Page 63 of Reclaim Me

When our mouths are aligned, I pause just to taste myself on his lips. His face is wet, every strand of his beard coated in my essence, and I laugh when, quick as a flash, he brings his hands up and grips either side of my face, holding me still so he can rub it all over me.

“You’re a menace,” I gasp, trying to wriggle out of his hold. It’s a half-hearted attempt because I actually don’t want to be anywhere but right here, in this moment with him. His eyes on my face, his hard body between my thighs. His dick, thick and erect and already trying to nudge its way inside me.

The moment turns serious all of a sudden as Hunter’s thumb brushes over my lips, parting them slightly on its way down my chin to my neck. Long fingers span the width of my throat, fingertips dance over my pulse, a silent question I can only answer by covering his left hand with one of my own and using my fingers to apply the pressure he’s afraid to. Heat flashes in his eyes, and I rock back onto his dick, needing to feel him inside me. He shakes his head, “Condom.”

“It’s fine?—”

“No, it’s not.” His tone leaves no space for argument, and for some stupid reason, it makes me want to cry. I know it’s not rational. I know this is our first time, and I don’t even know if things between us will go any further than this moment, than this night, but I want that closeness with him. I want everything with him, and his insistence on a condom makes me feel like he doesn’t want those things with me. “Hey,” he says softly, sitting up so we’re face to face. He drops a soft kiss on my lips. “I want everything you want, okay? But you’ve got a future to think about. You’ve got dreams to chase. I’m not going to be responsible for clipping your wings before you’ve even gotten a chance to fly.”

“You don’t know what I want,” I say, tears clogging my throat because, of course, he knows what I want. He’s my best friend. He’s my first love. He’s my Hunter.

“You want love, Sunshine. You want a house full of laughter. You want to fill up my house with babies that will run us ragged every day for the rest of our lives. You want a tree house in our tree and birthday parties out in the yard.”

The image he paints of my desires is intoxicating. Every word is a memory of a moment, of a life, we’ve yet to live together, and I can’t find a single, good reason why we can’t start living it right now.

Hunter kisses me again, a slow, burning kiss. “But you also want to dance. You want the stage and the lights and the applause. You want little girls who look like you to see you and know they can be living, breathing art, too.”

“Why can’t I have both?” I punctuate my question with a roll of my hips that has him hissing out a curse through his teeth.

“One day you will, Sunshine, but that only happens if we make smart decisions today.”

“Ughhh,” I groan, throwing my head back in exasperation. “Why do you have to make sense at a time like this?”

“One of us has to,” he says, grinning as he uses his free hand to lift the center console and fish out his wallet. I watch him remove the gold-foiled condom from the folded leather, entranced as he tears it open with his teeth and sheaths himself with just one hand. Once he’s satisfied that the condom is secure, he lays back and stares at me, shaking his head. “You’ve never been more beautiful.”

God, I love this man.

Reaching behind me, I grip his length and squeeze gently, just enough to make his pupils dilate and pull another gruff curse free from his throat. Then I lift up and guide him to my entrance, sucking in a breath when I feel the first thick inch of him breaching my walls.

Hunter’s fingers flex around my throat, applying pressure to the sides, but just enough to bring my attention to his face. “Go slow, okay? We’re not in a rush.”

I nod and swallow when his right hand goes to my hip, easing me down as his hips lift to meet me. “Okay.”

Hunter is a big man, so I wasn’t expecting his dick to be small. I mean, everything about the way he carries himself suggests that he’s got a fucking third leg, but knowing that hasn’t prepared me for his girth or length. We work slowly, so fucking slowly that I’m panting by the time we’ve made any real progress, but I still feel like I’m being split open in the best possible way. I glance down at us, and seeing the lips of my sex hugging his shaft makes my eyes roll into the back of my head.

“Oh my God,” I moan, lifting up slightly and coming back down to help him slide in further.

Hunter stills, his eyes trained on my face. “You okay?”

I nod, my vision blurry from tears and sweat and the delirium of passion. “I’m fine. I’m perfect.”

“Ready for more?”

“Yes,” I gasp, because more is all I’ve ever wanted from him.

When he strokes up into me the first time, breaking through that final bit of my body’s resistance, I scream. Not because it hurts but because it’s the most glorious moment of connection. A joining of bodies. A melding of our souls. Hunter feels it too; I can tell by the way his brows furrow, by the way, he bites his lip and looks at me like I’m some sort of goddess or witch.

I want to tell him that goddesses don’t get ensnared by their own magic and witches can’t be affected by their own spells, but I don’t. I just channel all my energy into meeting him thrust for thrust, smiling wickedly when his eyes go wide with surprise when I tell him to go harder, to be rougher, to give me more than he’s ever given anyone. He submits to my requests, fulfilling my every need even as he runs his own pleasure down, and when I come again, with my nails digging into the flesh of the hand still wrapped around my throat, he falls over the edge with me.

Panting, I collapse on his chest. My eyes fall shut as Hunter drops kisses on the top of my head, and I struggle to keep those three little words, alive and impatient on my tongue, at bay. I’ve already given so much of myself, already pressed to get us here, I don’t want to be the person to force us to the next step before we’re ready. But I feel it. I’ve felt it for so long, it feels blasphemous to hold them from him, especially after what we’ve just shared.

“Sunshine?” he says, running his fingers down my side.

“Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right? I wouldn’t have—we never would have done this if I didn’t love you. If I didn’t feel the same way about you that you feel about me.”

Tears spring to my eyes, slipping out from underneath my closed lids. I bite my lip, reminding myself that I promised I wouldn’t be the one to say it first, but I didn’t say anything about saying it back.

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