by Melody Grace
Hunter pulls back, leaving me gasping. His eyes are blazing and determined.
“No,” he growls, harsh. “You had it your way once. Now we play by my rules.”
He splays a hand against my bare chest and pushes me down again, so I’m laying beneath him, half-naked and panting.
My way? My mind races to figure out his cryptic comment, but then Hunter leans in and lowers his mouth to my breast, and every thought is obliterated from my mind.
Oh!
I close my eyes, falling into the pleasure as Hunter teases his way across my skin, licking and swirling at my tender flesh until my whole body is shaking with sensation. He covers every inch, but each time he nears my nipples, Hunter slides around them: dragging his tongue down my stomach, lapping in the hollow of my belly button, moving back up to whisper kisses along the curve of my breasts until I’m aching and restless, desperate to feel his mouth on me.
“Please,” I whimper, gasping.
Hunter’s mouth strays closer. I arch up against him, eager. His tongue swirls lightly around, but it’s not enough. I hear myself whimper, unable to put in words what I need but wanting it oh-so-desperately. He drags his tongue closer, the pressure so exquisite, hot and wet, and--
And then he’s gone.
My eyes snap open to find Hunter on his feet, a few paces away. “Do you trust me?” he asks, almost casually, walking to the edge of the stall.
I gasp for air, reeling. I’m half-naked and totally undone, panting here on the hay bale, and meanwhile Hunter is fully-dressed, still completely composed. “I…” I stutter, still caught up in the desire flooding my body; my blood simmering hot in my veins. “What are you…?”
He turns back. My heart skips a beat. He’s holding a leather bridle lead, flexing it between his hands.
“Do you trust me?” Hunter asks again. He moves closer, standing over me. Waiting.
Holy shit.
My mind races, blood pounding in my ears. I’ve never done anything like this before. Let some guy take control, completely? It’s the last thing on earth I’d ever try. But when I look at Hunter, all that fades away. His expression is hungry, and there’s something else there too: a fierce intensity that robs me of my breath and sends a light shiver of anticipation rolling straight between my thighs.
I nod. “I trust you,” I whisper.
A wicked smile spreads across Hunter’s face, and I wonder if I’ve made the right call. But it’s too late to take it back. Hunter grabs my wrists, binding them together and pulling them up over my head. He fastens them to the railing that runs around the inside of the stall, looping the leather through and securing it with a sharp yank. I test the resistance, expecting an easy give, but instead, the leather cuts sharply into my wrists.
Another surge of anticipation shudders through me. He’s not fucking around.
Hunter looks down at me. “What will I do with you?” he muses, settling back so he’s on his knees on either side of my hips. His gaze slips over me, and I shiver, my bare chest rising and falling with each of my labored breaths. My breasts are tight and aching, crying out for his touch, but Hunter takes his time. “I feel like it’s my birthday,” he adds, trailing his hand lightly across my skin. “And you’re my present, just waiting to be unwrapped.”
Hunter’s eyes burn with desire, locked on mine as his fingertips roam across my breasts, sending tiny cobwebs of pleasure shivering across my skin. I try to catch my breath, but it’s all too much. With him straddling me, my hands bound, I can’t move; I’m totally trapped below him, powerless to do anything but submit to the restless path of his hands as they tease and stroke across my whole torso, eyes locked on mine as he pushes me closer to the edge. It’s an erotic thrill I’ve never known before, to be so completely in someone’s power like this. I can’t stop him, I can’t do anything at all except feel each soft touch, whispering, infuriating, stoking the fire in my bloodstream with a slow, relentless rhythm until I’m panting with frustration; aching and wet, desperate for some kind of release.
Finally Hunter closes his thumb and forefinger around my nipple and squeezes, hard.
I cry out.
His eyes flare with passion. He closes his hand around my other breast, and squeezes again, rolling my nipples against his thumbs. Pleasure floods through me, thick and sweet. Oh God, yes. He dips his head, kissing down my neck as I writhe beneath him, until at last, his mouth closes over my breast and sucks, hard.
I lose my mind.
The pressure is sharp and sweet, and I moan, thrusting shamelessly against his mouth. Hunter rasps his tongue across my nipple, over and over, until I’m crying out from the exquisite ache, desire clawing at my body so deep I think I’ll die.
Hunter suddenly lifts his head. He yanks my buttons open and drags my skirt down over my thighs, tossing it aside as I lie there, breathless.
He pauses, a grin curling at his lips as he takes in the lacy design of my panties: hot pink and edged with ribbon trim. “Cute,” he says, dipping his head lower to send a whisper of hot breath across my stomach. I shudder. “I’ll be careful not to rip them.” He looks up, devilish. “Unless you want me to?”
I’m caught in his stare, my mind still nothing but a chaos of desire. He winks. “Next time.”
Hunter slips down, so he’s on his knees in front of me. He takes my thighs in both hands, and slowly eases them apart.
Oh God.
Hunter looks up again, as if sensing my anticipation. “That’s right,” he murmurs, pausing to drop a searing kiss on the inside of my thigh. “I’m going to touch you, and taste you.” His fingers find the edge of my panties, toying with the lace. “I’m going to do whatever the hell I want, and you…” His eyes meet mine, dark with desire.
“You can’t stop me.”
A moan slips from my mouth.
“Already, baby?” Hunter smirks. “I haven’t even gotten started.”
He lowers his mouth and dances his tongue across the narrow strip of lace. I gasp. The pressure is achingly light through the fabric, but it still sends a shiver of lust spiraling through me, settling deep in my core. My panties are slick against me, and I can feel the damp between my thighs, wet and ready for him.
Hunter loops his thumbs under the fabric, and eases it slowly down my hips. He drops kisses as he goes, inch by inch down my thighs, until my panties are gone and I’m totally naked, spread wide on the bale.
“Fuck,” I hear Hunter swear, and I look down to see him gazing at me, blue eyes clouded with desire. “You’re perfect, Brit. So fucking perfect.”
He settles back on the floor, lifting my legs over his shoulders and swirling kisses up the inside of my thighs; his stubble scratchy against the delicate skin. My breath comes fast. I’m waiting, strung out here, every nerve and sense in my body shivering to feel his touch. I think I might die if he doesn’t touch me soon.
And hell, I think I might die if he does.
Hunter pauses over me, barely an inch away. I can feel his breath, hot against me, in and out, in and out. It’s more than I can take.
“Please,” I gasp again, not caring how it sounds. But Hunter waits, his fingers digging deeper into my thighs, like he’s holding himself back. I try and buck towards his mouth, straining, but his grip is strong as steel on my body and my bindings are too tight. “Please,” I cry, shameless. Undone.
Still, he waits.
“Hunter,” I gasp. I’m arched towards him, desperate, every muscle tensed to its limit. My body aches, my eyes are pressed shut, the blackness enveloping me; my whole universe contracted to just the tender throb between my thighs and the flutter of his breath against me, taunting, relentless.
“You want me.” Hunter growls. It’s not a question.
“I want you,” I sob, panting.
“How much?” he demands.
“More than anything. God, Hunter, please!” My cry echoes in the empty stables, a desperate moan of pain.
In a single movement, he drags his tongue acr
oss my clit and slips two fingers deep inside of me.
I scream. The sensation is overwhelming: the gorgeous pressure of his tongue, the thick slide of his fingers, invading me. I cry his name, arching up into his mouth as he licks, ravenous, hard and fast, sending shockwaves of pleasure slamming through my body. Hunter’s grip on my hips doesn’t let up, and now I’m trying to pull away, it’s too much, the pleasure’s too intense, but he won’t stop, he won’t let me go, he just thrusts his fingers deep inside me, over and over, stretching me, filling me up, and all the while lapping at my clit with that relentless pressure, trapping me under his onslaught of ecstasy as the pleasure claws at me, rising, threatening to annihilate me completely.
I struggle against him, already mindless, but still clinging to a last distant thread of self-control. I need a moment, just a moment’s reprieve from this ecstasy, before I do the unthinkable and fall. You can’t let go, I tell myself, writhing, you can’t give in, but Hunter demands my total surrender, and he won’t be denied. He curls his fingers up inside me, stroking a new secret nub of pleasure, moving faster, plunging deeper. My body aches, screaming with pleasure, coiled tight and wanting, crying out for the end. Then he closes his lips around my clit and sucks.
I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me, devastating every last one of my senses. I fall, spiraling into the waves of pleasure, sobbing his name as the tide washes over me, again, and again, filling me up and emptying me out until I’m left gasping and ravaged on the stable floor.
Hunter drives me home. I’m in a daze, still reeling from the most intense orgasm of my life—and the overwhelming feelings now whirling through my body: shock and disbelief and desire and exhilaration, all tangled in a mass of confusion that I don’t even know how to process.
I can’t believe I just did that.
It comes rushing back to me in hot, guilty flashes: memories of me spread, naked, bound beneath him; the dark look of possession in his eyes; the desperate sound of my voice, begging him for more. It’s like it happened to someone else, some kind of out-of-body experience, because nothing I’ve ever done before has even come close to being so hot, so dirty.
So fucking good.
I feel my cheeks burn, and sneak a glance over at Hunter, shadowed in the headlights’ beam. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other draped out the open window; his eyes fixed to the dark road as if nothing’s happened.
I feel a twist of insecurity. How am I supposed to act with him now that he knows my deepest weakness? How can I even look him in the eyes again when he’s seen me, so desperate and undone? Did he like it, or—shit—was it some kind of test? My heart drops, as the realization takes shape in my mind. Maybe he never thought I’d go so far. Maybe he was just curious to see if my reputation was true.
Well you sure showed him. You’re just the trashy slut everyone in this town promised him you’d be.
By the time Hunter pulls into my driveway, the giddy afterglow of my orgasm is long gone, replaced with a bitter sting of disappointment and self-loathing.
Way to go, Brit. Screwing things up like you always do.
Hunter shuts off the engine. There’s silence.
“Thanks for the ride,” I clench my jaw and try to pull it together. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”
I open the door and scramble down before he has a chance to reply. I slam it behind me and stride towards the porch, biting back the sting of tears I’m shocked to feel welling in the back of my throat.
Why am I so stupid? I dig my nails into my palms in frustration. This was what I wanted, isn’t it? I was just pretending to buy into that whole ‘perfect date’ bullshit back at the fairground, after all. I always knew this was how it would end, with me back right where I started. Alone. Hell, at least this way I got a mind-blowing orgasm out of it, which is more than I usually walk away with.
I hurry up the steps and scramble for my keys, but I can’t find them in my purse. I hunt again, growing more self-conscious and nervy the longer I’m waiting here on the porch. I force myself not to turn around. I haven’t heard Hunter’s truck leave, and—
“Looking for these?” His voice comes from behind me, too close.
I startle, whirling around. Hunter is at the bottom of the steps, dangling my keys from his index finger. “They fell out of your pocket, back at the stables. But, you were kind of distracted…” His lips curl in a smile.
“Thanks.” I snatch for them, avoiding his eyes.
Hunter pulls them back, out of reach. “Not so fast,” he says. “Look at me, Brit.”
I keep my gaze fixed on the dusty floorboards. I should sweep, I tell myself. I should stop being such a slob, and try harder, and be better.
“Hey, Brit.” Hunter’s voice is soft. “Where’d you go?” He closes the distance between us and reaches to gently tilt my chin up, but I keep my eyes averted, looking everywhere but him. “What’s wrong?” Hunter asks.
“Nothing.” I try to pull away.
“Don’t lie to me.” Hunter cups my cheek, a touch so gentle, it sends a pang right through me. “Are you OK? Listen, about what happened tonight…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I can feel the emotions whirling, but I’d rather die than let him see I’m affected.
“Tough.” Hunter insists. “I’m not letting you run away again.”
“I’m not—”
“You practically bolted from a moving truck,” Hunter cuts me off.
“I’m tired.” I fold my arms. “Can I just have my keys?”
“Not until you look at me, Brit. I mean it, look at me.”
I do.
Hunter’s hair shines gold in the porch light, blue eyes clouded with concern. It’s almost more than I can take, to have him looking so gorgeous and perfect right now. I’m feeling scattered and undone, like what happened tonight shattered some hard, brittle part of me, and now everything’s just messy and raw and impossible to control.
“Hunter, please...” My voice twists, and I’m dangerously close to losing it now.
“Please what?” he replies, not moving. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.” I clench my jaw.
Hunter shakes his head. “Don’t push me away,” he says softly. “I thought we were past that.”
“Why?” I answer darkly. “Because I spread my legs and let you do whatever, like some cheap slut?”
Shock flashed across his face. “Why would you say that?”
I give a bitter laugh. “It’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? It’s what they all think. And I don’t exactly prove them wrong.”
Hunter takes my face in both his hands, looking at me straight on. Direct. “There’s nothing wrong with what you did tonight—what we did, together.” he tells me fiercely. “You blew my fucking mind, you were so hot. Unless…” his hands drop, uncertainty creeping into his expression. “Do you regret it? Did I push too far, is that what this is about?” he asks quickly. “Because Brit, I never meant to. I thought you were right there with me—”
“I was!” I exclaim. I can’t have him thinking even for a minute that he forced me somehow. “I wanted it too.”
Relief floods his expression, then a confused frown. “So what’s the problem?” he asks.
“There is none.” I shut down again. “We had a great time, it’s done, so you can go now.”
He pauses. “Is that what you want?”
No!
I swallow. “Yes.”
Hunter stares at me a moment, his expression unreadable. The sad ache in me twists, sharp and painful. This is it, I tell myself. His cue to leave. I brace myself, willing him just to go, and leave me. For this to be over.
Then he kisses me.
I freeze in his arms, confused. The kiss is soft, slow and tender, and heartbreakingly sweet, but before I can react, he draws back, and gently brushes hair from my eyes.
“You’re not
a slut,” he tells me, his voice low but even. “You’re not twisted, or trashy, or used up, or broken. I don’t know why you think it, and I could kill anyone who’s ever made you feel this way.”
My mouth drops open in shock, but Hunter’s not done. He tilts his head, resting his forehead against mine, so I can feel every word, the soft whisper of breath and the sweetness of his promises. “You’re perfect, Brit. Special, and rare. And maybe you can’t believe that, but I swear, I won’t stop until you see what I do. The most incredible girl I’ve ever met.”
Hunter kisses my forehead and then reaches past me, unlocking the door.
“You’re working tomorrow?” he asks.
I nod, wordless in disbelief.
“I’ll come by the bar and pick you up,” he says. “Sweet dreams.”
I watch in a daze as Hunter heads back to the truck. He starts the engine, then slowly reverses out of the drive, driving away until his headlights are swallowed up by the dark night.
My legs give way. I sink to the porch step.
You’re perfect.
He can’t mean it. I don’t know what kind of game he thinks he’s playing; or maybe it’s not a game, and he’s fooled himself into thinking I’m something I’m not. Either way, he’s wrong. I know it, deep inside, the way I’ve known it all my life.
There’s nothing perfect about me, nothing precious or rare.
He’s wrong. He has to be.
But as I sit, clutching the porch railing for dear life, something flickers inside me, just a spark of hope. I feel it, warming me, slipping into my bloodstream and chasing away the dark shadows of doubt and insecurity.
You’re perfect.
His words whisper in my ear, long after he’s gone, more seductive than any flirtation or dirty words. Nobody’s ever said that to me before. Not even close. Sure, I know that Emerson loves me, and would do anything for me, but it’s not the same. Nobody’s ever looked at me the way Hunter just did, as if I’m something bright and good. As if I’m worth something.
