Chapter 33 #2
Then he made me regret every sarcastic word I had ever spoken.
His mouth was hot and devastating, his hands firm on my thighs, holding me open for him like he had all night and no intention of rushing.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, trying to stay upright, trying to breathe, trying not to make any sound loud enough to wake Taylor, but it was a lost cause.
He knew where I was sensitive. He knew when I was close.
He knew the exact pressure that made my spine arch and my fingers pull hard enough on his hair to make him groan. The vibration of it nearly finished me.
“I can’t be quiet,” I whispered as his tongue ruined me.
He pulled back just enough to look up at me. His mouth was wet. His eyes swirled with lust.
“Come on my tongue and let me worry about keeping you quiet.”
That did it. He put his mouth back on me and sucked my clit, then slid two fingers inside me.
I broke so fast I barely had time to cover my mouth.
My body shuddered against the door, pleasure ripping through me in hot, sharp waves.
Hunter held me through it, one hand on my hip, the other working me gently until I was shaking and pushing at his shoulder because it was too much.
He stood slowly, dragging kisses up my stomach, between my breasts, along my throat.
By the time his mouth reached mine, I could taste myself on him. It made me wild.
I shoved at his shirt. “Off.”
His eyes flashed. “Yes, doctor.”
“Do not make that dirty.”
“Too late.”
I laughed, but he pulled his shirt over his head, and the laugh died in my throat. Bruises marked his ribs from the game. One deep purple bloom along his side. Another near his shoulder. The sight should have calmed me down. It did not. It made me want to kiss him everywhere. He was mine.
I ran my fingers over the bruise near his ribs. “Does this hurt?”
“Yes.”
I pulled back. “Hunter.”
He caught my hand and pressed it flat against his chest. “Not enough to stop.”
I shook my head, but I was smiling, and then he kissed me again, and neither of us was smiling anymore.
We stumbled toward the bed. My knees hit the mattress, and he followed me down, big body covering mine, one forearm braced beside my head.
He kissed me slower now, deeper, like the first rush had burned off and left something even hotter underneath.
I reached for the waistband of his sweats.
“If you touch me right now, this is going to be fast.”
“Good.”
His jaw flexed. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
“I didn’t invite you over for gentleman behavior,” I said.
“I invited myself.” His laugh was rough and short, and then his sweats were gone, and I forgot how words worked.
As he slid inside me, everything slowed.
His face above mine. The dim light across his cheekbones.
The weight of him. The way he looked at me before he moved, like he was asking even now.
I cupped his jaw. “Yes.”
He pushed deeper inside me, filling me. I dug my nails into his shoulders. He started slow. A deep, controlled rhythm that made me feel every inch of him, every breath, every place our bodies met. It was intimate in a way that should have terrified me. It did terrify me. It also made me want more.
“Hunter,” I whispered. “Harder.”
His control slipped as his mouth lowered to mine.
His hips drove deeper, stronger, the bed shifting beneath us.
I bit back a moan, but he caught it anyway, kissing me hard, swallowing the sound like he was the only person allowed to have it.
My legs wrapped around his waist. His hand slid under my thigh, hitching it higher, changing the angle until white heat shot through me.
“Oh.”
He froze for half a second. “Quiet.”
“I can’t.”
There was only him. His body over mine. His hand locked with mine against the pillow.
His mouth at my ear, saying my name. The pressure built fast, hot and unbearable.
I turned my face into his shoulder to muffle the sounds I couldn’t stop making.
He felt it. His pace went rougher, his breath breaking, his body tight with the effort of holding on.
“Come for me,” he ordered, low against my ear.
I came hard, my body clenching around him, and he buried his face in my neck, groaning so quietly it almost sounded painful.
A few more strokes and he followed, shaking over me, my name rough and broken against my skin.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. The only sound was our ragged breathing.
And maybe my heart trying to claw its way out of my chest. Hunter shifted carefully, then pulled me against him as we rolled to our sides.
His hand moved over my back, slow and soothing, like he had all the time in the world.
“You, okay?” he asked.
I smiled into his chest. “You ask that after you destroy me?”
His laugh was quiet. “I like checking.”
“I’m okay.”
I lifted my head. “You have to go back to your apartment before we both fall asleep.”
“I know.”
Neither of us moved.
“Paige is going to know,” I noted. She was the babysitter Hunter had hired to watch Isla.
“Paige already knows,” he replied with an impish smile.
“That makes it worse.”
“She’s very professional.”
“She’s twenty-one, Hunter, and babysitting while you sneak into your girlfriend’s bed.” I pressed my face into his chest, so I didn’t laugh too loud. His arms tightened around me.
I traced a finger over his chest. “You can stay fifteen more minutes.”
He looked down at me. “Did you just negotiate sex-cuddle time?”
I laughed. He kissed the top of my head, and I felt his smile against my hair.
“I can’t wait for your research project to be over so I can have you in my bed every night,” he said.
“I want that too,” I admitted.
“Christmas,” he said, lacing his fingers with mine.
“Christmas,” I repeated. I felt my eyes growing heavy. Hunter kissed me on the lips.
“Sleep, beautiful,” he said softly, and as I drifted off, I dreamed of him.