Page 44 of Something Like Sunflowers

I’m bucking against his lap now, shifting my weight back and forth and wishing he’d fucking do something about the ache I just can’t seem to sate with rocking alone.

“Touch me.” I press the back of my head against his shoulder, whispering the command in his ear, breathy and lust filled. I hardly recognize the voice coming out of my mouth.

He groans, smirking at me dangerously, but then he complies, cupping my entire pussy and using two fingers to juice me like an orange, until I’m dripping all over his hand, grinding against it, and—oh my, oh God, I want every part of him.

Where did this Hunter even come from? The last time we were together, it was not like this. I mean, no man has ever been like this…this…skilled.

Nobody except the ones in books. That’s what he’s got. That thirst trap thing. That look in his eye that makes thousands of women subscribe and save. He’s a walking book boyfriend. And I am hopeless against that kind of power.

I grind against him harder, rubbing my ass along his erection and wishing we didn’t have these barriers between us, like clothing, and…well, an audience.

“Such a filthy little princess,” he whispers, kissing down my throat. He places both hands on my hips, guiding me with a rough grip. My pussy clenches because of his words. They’re dirty and so…

“Ooh,” I moan when he bites my ear, still rocking me along his shaft through his jeans like it’s high school all over again and we haven’t yet done things under the clothes.

“Only bad girls wear tiny skirts and dance all over assholes to make their boyfriends jealous, you know.”

He pinches my clit again, and the sting shoots through my center, settling over my swollen core and sending little ripples of pleasure shooting through me. I rock harder, and he lets out a groan of approval, tightening his hold on my sides, his fingers digging into my flesh in an almost bruising grip.

“That’s it, babygirl, rub that dripping little pussy on me. I want to walk out of here stained with your cum all over my jeans, so nobody ever questions whose girl you are again.”

Oh, my God, he’s filthy.

He runs his fingertips over my swollen center but doesn’t leave them there nearly long enough. I whine in protest, shoving my ass hard against his cock and grinding down.

“So fucking needy.” His lips press against my neck as he pinches my clit. I gasp and look around the table to make sure nobody saw, but he only seems pleased with that, chuckling when I clench my muscles in protest to his teasing.

I pull away, worry creeping in that I’m drawing too much attention when I see Robbie flick his eyes our way one too many times, but Hunter pulls me back against his chest, my arms pinned to my sides like I’m in a straitjacket, and it’s hot as fuck. I can’t lie. It’s rough and forceful, and nothing like what I imagined.

It’s better.

With his free hand, he spreads me open and pushes his two middle fingers inside of me, and it’s more than something. It’s everything. I clutch the table and steady myself as he pumps his fingers into me, spreading my juices, and evidence of my clear as fuck arousal, all over my pussy.

“Mmm, see what I mean, princess? So fucking wet down here.” He pinches my clit, twisting, playing. Taking his time. Hunter Isaac is the fucking king of thirst traps. He rubs circles around my sensitive bud of nerves, making me moan and buck against his hand, leaning my head back, and closing my eyes.

“Look at you, such a little tease. Letting me put my fingers inside of this tight little pussy in public. But I can’t fuck you, can I, babygirl?”

He winks, and yeah, that does it for me. For fucking sure it does. But it’s his words that send me over. This is all new territory for me and Hunter.

First of all, I thought I wouldn’t ever in my life meet a man who talked like that and didn’t exist in the pages of a book. And second of all, the last time I had sex with Hunter Isaac, we weren’t old enough to have preferences. We didn’t know about kinks.

So, then, how does he know all of mine?

“I like that,” I tell him in short breaths as he pinches my clit again. He does it faster, using my cum to coat his fingers so they’ll slide around as he squeezes. And suddenly, I’m turning my face to his neck, as I release a shudder into his ear and my orgasm takes over my body. I feel him tense beneath me, his teeth digging into my neck in a rough, bruising bite.

“Mine,” he grumbles into my neck. I’m not even sure if he’s aware he’s said it. And I really shouldn’t like how horny that makes me feel.

He kisses my neck, right over the bite he just branded me with.

Because that’s what he just did.

He marked me as his and then said mine.

We have a lot to unpack when we’re sober.

I straighten my skirt and slide off Hunter’s lap so he can… adjust. And just like that, we’re shifting back into place before anyone at the table even notices.

Maybe. I’m honestly not sure I’d care if they did.

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