Chapter Twenty-One Hunter #2
I smooth my hands around her waist and over her stomach.
I inch higher and higher, and she leans into me, her soft back against my chest. I dip and press kiss after kiss to her neck.
Her hands slip over mine and guide me up to her breasts.
We both groan in unison. They’re heavy and firm, and as my fingers find her nipples, I want to shout out loud about how good she feels.
How she fits me. How this is better than I ever could have imagined, and we’ve only just started.
I lower one hand down, fingering the lace at the top of her panties.
I’m taking my time because I don’t want her to be disappointed.
I want her to be soaked—desperate for this.
I’m not sure when, exactly, I started wanting to have her in my arms like this, but however long it’s been is too long.
If the feeling isn’t mutual—if I don’t find her slippery and needy—I know it will hurt more than it should.
She bucks against my hand, impatient for my touch. I slide my fingers under the lace. My head spins as I reach silky wetness. I tip my head back and exhale.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” I gasp out. “Like you’ve been waiting forever for me.”
She pushes against my fingers like she wants more. So I give her what she wants. I push over her clit and through her folds.
“Hunter,” she gasps. Her knees buckle, and I wrap my free arm around her waist, keeping her upright.
I work my fingers through her folds, rubbing and circling, my fingers coated in her need for me.
I’ve never felt so fucking powerful in my life.
My cock presses against her back in response, hard and full and so ready for her.
“Oh, God.” She says it like she’s never felt anything like my fingers. Like it’s new and magic and she’s experiencing a whole new reality. “Oh, God, Hunter.”
“You feel so fucking blissful. Perfectly wet on my fingers. Perfectly soft. Perfectly ready.”
Her breathing is ragged and her body hot and soft, pressed against me in all the right places. “I am,” she says. “I want you.”
I groan at her admission. Yeah, we’ve shared things I never thought we would. We’ve talked, we’ve kissed, but this—this feels like what we were both born for. Like it’s our destiny or something.
“Please,” she says. “I want you.”
I can’t take any more. I just can’t hold back.
I walk us forward a few steps and place her hands on the wall.
“I’m half crazy, I need to be inside you so badly.
I’ve thought about this for so long. Imagined how you’d feel, tight around me.
How you’d sound when I pushed into you,” I breathe in her ear.
I yank down her panties, grab a condom, rip open the packet, and roll it on in record time.
I need her now.
We’ve been working up to this moment since Martha’s Vineyard. Since maybe even before that. And now it’s finally time.
I nudge her legs apart and press my cock against her entrance. She whimpers like it’s the most glorious thing she’s ever felt but she’s desperate for more. I have to clench my jaw to stop myself from cursing over and over.
I anchor my hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder, and slide into her.
Holding my breath, I push right up to the hilt, trying not to focus on her heat, the pressure, the way her hair falls down her back.
Her legs buckle, and I grab her hips. “No, baby. You need to be strong. Because I’m going to fuck you hard now. And you gotta stand.”
“Hunter. Please.” Her tone is sweet and pleading. I know I’ll hear her begging me to fuck her in my dreams for the rest of my life.
I’m officially toast.
I pull out slowly, then slam into her, my fingers pressing into skin, trying to keep her in place.
She feels so perfect. So soft. So warm, so incredible on my cock.
I glance down and get the perfect image of my cock surrounded by her and her wet pussy.
I look away. It’s too much. I drive into her over and over.
It feels like we’re in a bubble of bliss.
Like we’re under some kind of spell where everything is concentrated.
Colors are brighter. Smells more vivid. Her sounds pitch perfect.
I gather her hair and wrap my hand around it, tugging her head back.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say, thrusting forward. “So fucking tight.”
Her head tips like she doesn’t have the strength to hold it up anymore.
“Hunter,” she cries out. “Hunter.”
Oh, God, my name on her lips adds an extra floor of pleasure I’ve never experienced before.
Maybe it’s because I know how hard it is to impress this woman.
Maybe it’s because I know she tried hard to hate me.
Whatever it is, knowing she’s about two minutes away from coming on my cock, from orgasming because of what I’m doing to her, feels like I’ve been given the keys to the kingdom.
It’s a high I’ve never experienced before.
“Hunter,” she screams out. “I can’t—”
She’s helpless now. I own this woman under me. She can barely talk. Barely stand.
“I’m here,” I say. “You can come. I’m here.”
She calls out and convulses under me, and I can’t help but think how she’s giving herself to me in that moment. The thought pushes me over the edge of the cliff, and I thrust into her and release at last.
My arms wrapped around her waist, I pant, trying to catch my breath, trying to keep us both upright.
My God. She. Is. Everything.
I discard the condom, then scoop her up in my arms and carry her into my bedroom.
I set her on the bed. “Do you want water?” I press a kiss on her forehead, and she blushes and shakes her head.
“What we’ve just done, and it’s a kiss on the forehead that makes you blush?”
She shrugs and reaches for me. I scoot in next to her, and we lie in each other’s arms while we recover.
She draws circles on my arm with her finger, and my cock begins to lengthen.
This woman could gut fish on a fishing boat in bad weather, and it would turn me on.
There’s nothing about her that wouldn’t make me want to fuck her.
She eyes my erection like she’s a kid in a sweet shop. Then, with me lying next to her, she opens her legs.
I chuckle. “Again? So soon? You ready not to be able to walk tomorrow?”
“I’m ready not to be able to walk ever again if it means you’re going to fuck me.”
I groan and grab another condom.
I want to enjoy her body, suck and bite and play, but at the moment, I can’t see straight. I just need to be inside her. I need to fuck her. It’s like we’re making up for lost time or something. I have to have her.
I kneel to roll on the condom, and she shifts on the bed. I glance up, and her fingers dip down to her pussy.
I groan at her touching herself. In another lifetime, I’d be happy just to sit here and watch her. But right now, I grab her wrist and feed her fingers into my mouth, suckling them, tasting her delicious wetness.
“I want exclusive rights to make you come tonight,” I growl out.
A smile curves at the edge of her mouth. “Yes, sir.”
“Fuck, Lucy,” I curse, grabbing her thighs and pulling her toward me. “You trying to make me come before I’m even inside you?”
She presses her mouth into a thin line. “You think I could . . . sir?”
I push into her and shift so my body’s over hers. “I think you could make me come just by looking at me.”
“So I’m not a demonic witch anymore?” she asks.
I thrust into her again, and her fingernails dig into my shoulders. “May you always be a demonic witch, Lucy Jones. You don’t see me complaining.”
“If I’m a witch, you’re the devil himself,” she says on a laugh.
“But I’m your devil,” I say.
Our gazes lock. We’re teasing each other, but at the same time we’re telling each other something profound. I accept her exactly as she is. I know her. And I’m hers.
In this moment, it’s all true. I feel completely connected to her, completely open to her, and completely dedicated to her.
“Hunter,” she says, her tone reverent this time.
I press my lips to hers, and our tongues slip together like we’re sealing some kind of promise. Like this became less about urgent fucking, physical need, and desperate release and more about a union. A joining of minds, bodies, and souls.
Pleasure rachets up like a car climbing the summit of a roller coaster. Our kisses turn sloppy and wayward. There’s too much to focus on, too much to feel.
She opens her legs wider, and I push deeper, wanting to be closer. Wanting to be a part of her. Her fingers trail down my back, and her breathing comes heavier, her body jerking underneath me.
“Hunter, I’m close.”
“Me too,” I whisper. “Let me watch you.”
Her gaze glazes over, and I press into her, pushing her orgasm to the surface. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.
She opens her eyes as she floats back down, and the connection breaks the last tether of my climax. I push into her, keeping my gaze on her the entire time.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
What was that?
She hooks her leg up over my hip and trails her fingers up and down my arm. All I can do is think how I never want this to end. How I want to stay in my bed with her forever.
“You okay?” she asks me.
I mumble an affirmative response, and she lets out a small giggle I haven’t heard from her before. I realize I want to hear every type of laugh she has. See every smile, every tear. I want it all.
“For the record, I can confirm that it’s not all for show.”
I grin at her reference to my cock. “Good to know,” I say.
Her fingers wander. Over my shoulder, my collarbone, down my chest.
It’s all too good. She feels so good. Everything about her is exceptional.
I reach for her breasts. I’ve been so caught up with desire for her, I’ve overlooked each individual part of her.
I have no idea how that’s possible when she’s got the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen.
They’re pressed together as she lies on her side, her nipples jutting out, sharp and pointed, red and luscious.
I smooth my hands over her soft flesh, my thumb circling her nipple as she runs her hands over my neck, my jaw, my arm.
She moans as I play with her nipples. I can feel my cock harden again. I’m not sure how that’s possible so soon.
She notices and drags her hand over my balls and up my shaft.
Things shift in an instant. Instead of a slow, languishing exploration, everything becomes more urgent.
I take a breast in each hand and knead them together and tease and flick her nipples.
Her leg is still over my hip, and she bucks, pulling our bodies closer.
“More, baby?”
“Always more,” she says.
She doesn’t have to ask twice. I reach back for another condom, and she takes it from me.
“It’s tight,” she says as she rolls it on. “You’re almost too big.”
She knows exactly what to say to make me hard as fucking steel.
She grips my cock at the shaft and glances up at me.
She sighs and shifts. We both move so I’m on my back and she’s astride me.
She keeps hold of my cock and moves the crown through her folds.
I wish I could be bare to feel that. To feel her.
I want to be closer. To get more of her, if that’s even possible.
She positions the head of my cock at her entrance and pauses, glancing at me before sinking down.
Her eyes flutter shut, like sitting on my cock is the most blissful thing that’s ever happened to her. I really hope it is. I want to give her every blissful moment in her goddamn life. I want to be by her side when anything good happens to her so I can see the happiness in her eyes.
Her back arches and her breasts thrust forward and I catch them. Their weight in my hands is perfect. I smooth my hands down to her waist, and she begins to move, flicking her hips forward and back, driving me deeper and deeper into her.
Seeing her on top of me like this, her hair splayed out over her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her legs clamped either side of me .
. . It doesn’t get any better. For a fleeting second, I wonder why we didn’t do this earlier.
Why didn’t we sleep together while we were in Martha’s Vineyard?
Then I realize it wouldn’t have been possible.
If we’d done this all night, we would have never wanted to stop.
We’d have wanted to stay naked, exploring each other the entire weekend.
Being with Lucy is addictive, even without the sex.
The more time I spend with her, the more I want from her.
I wonder whether that feeling will ever stop.
“Oh, Hunter,” Lucy breathes. Her tone is so vulnerable and open.
I’m completely aware that not many people see this side of Lucy.
She doesn’t have time to be vulnerable when she’s too busy trying to make everyone happy.
She’s so concerned with everyone else’s happiness that she too often forgets who she is and what she wants.
I reach around to her ass and pull her onto me. Deep. Hard.
She gasps and falls forward, her palms on my chest. As she lifts her hips, I pull her back toward me, driving her back onto my cock. Her tightness is completely hypnotizing. It creates a buzz that zigzags across my body, making me want her more.
“Oh, God,” she calls. She’s not far from coming again. My chest expands, and I thrust up to meet her tight pussy. Yeah, I’m going to make her come again.
I sit up, wanting to be closer to her. Her knees are either side of my torso, squeezing me, tightening everything. Her breasts press against my chest as she moves, sinking onto my cock over and over.
I wrap my arms around her and press kisses against her collarbone. She’s so soft. So good. So tight. So perfect. Everything about her is completely perfect.
Her arms wrap around my neck. We’re so close, her movements are smaller, but everything’s more intense.
“I love . . . I love fucking you,” she whispers into my ear.
“I love fucking you too,” I reply. But it’s not what I mean. It’s not all I mean, at least. There’s something more. I just can’t quite find the words.
We press our foreheads together and our breaths mix as our orgasms explode between us, and it’s like we’re sharing the same climax. Her breathy moans prolong mine, make me want to tease it out and make it last for hours.
She clings to me as her breathing comes back to normal. I slump back onto the bed, taking her with me. I keep my arms wrapped around her tightly, wanting us as close as possible for as long as possible. I never want tonight to end. I don’t want to have to go to sleep and miss any of her.
I want to savor it. Keep her safe. Keep her mine.