is one thing. I’ve come to terms with that and even see the sense in it. But another man? That’s a different story entirely.
“Saylor,” she whispers, and my world tilts.
I freeze, feeling as though I’ve been plunged into icy water.
Saylor.
My heart feels like it stops, and the room falls into a stifling silence.
“You, he… what?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“I want to talk to all of you about it, but yes, Saylor. All of this, if we do this, it has to include him.” Sloan’s voice is firm, her determination clear.
How? The word reverberates in my mind, a drumbeat of confusion and disbelief.
“Sloan, Saylor is—” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“I know, okay? I know, but he’s real to me. For me, he is just as alive as you are. He’s just on the other side. But he’s just as important. He was the one who was always there, always had my back, and never hurt me. I love him, Hunter. He’s mine.” Her confession hits me like a physical blow.
How? The word is still echoing in my mind.
“You can see Saylor, and he is here with you?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice steady.
It can’t be.
“Well, not all the time. It’s complicated. He’s not right now. But I will tell you guys all about it when we talk,” she says, her voice softer now. “I know that’s a lot. I’m sorry to just spring this on you, but I tried to tell you…”
True, I remember when she told us, the disbelief that had clouded my judgment.
I wanted to believe her, to trust her. I was ready to listen, to give her the benefit of the doubt.
But then she said the only thing that could have made me choose a side that wasn’t hers.
The only thing that was bad enough to make me abandon her even though I promised her forever.
She mentioned Saylor, and I felt betrayed.
That day, when I turned my back on her, it felt like denying a part of myself. I remember the sight of her, broken and crying, and how it tore me apart. But her words, her claims about Saylor—they felt like manipulation, a cruel twist using my grief and love against me.
But now, hearing her speak with such conviction, such unwavering belief, I’m forced to confront a possibility I had refused to consider then, a possibility that snuck in over the course of the last few weeks.
What if Saylor is here in some form?
What if Sloan, in her unique way, had been in touch with a part of him that I believed was lost forever?
“Yeah, maybe you have to explain that part to me because he’s the reason why I didn’t believe you initially,” I share, my voice barely more than a whisper.
“What do you mean?” Sloan looks confused, stepping back and crossing her arms defensively.
“You said you can see and talk to ghosts,” I point out slowly, searching her face.
“Yes, and I think I proved that,” she retorts, her voice tinged with defensiveness.
“But—” I start, trying to find the right words to tell her what she needs to hear, what she doesn’t seem to know.
“But what?” she asks, her tone cold.
“Sloan, Saylor isn’t dead.”