43. Hunter
Forty Three
Hunter
The rush of our win still buzzed through my chest long after the final whistle. My hands itched to move, and my jaw tightened. The adrenaline was so thick I couldn’t sit still.
Every fiber of me was wired on the energy of the game and of her.
I’d basically yanked her out of my truck once we got home, throwing her over my shoulder, her giggles making my chest almost explode with warmth. The door slammed behind us, and I tossed my bag into the corner without care.
There was this raw, desperate need ever since the moment I’d jumped on the banister for her.
“Well, someone’s a bit pent-up there,” she drawled, half amused, half breathless. “You planning on tackling me too?”
I gritted my teeth, a feral desire spreading through my veins. “If you don’t behave, yeah.”
Her hands landed on my butt, grabbing a teasing handful, testing my limits. “Oh, so this is about behavior now?”
“No,” I growled, delivering a sharp slap to her ass before she could run her mouth again. “This is me taking what’s mine.”
“Heard that before,” she quipped, teasing like she knew exactly what she was doing. “Just don’t make it boring this time.”
Fuck me, my girl knew how to push my buttons. Without saying a word, I slid her down my front — there was no way we were making it to the bedroom — my fingers digging into the back of her thighs.
My mouth found hers: sharp and demanding with a raw intensity.
I pushed her back, the drywall trembling as she smacked against it. My fingers dug into her flesh, staking my claim.
“God, you’re impossible,” she breathed against my lips, laughter slipping through even as her fingers tangled in my hair.
“And you love it,” I growled, pressing closer, letting her feel the fire threatening to explode out of my chest. “You always do.”
Her smirk faded into something hotter, sharper.
“Maybe I do,” she whispered, running a teasing finger over my collarbone. “Maybe I don’t. You’ll have to earn it.”
I flashed her a sharp, dangerous smile even as goosebumps erupted across my body, then ripped my shirt off in one motion and tossed it aside.
“I already did,” I murmured against her neck, tracing the line of her jaw with my lips. “I earned every inch.”
Every brush of skin, every grip of my hands, and every heartbeat screamed the same thing. I hadn’t played for the crowd. I played for her. Always.
And tonight, she’d feel exactly what that meant.
“Oh yeah?” Fire was dancing in her eyes, the sparks almost palpable, and I felt heat licking up my spine. “Prove it.”
My girl wanted to play, did she?
Chuckling darkly, I slammed my mouth on hers.
It started like punishment. Teeth, tongue, zero patience . But she returned my feral need with fiery passion, tempting the fucking beast inside of me.
Her hands fisted in my hair, nails dragging over my scalp, the pain so delicious, a savage growl rumbled through my chest. When she bit my lip, I grabbed her wrists, slamming them above her head without breaking the kiss.
“Adorable,” I murmured against my mouth. “You really thought you were running this?”
She was breathless but still managed to sass, “I was doing a damn good job.”
Wrong fucking answer.
Using my hips, I pinned her harder against the wall. I was fucking gone, all semblance of control thrown out the window.
I ran my hands over the tight curves of her body, palming every inch I could reach, tracing up her thighs like they were memorizing her for the thousandth time. Her skirt bunched around her waist, exposing more and more of her smooth skin.
I didn’t hesitate; I never did when it came to my girl. I was too fucking greedy.
Caging her in with my arms, the single-minded obsession I’d only ever experienced with her, I sucked and bit my way down her neck to bury my face in her tits.
“Hunter—” My name was a broken whisper against the frantic thud of my heartbeat.
I cut it off with another kiss, savage and bruising, until she was desperately clawing at my back.
Roughly shoving her skirt up to her waist, my fingers hooked in her panties and snap . The elastic gave with a vicious sound echoing through the hallway.
Then I tossed the ruined scrap of lace over my shoulder unceremoniously, ignoring her shocked gasp. I’d buy her ten fucking new ones if she wanted.
Shoving my sweats down just far enough, I dragged my boxer briefs with them until my cock sprang free. Angry red, the tip leaking, and the veins standing out prominently.
The first thrust was a shock. Brutal. Sharp.
I drove into her in one long thrust, dragging a cry from her throat as she threw her head against the wall with a dull thud.
The cool touch of my metal ring against her slick heat felt exquisite. My piercing dragged relentlessly over her sweet spot, coaxing breathless moans to escape her lips.
It was too much and not enough simultaneously. Her nails were raking down my back, desperate for purchase, as sparks detonated behind my eyes.
“Oh, fuck!” The words burst from her lips when I snapped my hips forward again, harder this time, pinning her against the wall.
“Look at you, baby,” I panted against her throat, my breath brushing over her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “So cocky a second ago. Now you’re shaking for me.”
I could see how badly she wanted to give me sass, but her jaw went slack and her eyes glazed over with every thrust driving the breath from her lungs. Every graze of my piercing was branding her from the inside out.
“You think anyone in this building can’t hear you?” My voice dipped, filthy and dangerous. “Let them know who’s stretching your little pussy. Let them know you’re mine.”
Mine . The word rooted deep, blooming like fire.
I kept going, driving her higher, wrecking her so good she wouldn’t be able to think past the pulse of pleasure ripping through her.
When her orgasm hit, it was devastating. Her whole body arched off the wall, and a helpless cry tore from her throat as she shattered around me.
I followed with a guttural groan, my hips stuttering before I buried myself deep inside her. My hot cum filled her as I stilled, my chest heaving against hers.
For a long beat, it was just us — wild and ruined, breathing like we just ran a fucking marathon. My hand skimmed down her body, a possessive stroke over her thigh, before I pressed a kiss to her temple. It was soft and intimate, a contrast so sharp it verged on painful.
“Next time you wanna play, baby…” My voice was a rasp against her skin. “…remember how it ends.”
And the look in her eyes told me she would. Again and again and again.