Hunter thrusts open the door and I realize I didn’t even stop to lock it. He pauses at the threshold and lowers me to the floor. I miss his strong arms around me, making me feel small and precious. I threw my body away once, didn’t treasure it, and somehow Hunter makes me think there’s something valuable in me again. Like my body is worth fighting for. Like I’m worth fighting for.
He eyes me from under his brow, blue eyes penetrating under those dark eyebrows. He steps over the threshold and closes the door slowly behind him, never taking his gaze from me. I gulp, the sound loud in my ears. He takes a step forward and I meet that step. There’s no going back. As soon as our bodies touch, the tempest takes hold once more.
“Hunter,” I breathe as I twine my hands in his dark hair.
“I know, princess. I know what you need.” He cups my ass and kisses my neck. “I’m going to give it to you.”
Lifting me with ease and coaxing my legs around his hips, he carries me over to the couch. I spread kisses across his jawline, the sensation of his stubble against my tender skin enflaming my need. Desire kindles under my skin. He drops me down but before I can protest, he’s on top of me. With one hand propping him up, I can enjoy the heavy weight of him without being crushed. We wind up sprawled across the cushions, legs twined together, moving in a quick rhythm of desire.
His lips follow the arch of my neck and across my collarbone. Hunter licks and sucks my skin, occasionally nipping. I scrabble my nails over his back and rise to meet each kiss. As his mouth dips further down towards my breasts, I rise and one of his hands comes under my back to hold me to him like an offering.
And that’s what I’m doing. Offering myself to him—body and soul probably. He knows me. He’s seen my wounds and doesn’t care. The least I can do is give myself totally to him. Shifting further down so he’s resting on his knees, he urges my top up. Fingertips skim my stomach and ribs. I arch and arch as if I can feel more. Somehow these intimate touches aren’t enough. I don’t think I will be satisfied until we’re as close as two humans can get. I need Hunter inside me.
Both his hands force their way under my bra and enclose my breasts. The soothing coarseness of his palms on my sensitive skin makes me cry out. He stares down at me, a crease between his eyebrows. So serious.
“Jessie, you’re so beautiful. It’s insane how beautiful you are. Damn, if you could only see it.”
His words make my heart flutter. I’ve not been able to see myself as beautiful for a long time. My past has warped me. But I want to see it. “Show me. Just show me.”
“I’ll do my best, princess.”
He bends and puts his mouth to my stomach. I observe as he works his way up while his hands still manipulate my breasts, clever fingers rolling my nipples into even harder peaks. As his mouth reaches the bottom of my bra, he presses his hands beneath me and unhooks it. In a tangle of fabric, my top and bra are somehow removed and his warm hands come beneath me. He takes his time circling my breasts with his tongue, taunting me so that when his mouth comes over one nipple, it’s exquisite. Relief and a fresh rush of need ebbs through me. He turns his attention to my other nipple while I run my hands through his hair.
I make a noise of disappointment when he trails down to the waistband of my leather trousers and he chuckles against my skin. Laugher and sex. I didn’t think they could go together but now it seems they can. With Hunter I feel like laughing, crying, screaming, begging, and running through every human emotion possible. None of it seems wrong. Everything with Hunter feels so right.
I giggle as his lips tickle my hips and his fingers tug on the waistband. He kisses all the way along it, making me squirm in anticipation. The sound of the button unpopping and the zipper rasping sends thrills skittering down my spine. He rises up once more to drag my trousers and underwear down my legs in one go, leaving me totally bare to him.
I want to shield myself from his hungry gaze. I’m so utterly exposed in many ways. But I force myself to remain still and leave myself open to him. This is me. Who I am. And I want to be accepted for it. I’m sick of running from my past. Hunter makes me want to be brave and confront it.
“Holy fuck,” he mutters.
I can’t hold back the spluttered laugh. I don’t know what I was expecting but the look in his eyes—a kind of wide-eyed awe as if he’s won the lottery—combined with those words startles me. Warmth suffuses my chest.