Page 130 of Hunt for You

Smiling wide, I let myself slump against him, the back of my head resting on his shoulder, his hand in my hair, and his other hand…

Oh, fuck, yes, his other hand slid under the hem of my hoodie and up my stomach. The thrill that shot through me was so potent my stomach pulled in and his hand tensed on me as if he thought I was going to run. But when I relaxed again, he blew out a breath in a whoosh next to my ear.

Then he drew his hand so slowly up my stomach, only his fingertips drawing trails on my skin, but the tingling, fizzing pleasure was so intense I almost sobbed, almost grabbed his arm and pushed it higher, because he was moving so slowly.

But then, thank God, he finally got up there and those fingers dragged up the underside of my breast and I sucked in a breath.

I slid both of my hands back, trying to see if I could reach his jeans behind me, but he immediately tightened both arms around me, holding me so I couldn’t even budge.

“Cain, please, let me—” I whispered.

“Don’t. Move,” he growled.

“But, I need to kiss you again,” I whispered. “I’ll keep my eyes closed, and—”

“I said…don’t move.”

When I slumped again, he waited a moment, then both hands dropped to the hem of my sweatshirt and I almost fist-pumped when he started lifting it up, over my head. I didn’t care that I wasn’t wearing anything except a bra underneath. I didn’t care that if anyone in the theater looked over their shoulders they’d see me. All I cared about was lifting my arms so he could pull my hoodie off—and then I wanted to squeal because he flipped the hood open over my hair and eyes, then pulled the drawstrings tight behind my neck to keep it there. There were small gaps around my nose, but I couldn’t see anything in front of me.

“Cain—”

“Shhhh.”

He lifted me up then, urging me to put my feet down and turn around, and when I was facing him, standing between his knees, I heard a very low rumble in his chest as he pulled me back into his lap, facing him this time and finally I could touch him.

As he settled me into his lap, I had to feel my way up his chest, then his neck, my belly tingling with the sheer joy of having my hands on him, and then I found his face and that stupid mask. I pushed it back, off his head, and he grabbed it to pull it away.

So I cupped his jaw on both sides and pulled him into a kiss so desperate I was afraid I would eat his lips.

Cain whipped an arm around my back and pulled me hard against him, his other hand cupped over my head, keeping the hood over my eyes, but also directing my head, tipping it so he could take the kiss deeper.

And I wasso fucking madthat we were in a public theater, because my body was on fire. I didn’t just want him. I felt like I’d die without him. I sucked on his tongue and clawed my nails into his skin, and he didn’t flinch.

His arm at my back became a steel bar, pinning me to his chest. And I could feel him, hard under me. I wantedmore.

Pushing him back until his head thunked against the wall behind him, I tilted his chin up and devoured his mouth, whimpering with the sheer relief of having him back, rocking my hips when his one hand came down to cup my ass like he was going to spread me and take me—but I was still wearing my sweats and—

“Bridget…fuck.”

“Yes, please.”

It wasn’t a joke, and he knew it. With a low growl, he brought that hand around to find the underwire of my bra and slip under it, his calloused palms cupping my breast. I arched into the touch, gasping a little when he tweaked my nipple. Then the other hand left my head and came to my other breast; I ground against him, dry-humping him like a fucking high schooler, and I didn’t even care.

My breath was tearing in and out of my throat, but all I could think about was the sensations of his touch, his kiss, my head spinning with plans to get him out of here and into a dark closet orsomething,so that he wouldn’t torture me anymore. Still kissing him like a leech, I clawed my nails down his chest and abs, letting my fingers scrape against the lines of his muscles, panting as—holy shit—he slid one hand down into my sweats and found me there, slick and wanting, heated and needy.

I whimpered and ground against his hand, urging him on, pleading silently with him toplease keep going.And for amoment, it seemed like he would. He curled a finger inside me and I shuddered and almost came that easily.

I’d forgotten about touching him, I was just clutching his head and pulling him into me.

With his other hand he pulled down my bra and opened his mouth on my nipple, biting hard enough to make me gasp and throw my head back, and then everything happened too fast.

With my head back like that, those little gaps around my nose gave me a sliver to see him. But he had his head down and his mouth open on my breast, so all I could see was a shock of messy hair and his shoulders. I couldn’t even tell what color his hair was because the light from the screen turned the wall behind him a bright gray, but cast his face in the deep shadow of me.

He turned to the other breast and I caught the tiniest glimpse of a heavy brow and peak of his nose, but then he suckedhardand my eyes rolled back because the jolt of pleasure from his mouth working on my nipple jangled through me to meet the roar between my legs where he was touching me and I couldn’t focus on anything but wantingmore.

There was a crescendo in the music and Cain groaned my name as he gripped the back of my neck with one hand, then plunged a third finger into me with the other and sucked hard, dragging his teeth over my breast so the sizzling pleasure from both zinged through me to meet behind my navel and suddenly, with a rush, I was coming, shaking, gasping, biting back his name, swallowing sound as my body twitched and jerked, riding a wave of joy that stole everything but my smile…

And then, when that shock of bliss finally broke, I slumped forward, buried my face under his neck, pulled his hand out of my pants so I could reach him—but he was thick and full in his jeans, and there was no room between us. I tried to pop thebutton, but he grabbed for me, pulling my hands away, and we struggled for a moment.

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