Chapter 27 #2
If I turn up my eyes, I can see the way he’s watching me; there’s something wild in his expression that only spurs me on.
I hold his gaze when I take as much as I’m able to, letting him push deeper into my mouth, keeping a tight pressure with my lips so that I can feel every inch of him as he moves over my tongue.
I doubt I can even get half of him in my mouth, I think distantly.
His hips jerk when I suck softly, making a wet sound that feels a little obscene.
I tease the end with the tip of my tongue before swirling it all around the thick head, and the groan that tumbles out of his mouth when I dip it into the slit seems almost pained.
His taste makes me dizzy, stirring up the ghost of that same need I felt when I was fully in my heat, making this just as enjoyable for me as it is for him, I think.
“Tess. Tess.”
I push my lips down the length of him slowly, looking up at him as innocently as I can manage while my mouth is so full. “Hmm?”
“I’m going to come,” he warns me, sounding completely regretful. “I’m going to come in your mouth if you keep doing that.”
I pull off him with another exaggerated sound, only because it seems to really rile him up. “You can,” I tell him. “If you want to.”
I’m lifted off the bench so fast I don’t even know what’s happening at first. Suddenly his hands are under my arms and he’s tugging me upward to bring me right off my seat, plopping me down on the table as his mouth slants across mine roughly.
His tongue slips inside to pet at mine as his hand tugs my hair a little less gently to angle me into the kiss, and all I can do is wind my arms around his neck to hold on.
“That’s not where I want to come,” he breathes against my mouth between kisses.
I’m surprised I can even make words, my voice sounding hardly like my own with the way it rasps out of me. “What’s the alternative, Mr. Barrett?”
“Hmm.” He gives me another slow kiss that has me leaning into it. “Aren’t you cold?”
I don’t tell him that my sweater and my fleece-lined leggings feel a little sweltering now, shaking my head instead. “Getting warmer by the second.”
“Really?” For a moment, I’m actually put out by the way his fingers untangle themselves from my hair—until he reaches for the waistband of my leggings. “Then lift up.”
I drop my hands to brace myself against the tabletop, lifting my hips to let him start peeling my leggings along my thighs and down my legs, with my underwear in tow.
They slide over my wool socks to flutter to the floor and leave me in nothing else from the waist down, and I briefly wonder if I look ridiculous, half-naked in socks on a dining room table.
Not that Hunter seems to mind. He shoves the bench seat under the table with one swift movement of his foot, and then he’s kissing me again, stepping between my legs and stealing my breath with both his tongue and the sudden sensation of his very warm, very hard length slotting at my core.
He tilts his hips to let himself slide through my wet folds as if to coat himself in them, bumping my clit so that I shiver against him.
“You are”—he looks down to watch as he gives another slow, deliberate slide—“very hot here, at least.”
I shift a little, struggling to hold on to coherent thought. “How sturdy is this table?”
“I don’t know,” Hunter tells me, his lips finding mine to curl lazily as he draws back to nudge at my entrance. “Guess we’ll find out.”
“Oh.”
I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve done this over the last few days, but even still, it takes me by surprise just how much of him there is.
The way I’m sitting makes it easy for him to glide deep inside—my body welcoming him as he fills me up wholly.
It’s not as all-consuming as it was when I was fully in heat, but even still, the feel of him has my skin prickling with warmth and my insides twisting with want.
Heat or no, I think that’s just the effect he seems to have on me.
My nails dig into his shoulders when his hips meet mine, a rush of air escaping me, which he quickly swallows down as his mouth finds mine again.
“Fucking perfect,” he mutters against my mouth. “How are you so perfect?”
“I’m not really that per—Ah.”
His hips draw away to give me that slow, delicious friction as he pulls out, my eyes rolling back a bit as my belly tenses, flooding with warmth.
“Trust me,” he sighs, easing inside again as I gasp with it. “You are.”
He doesn’t hesitate to do it all over again, forming a steady rhythm, in and out, that has me clinging to him tighter.
He isn’t looking at me—his gaze is fixed on the place where we’re connected, watching himself push into me.
My eyes drift closed as I lean in to press my lips to his throat, mouthing there softly as I push my fingers into his hair.
“Hunter,” I breathe. “Right there.”
He pulls out just to drive back inside, hitting the place that makes me lose my breath. “There?”
“Yes.”
I feel one large hand at my shoulder, a finger hooking into my neckline to pull my sweater away, and then there’s the hot wet of his tongue and his teeth as he sucks at a place near my collarbone, which damn near makes me forget my own name.
I pull him tighter, which seems impossible given how little room there is between us as it is, and through it all Hunter never stops the way he rocks into me, moving a little faster with each thrust as his stuttered breath washes against my shoulder.
“Hunter,” I huff at his neck. “Can you—? I just need—”
As if he can read my mind, I feel his other hand snaking between us, pressing against my clit, rolling the sensitive bundle under his fingertips as pleasure sparks between my legs and my thighs tremble.
“I love the sounds you make when you come,” he rasps into my shoulder. He bites gently before he licks it, and I shudder as I remember what he said about my mating gland. “Can you come for me?”
“Keep—Yes. Right there. Don’t—Please. Please don’t—Fuck, Hunter.”
He grunts when I come apart, my entire body shaking against his as I moan through my orgasm.
It seems to go on forever with the way he continues to drive into me, chasing after his own release and prolonging that humming current that seems to be coursing through every inch of my skin.
He’s loud and rough when he finishes, groaning nonsense that I can’t fully catch.
Words like fuck and perfect and so good are the only pieces my brain can pick up on.
I feel his knot swell, pressing against my inner walls, leaving behind that delicious feeling of fullness, and I think there’s a good chance I might be a little addicted to the sensation.
Will anything after this ever compare to him?
Why does the thought of doing this with anyone else leave me irritated and a bit sad?
I have to push the thoughts away, not wanting them to sour my mood.
His chest heaves against me as he holds me close afterward, his lips trailing along my jaw before they find mine. “I have no idea how we’ve gotten any work done this weekend.”
“It’s fine,” I assure him. “I remember back in my high school health class they said you’re supposed to share your body heat to avoid hypothermia in extreme temperatures.”
Hunter smiles against my mouth. “I don’t think this is what they meant.”
“Whatever. Same difference.”
I’m fully aware of how close he is—how full of him I still am—but none of this seems to faze Hunter. His face is hardly inches away from mine when his hands come up between us in that same adorable little would-be camera gesture as he makes a clicking sound with his mouth.
I bite softly at my lower lip. “Another moment you want to remember?”
He smiles as he kisses me again, and just when I think we might be here for a good while, there’s a click above us, causing us both to turn up our faces as a sudden blast of slightly warm air begins to pour from the vent overhead.
Hunter’s surprised expression matches mine when his eyes find my face, and my lips tilt at the corners as I wind my arms around his neck once more.
“I guess they fixed the line,” he comments.
“Oh my God, we can shower,” I gush. I shift my hips, both of us wincing. “I definitely need one.”
“I keep making a mess of you,” he murmurs.
My smile widens as he closes the distance between us, brushing his lips against mine as he leans into the kiss. “I guess that means you should come clean me up then.”
“Are you asking me to shower with you?”
“That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
“Hmm.” He kisses me again, slower this time. “I can’t promise you’ll get clean.”
I grin against his mouth. “Sort of the whole point.”