He chuckled at her expression and ran his hand across his abs. “You like what you see?”
“I guess.” She blinked at that bulge again. “I’ll let you know when I see the rest.”
Her mouth watered and she bent her legs, sliding her feet up towards her butt. As she moved, her skirt slid up almost to her hips. She pushed her feet a little further apart, knowing he’d be able to see all the way under her skirt now. All the way to where she was hot and wet. It was so simple, but being secretly exposed in this way was such a turn on. Her hips lifted again as she squirmed at the sight of him. Her hands fisted at her sides as she held back. A series of urges ricocheted through her—she wanted to feast on his body and feel every ounce of pleasure her could offer her. She wanted to pull him down and have him fuck her right this second—to plunge deep and quick. She ached for his possession. Desire swept over her—so blunt, so basic—a primal, animalistic need. She needed to feel good. Needed it now. Needed him.
Suddenly she had no patience to play and delay what she hungered for so badly. She needed to come. The craving was ferocious—utterly consuming and out of control. She didn’t even bother sliding her hand up her thigh, she just went straight to where she was most needy. Her little clit was so sensitive, so aroused already that she groaned as she first touched herself, driving her hips to meet her fingers in unrestrained hunger. Round and round she rubbed. Digging her heels into the mattress to force her hips higher, subconsciously striving up towards him, temping him. She stared at him—into his dark eyes and at the set of his jaw. The restraint in him was the polar opposite of the wanton abandonment in her. She half expected him to join in. To take over and dominate. Truthfully, that was what she was counting on because she wanted his hands on her. Now. She wanted to feel him—hot and powerful and pushed to passion. She wanted him to take her. But he didn’t. He just stayed right where he was. Statue still and so damn hot she was suddenly furious.
He was too good at watching. Too good at restraining his own impulses and desires and that wasn’t what she wanted anymore. She wanted him to do what he’d been promising to do every damn time he’d looked at her with those blazing eyes. She wanted him over her, in her, taking her as fast and as hard as she needed. She wanted all his power unleashed upon her. Physical and rough. Only now did she admit to herself how she’d imagined it so many times. He’d been the starring guy in her fantasies for months. And now she mentally willed him to come to her—to touch her. To help her. To fuck her.
But he didn’t.
Groaning in frustration, she rubbed more quickly. Her hips thrust faster as her fury rose. Her tension mounted and that delicious sensation in her stiff nipples began. She should have removed her bra, her tee, every damn thing. She should have reached out and touched him already.
“Hunter.” Roughly she called to him. “Hunter.” She arched—strung out as her body locked, suspended in that infinite, exquisite moment before her orgasm hit.
“Hunter!” she screamed and her eyes closed as she was lost to sensation.
* * *
“Do you often think of me?” His question was quiet. So damn direct.
“Always,” she muttered breathlessly, then groaned in horror. “I can’t believe I just admitted that.” She couldn’t believe she’d just done that.
Be brave.
She opened her eyes. He was right there, watching her still. And then he smiled. One of those rare, beautiful smiles. And she smiled back. Because suddenly she didn’t regret it—how could she regret the satisfaction coursing through her veins? She knew he’d enjoyed it. She felt better for it. More in control. She breathed out. Maybe she could control this. Maybe this was all that was needed. A couple of orgasms and she’d be over him.
“You use a very simple technique really.” Hunter said.
She blinked and sat up on her elbows. “You’re critiquing me?”
“Sure.” He unfastened his jeans. “I’d go so far as to say it was perfunctory. Swift.”
“Seriously?” Her jaw dropped.
“Uh huh.” He shoved down his knit boxers and his cock strained towards the ceiling.
He ran his hand up its length, not that he needed to draw her attention to it. She was fixated already.
“You don’t use a vibe?”
She cleared her throat, unable to concentrate fully on the question. “I didn’t have one here.”
“You’ve never had one,” he guessed confidently.
She sighed and admitted it. “No.”
“No fingers?” He shook his head and walked with that unashamed nudity to the bed. “I don’t see how it can be all that intense. I think you don’t know what intense is.”
She’d just done something so personal, so embarrassing, and he had that to say? “Well let’s see you then.”
“Don’t get defensive.” He cracked that sinful smile. “I think there’s hope for you.”
“Oh you do,” she said acidly, shifting away from him and standing up so she could watch.
He nodded. “You’re responsive. You get hot quick.”
Yeah well all she had to do was think about him and she was halfway there. Hell, she was halfway there again now, confronted with his impossibly fine form. She could hardly think enough to speak.
His smile flashed again. Sudden and mega-bright and flicked that switch on within her again despite her simmering indignation.
“Watch and learn Luisa.” He sat on the bed and then stretched out. “I can’t stay standing for this. Not this time.”
There was only going to be this time, right? Oh so wrong. She knew that already.
But that he was teasing her about something like this? That he thought he was such an expert?
“So this is some kind of kink version of a dance-off?” She growled at him.
“A wank-off?” he laughed. “Not everything has to be a competition you know. And definitely not a race. Not in this arena. There’s just practice and improvement.” He teased. “I don’t want to fight you. Don’t want to beat you in any way whatsoever.”
“No?” She wasn’t so sure about that. “Then show me what you do. You promised you would.”
“And I will.” He lazily ran his hands across his stomach.
Luisa froze at the sight of him stroking his skin. She’d known he was built, but this was insane. This was hours and hours in a gym every day. And seeing him so comfortable was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
“You don’t have a real job do you?” she asked dryly. “Because you’re always working out.”
He had to, to get a body that built. Every muscle was honed—not to extreme bulk, but to pure, refined strength.
“I’m not going to be as quick as you.” He stretched languorously, his eyes half closed as he surveyed her. His smile was mocking.
“Are you bragging?” she muttered coldly.
She didn’t think she could stay standing for this, but she couldn’t move.
“You’re not going to give me a visual?” he muttered idly. “I gave you a visual.”
That he had—his bared chest. Gritting her teeth she lifted up her top and shrugged out of it, remaining only in her little black bra.
“Nice,” his gaze turned smoky. “I like the lace. I like seeing your tight little nipples poking through the satin.” He ran his hands down his arms, then down his chest. “I imagine you touching me. I ache for you to touch me everywhere.”
Oh god, he was a talker. She’d never have guessed. But he was telling her everything. Every impossible, personal desire. And every word was a torment.
“I want your hands in my hair. I want you spread, soft, hot,” he muttered. “I want you pulling my hips closer. I want you unable to lie still...”
She’d thought she’d slaked the ache that burned low in her belly, but now it was back. That slickness between her legs made her want to writhe.
“You touch me—skim fingers down my neck, over my chest. Your fingers are light. You kiss me.”
Kiss.<
br />
“Soft to start, warm… sweet.”
She realized with a slight shock that they hadn’t kissed at all. They’d just gone straight to this… His lips curved in that sexy, knowing smile. She wanted to kiss that smile from him—make him so hot he became solemn and determined to slake his lust in her.
“But then it’s not sweet.” His voice was like gravel now. “Its hungrier the more I taste of you. And then I can’t wait anymore. I’m so sick of waiting. I have to get inside you. And call me old-fashioned, but I just want over you. In you. I want a bed and comfort and all the time in the world.” The edge of aggression in his voice sharpened. “I want to push you apart.”
He rolled to his stomach. She stared open mouthed at his butt and the power in his muscular thighs. The thought of him pinning her, of him pushing her legs apart with his, opening her to his invasion, incinerated her. His butt was so damn fine. His thighs were strong, his muscles flexing as he rolled his hips. He turned his head so he kept his gaze on her as he rolled his hips in a sweeping, testing move. His hand was wedged beneath him and he was rubbing the length of his cock. He rose partly on his knees, his legs spread wide and she could see him palming his thick shaft. It was singularly the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.
“Your hair. Your laughter,” he groaned. “But then you can’t smile for sighing. You arch. Restless. You’re wet.” His hand gripped his cock hard. But it was the power in those poisoning hips that transfixed her. He was strong. He grunted as his thrusts increased in pace. She wanted to see everything from all angles.
But he held her eye contact. While she held her hands on her stomach to hold back from tumbling onto the bed and joining him.
“I need to hear you,” he ordered.
Instinctively she licked her lips. “Hunter—”
He groaned, bracing hard but his body jerked, thrusting forward that one last long time, his release spurting forth.
Luisa shivered, ready to go again. She’d never felt so hot in her life. She gazed at him in awe as he rolled to his side, his chest rose and fell rapidly, his skin glistening.
“That isn’t how it has to be by the way,” he said with another roughened groan. “I didn’t just give you a script. When it happens, it’ll just be how it is. Every time I imagine it differently.”
“Every time it’s as good?”
His eyebrows flickered.
“Every time it’s me?”
His glance speared her and his smile disappeared. “What do you think?”
A flow of seductive power trickled through her. “I think I’m hot.”
“I know you are darling.” He didn’t move. Didn’t reach out for her. “What do you want to do about it?”
“I’m going to touch myself again,” she whispered, her hand straying south already, slipping beneath the waistband of her skirt.
“You don’t want me to help?”
“Not yet.” She still wasn’t ready for that. “I need to do it now.”
His eyebrow flickered. “It’s that bad?”
She licked her lips. “Worse.”
“Then rest up so you can concentrate.” He patted the mattress next to him. He knew how weak her legs were, how badly they just wanted to slide apart.
She flopped onto the edge of the bed and lay back to concentrate on where she needed that touch.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispered beside her.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You ask too much.”
“Honesty shouldn’t be too much. Not in this,” he argued softly. “It’s only sex. Only desire. There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone. In seeking the pleasure you know you can get from them. I know how good you’ll make me feel. Now you know it too.”
“I don’t think I can express the kind of pleasure you might be able to give me,” she whispered. “I don’t think I dare admit it to myself.”
“You want me to help you? Want me to talk you through it?” he muttered, closer now. “You show and I’ll tell. Deal?”
She loved that raspy edge to his voice—as if it were rarely used. It was so erotic.
“Yes,” she groaned.
“You like relief?”
“Yes.”
“You want my hands on your thighs.”
She wasn’t one for talking dirty—but this wasn’t dirty. This was just real.
“Your hands and your mouth,” she muttered, her mouth was so dry she almost choked.
“My tongue?”
“Yes,” she groaned.
“What about my teeth?”
A wave of heat so blistering rolled over her and she moaned wordlessly.
“You want me to eat you?”
She closed her eyes at his enflaming commentary. She wanted that so badly.
“Can I stay beside you, or do you want me to stand again?” he gritted.
“Stay. But don’t touch.”
“Only talk. I get it.”
She licked her lips, hot but nervous.
“You want me to kiss you?” he asked softly.
She did. “Hard,” she confessed. “Lots. Long.” She ached for that. She licked her lips, eager to assuage their dry hunger.
“Do I take off your clothes?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“So I slip my hands underneath already?” His lips quirked.
She pulled her hand away from herself. He was right, she moved too quickly. She breathed out and slowly touched her breasts through her bra, feeling the tightness of her nipples as they poked hard against the satin, just as he’d said.
“I kiss your nipples, suck them into my mouth,” he said softly. “I want to make that silk wet enough for me to see through it.”
She groaned.
“I’m gonna have to suck one and tease the other with my fingers. Then I cup your breasts and push them together so I can swipe both nipples with one long lick. You’ve got a gorgeous rack.”
She wanted to close her eyes. But she wanted to keep looking into his. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him.
“Keep touching,” he said in that low voice. “Enjoy each moment.”
But she stirred, her hips lifting. She needed that release again. “I ache too much,” she muttered.
“It’ll get easier.”
She shook her head.
“I love that you don’t wear panties,” he muttered idly, distracting her. Tormenting her. “You should never wear them. You’re open and wet and hot. I can slide my hand beneath your skirt and tease you anytime.”
She couldn’t hold back anymore. She slid her hand to where she needed it most and rubbed her clit.
He was suddenly there—close to her on the bed, his tantalizing words whispering right in her ear. “Let me give you something to squeeze onto. A helping finger. That’s all.”
She drew in a suffering breath.
“It’ll be better with something to ride on,” he whispered wickedly. “Trust me.”
She stared into his eyes. She did trust him. She didn’t trust herself. “Yes.”
Gently he slid his hand up the inside of her leg.
“Oh yes,” she breathed. “Yes. Yes.” She shook at that tiniest of touch from him and her hand fell away.
She heard his ragged breath as he skated the tips of his fingers higher.
“Luisa,” he muttered. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“Not as hot as you,” she moaned and let him take over. She fisted her hands into the linen coverings of the bed.
He laughed beneath his breath. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Please.”
He pressed his mouth on hers—open and hot and every bit as passionate as she’d ached for. So intimate. Finally she tasted him and felt his overwhelming masculinity, his truth. She’d known he’d be like this—all power, all pleasure. He growled in the back of his throat and deepened the kiss. His tongue swirled into her mouth—teasing, possessing. And then he slid a finger into her. She ground on him—so she was rig
ht on him. And he was right, it was better. It was so, so good. She groaned into his mouth.
He was strong and his rhythm was so good. Just what she needed. How did he know that? She arched again, aching for so much more. For everything. He fed her, forcefully fingering, until she was unable to move—she was locked on the edge, anchored on him. His tongue claimed ownership of her mouth, his fingers stroked her intimate space until finally she convulsed around him—holding him tight inside her. Her nipples were screaming. Her skin so sensitive it felt like she’d been flayed alive. She clamped on him, gasping as the waves of orgasm washed through her.
“Still going,” she tore her mouth from his and panted, her body crunched in the agony of ecstasy. “I’m still going.” She’d never been though the wringer like this.
He caught her mouth with his again, swirling his tongue into her in a luscious, teasing stroke. Then soothing—helping to bring her back down gently.
She twitched as aftershocks ravaged her, moaning a little as he lifted his mouth only an inch from hers. His fingers slipped from between her legs and he brushed her skirt down.
“I’m happy to do whatever it takes to get you off sweetheart,” he whispered. “And I’ll do it as many times as you like. You’re fucking delicious.”
Dear heavens. She was limp—every muscle useless, while her heart felt about to burst it was pounding so hard. As the intensity ebbed, the most delicious warmth rolled in.
“Better?” he asked.
She stared up at him. Better wasn’t the word. The supreme relaxation she felt now was like nothing she’d experienced in all her life. Tender warmth flowed through every vein.
But coldness slowly snaked in as her brain clicked back online. With only a few kisses, only a couple of fingers, he’d ruined her. He’d gotten inside her mind. Inside her most secret fantasies and switched them up—she feared she was never going to get him out of there. Even when she was alone, she’d now hear his voice. His promise. She was always going to ache for more. She ached for more now. Which was why this had to stop. Right here in this instant. He was too much. She’d known that from the moment she’d first set eyes on him. This was exactly why she’d run. He made her feel too much and that was dangerous. It only ended in hurt and she’d had way too much of that.
Broken for Me_Be for Me_Hunter Page 4
