CHAPTER 16 – PASSION RECLAIMED #2
He bites his way down, hands following, until he’s got my knees hooked over his shoulders. He pauses, eyes locked on mine, and licks his lips. Then his tongue is on me, and I lose all sense of time.
“Ohh!” I cry out as he laps my slit, holding me open to enjoy my flavor. “Mmmm!”
Hunter’s tongue is ruthless, slow at first, teasing the outer lips, then circling my clit until I whine for more. He knows exactly what I want, exactly how to give it, and he does, never rushing, always in control.
“You taste like honey, sweetheart,” he rasps. “I could do this forever.”
I grab at his hair, tugging, but he just grins and keeps going, tongue fucking me, then lips sealing around my clit until I’m shivering.
He slides two fingers inside me, curling them just right, and I come so hard I nearly black out.
“Ohhh!” I scream. “Hunter yes!”
My back arches as a gush of fluid runs from my cunt. The spasms in my pussy are powerful and violent, my vision going black. I’m still spasming when he slides up, his cock pressed against my thigh.
“Did I say you could stop?” I pant, voice hoarse.
He kisses me, and I taste myself on his tongue.
“Not stopping,” he says. “Just changing gears.”
He kneels between my thighs, hands on my hips, and lines himself up at my tiny opening. The head of his cock is hot, huge, and I can feel every inch as he pushes in, slow and steady, until he’s buried all the way.
I gasp—he’s so much, it’s almost too much, and my pussy feels incredibly stretched. But I want all of it. I want every piece.
Hunter leans in, bracing himself above me, and watches my face as he starts to move.
“You okay, baby?” he rasps.
“Yes,” I breathe. “You’re just so big!”
He chuckles before kissing me.
“You can take me, sweetheart. You’re young and your slutty pussy loves getting stretched by big dick.”
His words are obscene, but I love it. The slow thrusts make my whole body light up, heat pooling in my belly, then my chest, then my toes.
My insides ignite as he goes harder, pounding harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing off the high ceiling.
I wrap my legs around his waist and hold on, nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck me,” I beg him. “Use my curves for your pleasure. Don’t hold back.”
“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”
He fucks me like a man starved, like I’m the only thing that’s ever mattered. My body opens for him, takes him in, matches every rhythm. I meet him thrust for thrust, and it’s not Daisy he’s fucking, or Tara—it’s both, and more.
He pulls out suddenly, flipping me onto my stomach, ass up and boobs dangling. He grabs the base of my neck, not hard but enough to remind me who’s in control, then drags his cock through my folds, wet and slick.
“You want it?” he growls, rubbing the tip against my other hole.
I shiver, nodding. “Yes. All of it.”
He grabs a bottle of lube from the nightstand, coats his cock, then lines up at my ass. I relax, pushing back, and he works the head in, groaning as he feels the tight squeeze.
“Fuck, you were made to be buttfucked, little girl,” he moans. “Oh shit.”
I turn my head to look at him over one slim shoulder.
“Yes, Daddy,” I mewl. “Stretch my horny ass out. I want it.”
His blue eyes flash, and then with a loud pop, my sphincter gives way and he slides deep into my rectum. The penetration is perfect, just this side of pain, and it makes my pussy clench hard.
“Good girl,” he moans, fucking me slow and deep. “You were made for this. My little buttslut, taking cock in one slide like that.”
“Yours,” I gasp, loving the ache. “I’m all yours.”
But after a few strokes, Hunter pulls out of my ass and aims back at my pussy.
With a slow slide, he goes back into my pussy, and then pulls out and re-enters my ass.
I’m jolted with surprise because we’ve never done this: alternating between the holes, sometimes fucking my ass, sometimes my pussy, filling me up like never before. I feel so taken. So used. So blissful.
“Yes, you like it don’t you?” he rasps.
I moan into the pillow before reaching back with both hands to pull my buttocks apart for him, giving him better access.
“Yes, Daddy. I’m both Tara and Daisy for you. My holes are two women sharing you simultaneously, savoring that big cock together.”
Hunter growls at the characterization, but I know he understands.
I’m both Tara and Daisy at once, taking cock with the hunger of two women.
My pussy and ass, used simultaneously, represent the duality of my nature, the new me, blended.
Hunter goes crazy as a result. His hands are everywhere.
On my hips, my breasts, my throat, my hair.
He pulls me up, arching my back, and bites my shoulder just enough to mark me with his dick buried way up my asshole.
“Say it,” he pants, voice animal. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Hunter. Always.”
He comes with a roar, pulsing inside my rectum, and I feel it, every twitch, every hot spurt. It’s so much, I come again, spasming around him, my body wrung out and ruined.
“Ohhh!” I scream. “Oh oh oh!”
But Hunter’s not done because he wants to be sure that both sides of my dual nature are pleasured. He pulls out of my ass with a roar, still coming, and then pushes deep into my pussy, filling me in both holes.
“Fuck!” he shouts. “Shit shit shit!”
It’s too much. I’m getting sprayed in both holes and I absolutely love it. I come again, my pussy squeezing along his fuckshaft, milking him of every drop as he dicks me hard, balls pumping. Finally, we collapse together, bodies sticky and shaking, not speaking for a long time.
When we finally catch our breath, Hunter rolls onto his side, pulling me with him, and kisses the back of my neck.
“That was…” he starts, but can’t finish.
I laugh, still shaking. “I know.”
We lie there, tangled, while the city glows outside the window. The candles are burning low now, the flowers starting to wilt, but in this bed, everything is alive.
I stroke his broad chest, feeling the steady pound of his heart, and for the first time ever, I’m not afraid of what comes next.
I am Tara Monroe.
And tonight, for the first time, I am whole.
There’s a special kind of peace that comes after destruction, and I’m basking in it.
The sheets are twisted, damp with sweat and semen, the bed itself half off the frame, pillows strewn like casualties in a war nobody really lost. Hunter is on his back, breathing slow and heavy, an arm flung over my waist like he’s trying to anchor me to the moment.
Outside, the city is glowing blue and gold, the windows pulsing in time with my own heartbeat.
I stare at the ceiling, counting the candles still burning on the far side of the room, and for the first time, I don’t feel like a ghost.
I feel real. Wanted. Adored by this man. I feel like I’m at home.
Hunter’s hand wanders up and down my side, tracing lazy circles, sometimes settling at my hip, sometimes drifting over my breast, always returning like a homing beacon. I can feel the words building up in him, the way pressure builds before a storm.
“So,” he says, voice rumpled, “what now?”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “I have no idea.”
He turns on his side, propping his head on his fist, blue eyes searching my face. “We could run away. To Paris, or Alaska, or somewhere nobody would ever think to find us.”
“You’re going to have to take me to Paris now,” I say. “You already ruined every other place for me.”
He grins, wide and wolfish, then sobers. “Seriously, Tara. You can have anything. Everything. You want to go back to school? I’ll pay for it. You want to work at the Daisy Cafe forever? I’ll buy you the damn store.”
I roll onto my side, so we’re face-to-face. “What if all I want is you?”
He closes his eyes, exhaling like he’s letting go of a lifetime of tension. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
I thread my fingers into his hair before leaning in to kiss him, and the heat that flickered between us earlier comes back, softer now, like embers under a blanket. We kiss, slow, more comfort than hunger, and when I break away, I say the thing that scares me most.
“I was afraid I’d lose Daisy forever,” I admit, voice so quiet I barely hear it myself. “I thought, once I remembered who I was, she’d disappear. And then I wouldn’t know how to love you anymore.”
Hunter shakes his head. “You never lost her, Tara. Daisy was just the part of you that wanted to be free. The part that knew what she wanted and took it, even if the rest of the world said she shouldn’t.”
I look at our hands, knotted together, his skin tanned and bronzed, mine ivory and pale.
“Is it weird that I want to keep being both?” I ask. “Sometimes I want to be Daisy, and sometimes I want to be Tara, and sometimes I want to be neither, just myself.”
He smiles, thumb stroking my knuckle. “I think you should be whoever you want to be. Or all of them. I’ll love every version.”
I close my eyes, let the feeling settle in my chest. “You’re such a liar,” I say, but I say it with love.
He laughs, then turns serious, tracing a line down my jaw. “I do have one thing to confess.”
My heart seizes a little. “What?”
“I should have told you right away, who you were,” he says. “Not because I wanted to hurt you, or keep you in the dark, but because I was selfish. I wanted to have you without the baggage. I wanted to pretend it was new, even though it never really was.”
I reach up, place my finger on his lips. “I know. You’ve apologized about that a million times already, Hunter, and I forgive you because we both got what we wanted in the end,” I say. “It just took a while to admit it.”
He kisses my fingertip. “I love you, my perfect, sexy, confounding woman,” he says, and this time it doesn’t sound like a dare or a confession. It just is.
I breathe him in, the scent of sweat and lilies, and I know I’m complete. I’m whole, with him.
We stay that way until the candles gutter out, the city falls asleep, and all that’s left is the warmth of his body against mine, and the certainty that, for once, I am not alone.
I am Daisy. I am Tara. And, finally, I am free.