Page 132 of Hunt for You

Her jaw dropped and she groaned, so I clapped that hand over her mouth again, leaned over her, and began to pound.

“You’re mine,” I rasped into her ear as she threw her hands forward to brace on the seat in front of us and push back against me, which only took me deeper. “No other man… no doctor, no priest, no fuckingDomwill take you—you’re mine, Bridget,” I snarled hoarsely.

I felt her voice, muffled against my hand and knew she was affirming me.

The roar began to build in my chest, wanted to tear out of my throat, but I held it back.

“No one chooses for you, but me. No one gets a fucking say—”

She was talking again, and I gave in, releasing her mouth, clamping that hand over her shoulder to keep pulling her back against me as I thrust.

“Yessss,” she hissed, sucking in a breath. “It’s you… it’s only you.”

I felt her start to clench around me and the last shred of my control snapped. Grunting like an animal, I grasped for herbreast, clawing fingers into her skin and saw her head snap back, eyes closed and her cheeks pressed up in a smile.

I clapped that hand over her mouth again, just in time because she came like a freight train, her entire body bowing and shaking, riding me as I fell over that cliff just half a breath behind her.

The world disappeared. The entire fucking universe was reduced to the warm plump of her ass and the softness of her skin, the strawberry scent of her, and… then the phone started ringing and I cursed, because I was still coming. Still inside her, still—

The phone was ringing again and I couldn’t ignore it because I hadn’t been to work all week and now people wereworried.

Body still shaking with the throes of my dream, I rolled over, slapping a hand to the phone on my nightstand and blinking at the too-bright screen in the darkness because there were blackout curtains on the windows, before groaning and taking a deep breath to try to slow my heart before I accepted the call.

“Yeah?”

I listened, grimacing, rubbing a hand over my face as the real world came crashing back in and everything in my body got heavier… emptier because this wasn’t a dream. And I couldn’t just tell the world to fuck off so I could take her. And I couldn’t keep avoiding reality.

“Yeah, I hear you,” I said, my voice low and gravelly with sleep—or lack thereof. Bridget would have recognized me, talking like that. “I’m feeling a lot better. Set her up for eleven. I’ll need to catch up on some stuff, but… eleven should be fine.”

When I ended the call, I lay there in bed, sticky and ashamed. Then I closed my eyes and remembered, just for a moment, the feeling of her hands on my body, and her kiss—frantic and needy—and my heart thrilled and just like that, I was hard again.

She was a fucking drug.

And I was addicted.

And it was going to kill me.

I groaned as I threw the blankets back and made myself get out of bed. I was going to need a long workout this morning to get rid of this tension if I was going to have any shot at being able to focus today… on anything that wasn’t her.

42. It’s a Date

~ BRIDGET ~

Sunday I was as nervous as a cat in a waterpark. I spent the whole day deciding I wasn’t going to meet Sam and picking up my phone to text him, then throwing it onto the couch, or my bed, or shoving it back in my pocket and trying to forget.

I was so stressed, I got online to see if Cain had messaged—which, of course, he hadn’t—but there were three emails from Jeremy, so I had to spend an hour answering his questions about Ronald, and praying blessings on Val for telling him that he needed to come toVigoríon the slowest day, which was Tuesday.

By the time that was done, I needed to get in the shower.

I cut myself shaving twice, then swore at myself, because why the fuck was I shaving?

Then I’d remember that moment when Sam had caught my wrist so quickly, and the burning darkness in his eyes and I’d rememberwhyI was shaving andholy fuck I was just going to tell him not to come.

By the time my doorbell rang, I was a jittery mess.

I stood on the other side of the closed door without answering it for a full minute. He’d rung the doorbell twice by that time. I couldn’t make myself turn the knob to open it.

But then I heard a foot scuff on the other side and thought he was leaving, and my chest went tight and I couldn’t grab the handle fast enough.

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