by Sosie Frost
Hunter’s groan should’ve been humiliating.
But his satisfaction thrilled me with a new desire.
I twisted against the couch and tensed against his hand. My wiggling hips bumped a little too hard against his face, and he jerked away, rubbing his accidentally bruised nose with a chuckle.
“I’ll take it you like that?” He teased.
Was he crazy?
Or was nearly breaking his nose against my pussy too subtle for him?
“I like it…” My words fluttered into an incoherent groan as he returned to my slit and allowed his tongue to dance within the softness.
He tested a very wanton spot. My entrance, where the desperate heat pulsed with frustration.
“Relax,” he whispered. “Enjoy this. Because I’m going to be eating you a lot. As often as possible—all day, all night, through tomorrow and the next day.”
He accompanied his promise with a deliciously twisty move which coiled my insides tight as a spring.
“You’re gonna be spoiled…” He spoke as if it were a threat. “Pampered. Ruined with fucking pleasure. You won’t be able to breathe or think or push me aside…” Hunter paused, pleased by how eagerly I nodded. “And that’s when I’ll take you.”
I swallowed hard. It did nothing to loosen the pressure building in me.
“I’m gonna make you mine, Déjà,” he whispered. “I’m gonna show you things you never thought possible. I’m gonna fuck you. Worship you. And when you can’t stand another minute of my cock, I’m gonna come so deep inside of you, you won’t know where you begin, I end, and how you ever survived before getting fucked by me.”
I didn’t have a chance to respond.
His mouth fit over my clit, and he lapped, sucked, and twirled it with a heavenly delight.
And then I was lost.
The heat of his mouth and the expertise of his tongue instantly flung me to the brink as Hunter devoured me whole. Top to bottom. In and out. Gripping my hips to thrust my body tighter against his lips.
Such intensity should’ve been impossible, but I panted his name with a wicked moan shadowed in luxurious agony.
This was so much better than my pathetic attempts to pleasure myself.
Sure, I could read a dirty book, fumble with my fingers, and imagine how those wistful heroines felt in the arms of their ragged highlander.
But my fantasies hadn’t come close to the real thing.
And I still couldn’t comprehend how perfectly he delighted me with his mouth, nibbling at my swollen nub.
It wasn’t fair. I was too inexperienced to understand the sensations, too lost within the amazement of his strength and skill. Hunter didn’t give me a moment’s peace to adjust or decipher those feelings.
My body rocked, tensed, and immediately set itself alight with a beautiful fire as his tongue zigged and zagged across my heat.
My mind blanked, and all my thoughts faded into a singularity of amazement.
Within moments, I glistened with sweat, and my hips bumped against his mouth with brazen need. But Hunter encouraged my every motion. His fingers dug tight against my thighs, and he held me still.
Suckling.
Licking.
Kissing.
One solid thrust of his tongue within me and it was over.
And everything changed.
The fireworks blossomed into unrelenting heat, sizzling me from the inside out. I arched, and the undulating crest of pleasure swelled.
I cried out his name.
And molten bliss shattered my soul.
The orgasm blinded me with absolute devotion, stripping me of my strength, willpower, and grounding me to the earth. But Hunter was there. Quiet. Perfect. He pulled himself from between my legs and hurried to hold me tight as my body cracked and ached with the intensity of his gift.
I panted in his arms as he kissed my neck, my cheek, my forehead.
I’d never imagined anything could feel so good.
Never imagined I’d ever find anyone I trusted as much as him to gift me that experience.
I must’ve been the luckiest woman in the world.
And yet…
Just as quickly as the bubbling ecstasy eased, another need built. Something new. Something which would take more than his expert tongue to sate.
I wanted him.
No. I needed him, needed this man to fill a void I hadn’t realized existed within me.
One moment of pleasure had been life changing, but I suddenly knew I was missing something more. My body writhed, clenching down on nothing. Pure emptiness.
The absence of him nearly wrenched me in two.
What would it feel like to come with him inside me?
And how much better would it be if he’d come too?
“How many days until you’re fertile?” His voice rasped the word.
The answer destroyed me. “Two. Two very long days.”
And yet, this inspired Hunter. He rested me against the couch and lowered himself once more. I gasped as he propped my legs over his shoulders and drew his attention to my puffy, slickened slit.
“At least I know how to pass the time…” His wicked smile foreshadowed a deliciously deviant day. “There’s still so much I need to do to ensure you’re comfortable before we take that next step. What do you say we get back to work?”
His mouth returned to my petals.
And I surrendered to the pleasure.
5
Hunter
A man had to come up for air sometime, if only to replenish his strength.
After two days of nonstop kissing, cuddling, licking, sucking, worshiping, and coveting, we’d finally reached the most pivotal time.
Dinner.
Followed closely by a night of life-changing sex.
If I made it that far.
I’d loved Déjà’s spaghetti carbonara, but some things were more important to a man that a belly full of pasta.
Like blue balls swollen with cum.
…That I hadn’t been able to release since arriving at her house.
This was a unique sort of torture I’d inflicted on my own damn self, but I wouldn’t have done it for any other woman.
If only I knew how to tell her.
I couldn’t take her to bed without her knowing that I wasn’t just doing…her…as a favor to her. And I hadn’t signed up to play baby daddy out of the goodness of my heart.
I wanted her—all of her, in every way.
So, if that meant we did this out of order, I’d deal. I’d do anything to ensure I kept her at my side, in my heart, in my bed.
Déjà worked in her robe, pushing the pink puffy sleeves above her elbows. As much as I loathed losing access to her curves, I recommended wearing at least the robe while she cooked—no sense scalding her divinely blessed body with boiling water.
Plus, my imagination worked overtime while I watched her whisk the eggs. I salivated over what awaited me beneath the robe.
Soft skin.
Delicate petals.
An insatiable vixen.
It was enough to drive a man insane.
She drained the pasta, remembering to keep a bit of the starchy water on hand for when she mixed the noodles with the bacon, oil, and eggs. She stared only at the food, and that’s when I knew something was wrong. Even though she’d turned the radio on, she wasn’t bobbing over the kitchen, making more of a mess than dinner while she danced.
She focused only on the pot in front of her.
I didn’t like that.
She’d gone quiet a few times over the past two days, but only because I’d stricken her speechless with pleasure.
Without my tongue buried in her sweet slit, she had no reason to be silent.
And with our night just beginning, I wouldn’t let her worry for long.
“Hey…” I stretched out at her little dinette table, unraveling my legs as best I could within the tiny nook of a dining area. “Do you remember prom night?”
Déjà peeked
over her shoulder. “Of course. They almost didn’t let us inside. You had to bribe the PE teacher.”
I smirked. “Good old Mr. Gorche. Always looked the other way for a twenty.”
“Mom still has our official photo hanging in the den, but I like the one we took at the pond after the party. Looked very romantic. Me and my fancy dress on the edge of the pier, you beside me in your…Metallica shirt.”
“I wasn’t supposed to be at that stupid dance,” I said. “Didn’t have a suit back then, don’t have a suit now.”
Déjà flipped around, brandishing a spatula covered in gooey carbonara.
“If you had just agreed to go with me when I asked you to take me weeks before the dance, you might’ve had time to rent something to wear.” She snuck a noodle from the bowl and tasted it. “Instead I had to ask Duke Barlow—and the only way he’d take me was if I promised to buy the tickets.”
“You know I don’t do dances.”
Déjà flashed her patented, genuinely ball-crushingly serene smile. “But you did it for me.”
And I’d do a hell of a lot more—if she’d let me.
“You did look beautiful,” I said. “That purple dress was perfect for you.”
She stuck her tongue out and corrected me. “It was lavender.”
“You did your hair and makeup all fancy. Wore those ridiculous heels.”
“Not only did you come to my rescue as my date, you had to carry me out at the end of the night.”
And I hadn’t minded in the slightest. “Would’ve been a crime to let a pretty girl like you end up blistered and sad.”
“To be fair…I was only sad at the beginning of the night—when Duke Barlow left me stranded and dateless.” She whisked her noodles a little too hard. “Do you know he never once apologized? Every time I see him in town, he practically bolts away with his tail between his legs. I finally pinned him down at the market and got the truth out of him—he said he thought someone else wanted to take me to prom. He wanted to stay out of his way. Can you believe that?”
I supposed having a child with a woman meant I needed to be truthful about certain elements of my past. The least I could’ve offered her was a resolution to what had been the greatest insult and mystery of her senior year.
“Yeah…about that…” I muttered.
I shifted in my chair. Never did fit in her kitchen, especially while awkwardly apologizing for events long passed. I squeezed out from behind the built-in table I’d crafted for her once she realized the pretty set she’d picked out from Pottery Barn couldn’t fit in the cottage. I hated to see her that crestfallen, so I’d constructed her a replica, albeit smaller and more functional. It’d work until I offered her the real surprise—I’d already purchased the actual set she’d wanted, and, once my new home had four walls and a roof up, I’d offer it all to her.
If she still wanted it.
If she’d still want me.
I paced the kitchen, fiddling with the photographs hanging between the beams of exposed timber. A good third of her pictures contained me as well.
Us in the sandbox at the playground when we were toddlers.
The first time I’d strapped roller blades on her.
…The one at the hospital where she got stitches after roller blading.
Prom. Graduation. Me visiting her at college, crammed into her dorm room with her roommates and the other dozen girls who had rushed to see Déjà’s cute friend.
The picture outside her bookshop with my arm wrapped around her, hammer in hand as I finished installing her Now Open banner.
Not sure why I worried so much about fitting into her future when I was everywhere in her past.
“The truth is…” I heaved a breath. “I talked to Duke before prom.”
Just to be careful, I removed the spaghetti spoon from her hand before revealing the rest.
Déjà narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, you talked to him?”
My sophomoric shrug hadn’t fooled her since I’d graduated. “I mean…I had a little chat with him. He was taking you to prom, and I didn’t want him to expect anything more than a few dances.”
“Like what?”
“I told him if he tried anything…I’d kick his ass so hard he’d be using the Widow Barlow’s cane to hobble around school.” The truth didn’t exactly set me free, but it sure pissed her off. “I thought he was making a move on you. I talked to him. He backed off.”
“Backed off?” Déjà groaned. “He dumped me on prom night! I put on pantyhose for that boy—did you really think I’d take them off for him too? Didn’t you trust me?”
“I trusted you. But hell if I was gonna trust him.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I just wanted to scare him. You were…are…so damned naïve, and I didn’t want him taking advantage of you. I was looking out for you.”
“By ruining my prom?”
“Hey, I stepped up. You called and asked me to go with you, and I did. Saved you from dealing with Duke Barlow that night. Hell, who knows? I might’ve saved you from some crazy relationship too.”
She huffed. “Oh, yeah. My hero. Duke’s only a millionaire now.”
I snorted. “What’s a couple extra pennies to a girl like you when I can offer so much more.” I tapped the table and gesturing to the plumbing under her sink. “I fixed the pipes, replastered the walls, built you furniture. I do good work for you—for free.” I grinned. “Plus, I am giving you a baby tonight.”
She pushed a bowl of pasta at my chest but pointed me to the table before I took a bite. I knew the rule. Food was for the table lest crumbs somehow found their way into her reading room and disrupt the fabric of space, time, and her imagination.
I sat the table, my fork poised above the noodles.
Déjà took the seat opposite me but forgot her bowl at the counter.
So.
Still nervous then?
She had no reason to fear anything that’d come from something so beautiful.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
Déjà flashed a fake smile and tightened her robe. “Nothing.”
I knew that nothing. It was something, and it was big.
And it was about us.
But I was the last man she ever needed to worry about. I’d take care of her, do anything for her, and give her whatever she thought she needed to make herself whole.
Even if she didn’t realize that missing piece was me.
I never pussyfooted around difficult conversations before. Bluntness didn’t make many friends, but honesty kept the ones I wanted close.
“What made you want a baby?” I asked.
Déjà picked at her tablecloth—stark white and embroidered by her own hand with vines and roses to match the jungle outside her cottage.
“Well…” She hesitated—most likely trying to fib. I saw through it. “I mean…with all this uncertainty in the world now—”
Who the hell did she think she was talking to? “That’s not it. Try again.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me the truth. Should be easy.” I pushed my bowl away, untouched. “You couldn’t have been planning this for very long. What the hell made you pull the trigger…and…by trigger…I mean my penis.”
“Of course.”
“So?”
“This wasn’t a spontaneous decision,” she said. “I’ve been considering it for a while.”
“But I showed up, and you figured…now’s my chance?”
She nibbled her lip, puffy and swollen from our ravenous kisses. “No…that’s not necessarily true. I’m glad you came when you did…unannounced and without knocking.”
“Come on. I’ve seen you in far more compromising positions now than just you masturbating in your bedroom.”
“Yes…well...” She abandoned her pasta as well. “Look, had you not shown up…I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
She grabbed her phone off the counter, pitching aside a soggy towel from her first att
empt at filling up the stock pot with water. She’d set the ground rules then and there—no petting her very slick and wanting kitty while she carried water, chopped vegetables, or cracked eggs. I agreed—preferring my messes sticky sweet and only between her legs.
Déjà handed me her phone, opened to an unsent text message.
Wondering if you want to hunker down at my place for the quarantine. I have a question to ask you.
“Well, that’s great.” I said. “But why were you gonna send it to Duke Barlow?”
“What?” Déjà panicked and scrambled for the phone. She read my name at the top of the message and smacked my shoulder. “Don’t do that to me.”
“First you beg me to do everything to you, now you get picky.”
“Hunter.”
I grinned. “Déjà.”
“You’re making this hard.”
“Try walking around like that for two days.”
“You’re terrible.”
But I’d made her smile.
“So…you planned to send that to me?” I asked. “Get me to come over here and drop the bombshell in my lap?”
“Is there a better way to broach the subject?” She tugged the curls falling before her face. “I’ve just…been thinking about settling down for a while now. For a couple months or more.”
“Why?”
“Well…” She glanced over her home. I followed her gaze over the silent, lonely corners. Didn’t have to say a damned thing. I realized it too. “Doesn’t it feel like something is missing?”
No use lying. “Every minute of every day.”
“Really?”
“But I know what I need.”
“Me too.” She drew her knees to her chest. “A baby.”
Maybe…but she’d overlooked something—someone—very important.
“Why didn’t you try to find a man first—someone to make the baby with?”
“I tried.” She sighed. “But no one fit with me. No one was like you.”
I loved to hear it.
Would’ve loved it more if she realized what those words actually meant.
“What makes me so special?” I asked.
Déjà smiled. “You’re you. You’re Hunter. You’re the kind of guy who will come to my house in the middle of the night and kill the scary spider in my bathroom. Just like you’re the sort of asshole who will chase off a girl’s prom date because he’s worried someone might take advantage of her.”
