Chapter 39
39
HUNTER
“I’m not such a nice guy in bed.”
Those are the last words Dylan says to me before he shows me just how wicked he can be. He is thorough, detail-oriented, and in control. He breaks me down and puts me back together only to start again.
I don’t know if my past lovers were inconsiderate, inexperienced, or downright incompetent. Or if sex— making love —with Dylan is so much better because it’s him. Because it’s us.
But the next few hours pass in a haze of tangled limbs, sweat-slicked skin, and mind-numbing pleasure. Dylan takes me to heights I didn’t even know existed, wringing orgasm after orgasm from my body until I’m a trembling, incoherent mess. He knows instinctively how to touch me, where to kiss, when to be gentle, and when to be rough.
By the time we collapse onto the rumpled sheets, spent and sated, it must already be afternoon. Dylan pulls me close, my back to his chest, his arms wrapped securely around me. I’ve never felt so safe, cherished, and content.
“That was…” I trail off, unable to find the words to adequately describe the life-altering experience we shared.
“Incredible? Earth-shattering? The best sex of your life?” Dylan supplies helpfully, his voice a low rumble against my back.
I turn, eyeing him appraisingly. “Definitely not the best sex of my life.”
He frowns, the cocky smirk slipping from his swollen lips.
“I’m not even sure we can call it sex.”
The grin slips back in place.
“It felt more like a merging of souls.” I let my palm trail down his arm, still marveling at the notion that I can touch him where I want when I want. Kiss him whenever I feel like it. That he is mine. Dylan Thompson is mine.
Dylan smiles, eyes shining even if a little droopy; the guy deserves a nap. “A merging of souls, huh? I like the sound of that.” He brushes his nose against mine in an Eskimo kiss.
I hum in agreement, running my hand through his hair. It’s damp with sweat, but I don’t care. Too many times before I had to stop myself from smoothing it. But now I want to explore every inch of him, learn every scar, every line, every texture.
“I have a question.” I trace idle patterns on Dylan’s chest with my fingertip. “Of the past twenty-four hours, how much of it was you?”
“What do you mean? It was all me.”
“Oh.” I prop myself on an elbow and tap his nose. “Am I to believe you routinely sing Taylor Swift while mopping the house?”
“Ooooh, that part.”
“Yeah, what was that?”
He cute-frowns. “Little counter-seduction scheme?”
“So the book, the movie, the massage, coming out of the shower in a towel, it was all deliberate?”
“In my defense, you tortured me for a week.” His fingers lazily trace the curve of my waist, probably to distract me—it’s working.
“You tortured me for years.”
“Unknowingly.”
“Tristan tells you I’m into you and then what, you two scheme to ruin me?”
“Don’t sound so indignant.” He pinches my ass lightly. “As if what you did with my sister was much different. At least I wasn’t trading with inside information.”
“Nina wasn’t a part of this?”
“No, only me and Tristan.”
“How did you guys come up with what to do?”
“Easy.” He shrugs. “The internet.”
“You googled, ‘how to counter-seduce my roommate’?”
“No, we used TikTok for research.”
“TikTok? Please, I need to know the exact text of that search.”
“Something along the lines of, ‘what BookTok girlies are into.’”
I sag back on the pillows. “Guess I should consider myself lucky you didn’t show up in fae-warrior wings.”
“No.” He kisses the swell of my breast. “But I’m taking notes for my Halloween costume. Do you prefer pure white or midnight black for the feathers? And should I go all leather—jacket, pants—or shirtless?”
I cut him a mock side glare. “We’ve established I’m into bare chests. Drinking the milk straight from the carton was a nice touch, by the way. Was that on BookTok, too?”
“No, that was a little improv from me. Glad to hear the performance was appreciated.”
“It was much appreciated.” I roll half on top of him again, pushing him into the mattress. “In fact, from now on, you’re not allowed to drink milk any other way.”
Dylan chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest under my palms. “Duly noted. Drinking restrictions are now in effect.”
His hands come to rest on my hips, his thumbs pressing into my skin. The casual intimacy of the gesture, the ease with which he touches me now, fires up my spine in a series of small bursts and tingles.
“So,” I drawl, walking my fingers up his sternum. “Was there something else in store for me today?”
“I was going for casual pushups in the living room, and in case that didn’t work, I would’ve gotten on my knees and begged.”
I raise an eyebrow, fighting a grin. “On your knees, huh? Seems I got you there anyway.”
Dylan chuckles, his eyes darkening a fraction. “I’d say it was more of a voluntary surrender. You make it hard to resist.”
I bite my lip to suppress the flutter in my chest. “If you surrendered, does that mean I won?”
His hand slides up my back, pulling me even closer. “Call it what you want, but I’m pretty sure we both won that round.”
I run my hand up his chest with a teasing smile. “Did you follow a TikTok tutorial on that, too, or are you a natural?”
Dylan laughs, his grin widening. “No tutorial needed for that one.” Then he turns serious. “You know, I didn’t really need TikTok to figure out how to get your attention. I only had to find the courage to show you how much I wanted you. How much I’m in love with you.”
My heart does a slow somersault in my chest, and I blink. His playful demeanor fades into something more intense, more honest. The moment stretches and expands as if time itself is holding its breath, waiting for me to respond.
My mouth goes dry. “You said you weren’t sure it was love?”
“Did I? Then I was wrong.” He pushes a lock of hair behind my ear and in the most natural tone, with the most open expression tells me again, “I love you.”
“I—” My voice fails me. I have no witty comebacks, no banter to use as a mask, the raw truth staring me down.
He tilts his head, observing me. “You don’t have to say it back. I already know. I already feel it.”
But I want to say it. To make him understand what this—what he —means to me.
The words are swirling under the surface, waiting to be spoken. It’s not fear holding me back, but the magnitude of what they mean. Saying them will change everything in the best way possible. I meet his eyes; they look at me, steady and patient, prepared to give me all the space I need to tell him when I’m ready.
The thing is, I am ready. “I love you, Dylan Thompson.”
Dylan’s gaze softens and hardens at the same time. “Say it again.” He brushes his thumb along my jawline.
I let out a small laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. “I love you, Dylan Thompson.”
He groans, burying his face in my neck and biting down. If we were in a shifter romance, I’d be marked now. Then he lifts his head again, his face brighter than I’ve ever seen it. “You know, hearing you say that… I could get addicted to it.”
I playfully narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll have to ration them out then, keep you on your toes.”
His grin turns wicked as his fingers tighten their grip on my hips. “Oh, I’ll find plenty of ways to get you to say it again.”
“Will you be using sex to bribe me?”
He leans in. “Not bribery, just… incentives. I can make it worth your while.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” I run my fingers through his hair again, savoring the slight shudder he gives me in response. It’s surreal to be in his arms with nothing left unsaid between us. The years of wanting, they’ve all led us to this perfect moment. “I can’t believe this is real.”
Dylan pulls back enough to look at me, his eyes holding mine with such intensity the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “It is real, Hunt. We are. And we’re just getting started.”
I lay my head on his chest, enjoying the steady rise and fall as he holds me. “I love you.” I test the weight of the words now that they’re out in the open, now that they’re ours.
“I love you, too.”
His arms wrap over me, cocooning me in a fortress. I’m physically trapped, but for the first time in years, I am free. Free of doubt, free of all the walls I built around myself. I listen to Dylan’s heartbeat, and the world clicks into place.
“I never want to wake up without you,” I tell him, my voice thick with emotion.
Dylan presses a tender kiss on my forehead. “You won’t have to. We’ve got forever, Hunt.”
And as we lie wrapped in each other, I know that our ever after has already begun.