Page 39 of Hunter

The uncertainty that bit on his initial request evaporates with his explanation. My confidence soars. I push his hands down, then strut away from him, but I take five steps not three. On one foot, I glide around to face him, placing my hands on my hips but not before throwing a black curl off my shoulder. Hunter watches silently, and his mouth opens a fraction as his breathing deepens.

“I said three steps, wife,” he mocks in false anger, and I smile at him before walking away again. My route takes me in a circle around him. He stands in the center, close enough I can smell the familiar aftershave but far enough he can’t touch me. “Bella,” he growls. “Are you deliberately denying my request?” I stop and look him dead in the eye.

“Yes.”

“Stand still so I can admire you.”

“What if I don’t want to?” I tease. He takes a long step toward me, and I shimmy backwards in my heels, tottering a fraction out of his grasp. A playfulness begins as we pretend to dodge one another from side to side, him reaching for me but missing each time.

“Are you playing hard to get?” he asks with a sly smile.

“Very. Is that a problem?”

He shakes his head slowly, then leans against the nearest bedpost with his arms crossed.

“Not at all,” he says. “I do love a challenge. It makes winning all that much better.”

“So, now I’m a prize?” I whisper under my breath. The air thick with sex and hope as we play out our silly game.

“You always have been, Bella. The fucking top prize.” He looks at his watch, then back to me. “Run, wife, because I’m coming to catch you.”

Hunter lunges forward, and I squeal then take off as quick as possible in high heels. I dart around the other side of the bed. He follows, caging me in between the end of the bed and the wall. I look up over his shoulder, and his eyes follow my own. I take the opportunity of the short distraction to attempt to scramble over the bed. As I think I’ve evaded him, strong fingers wrap around my ankle, bringing me to a stop.

On my hands and knees, dressed only in barely-there lingerie, Hunter tugs at my leg, pulling me backward. When I don’t submit, he pulls harder. My knee gives way, and I fall face first onto the mattress in a fit of giggles.

“A wife shouldn’t run from her husband,” he says darkly. He grabs my second ankle and pulls again. My body slides over the sheets. As my ass reaches the edge, he flips me over so I’m left looking up at him with my legs open. “Don’t run from me, Bella. I am on my knees for you.”

“You told me to run!” I shriek, tickled by his idiocy.

“And will you always do as I tell you?” He raises his eyebrow and we both laugh. “Thought not. You are pure fire, Bella. And I fucking love it.”

Hungry eyes roam over my body as I lie below him, his pupils dilating in excitement like they would when presented with their favorite meal. Goosebumps scatter over my skin, each inch screaming to be touched by him. Calling for him to take hold.

“If at any time, Bella, you want me to stop.” I wave his words away, but he fixes me with a look. “I mean it. If we need to stop, you tell me.”

“You won’t hurt me, Hunter,” I repeat. “But I do have a question before we…” My sentence fades away, a heat coating my cheeks as I form the words I want to ask in my mouth. It perhaps isn’t the right time, but I want to know before I sleep with the man I promised myself I wouldn’t. The man I was betrothed to, but never truly had.

“Anything, I’ll tell you anything.” The words hold so much truth, it's breathtaking. He looks at me with clear, honest eyes. “I will do anything you say, Bella. Just ask.”

“You said there was no other women.” A wariness flits over his face. The topic was obviously not what he expected. “That can’t be true.”

“That isn’t a question. That’s a statement,” he chides. “But indeed, it is.”

“You expect me to believe you haven’t had sex since our wedding night?” He laughs out loud, and my heart sinks that I misunderstood. All his unspoken promises of me being the only one he ever wanted from that day vanishing in an instant. How could I be that stupid?

“I’ve had plenty of sex, Bella,” he says, and my mood plummets. There is an exaggerated pause, then his eyes narrow dangerously. “But that sex has only been with my own hand, and dreams of you.”

Caught in the pain of imagining him with someone else, I miss his explanation the first time. He watches me, unspeaking, waiting for my response.

“What did you say?”

“I said…” He speaks slowly, deliberately, so each word is clear. “The only sex I have had since our wedding has been solo and dreaming of you. Now, please close those pretty lips and let me fuck my wife. As you said, we can talk over breakfast.”

He drops to his knees between my legs, and I lie back, staring at the ceiling. His confirmation, that I refused to believe before, swirls in my mind. There has been no one else. All the tabloids and sham relationships were only that, a smokescreen hiding his broken heart. They disguised the fact that one of the city’s most powerful men was alone by choice.

The thong I’m wearing is dragged down my legs. It catches on my ankle, and I kick it to the side. Hunter’s hands slide under my thighs. He lifts my legs onto his shoulders before nuzzling at my bare crotch. He breathes deep, and a sound that can only be described as animalistic comes from him.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this, Bella? Waited to taste my wife.” I swallow as my pussy clenches with each word. “You are the exotic dish I’ve craved but never truly tasted. Tonight, that devastation will be rectified.”

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