Page 37 of Art of the Hunt
And as he canted his head and delved his tongue into her mouth, she decided she was perfectly okay with that.
Slipping her hands under his T-shirt, she gently dragged her nails up and down his back. He groaned against her mouth, his cock swelling almost instantly.
This was going to be so much fun.
She dropped her hands to his ass, cupping it over his jeans, pulling him close so she could rub against him. One of his hands slapped down onto her ass, and she yelped as the mini-O hit her.
“Hunter,” she moaned, dragging her lips away so she could arch against him, hoping he’d get the hint and kiss his way down her neck to her aching breasts.
Instead, he nipped along her cheek to her tiny moon tattoo, kissing it gently before continuing on to her earlobe. He bit down until she cried out, and this orgasm was definitely not a small one.
He cupped her thighs and lifted her off her feet, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, eager to get her core as close to that bulge in his pants as she possibly could. If only he believed she was who she said she was, she’d snap her fingers and make their clothes disappear. Yes, the act of undressing her partner was seductive all on its own, but right now, she just wanted to get to the main course.
“Hurry. Wherever you’re taking me, let’s just get there.”
He released her earlobe and chuckled, the sound rumbling against her neck. “Oh no, I don’t think so. We’re going to take this slow. Painfully slowly.”
“It’s already far too slow. Are you planning to torture me?”
“In the best possible way.”
Another tremor racked her body. “I’m all yours,” she whispered.
“Good.” He lay her across the bed sideways and then stepped between her legs, forcing her to spread them wide to accommodate his body. Leaning over her, he grasped her shirt and pushed it up, over her head.
She lay there, her breasts exposed, the nipples pebbling under his admiring gaze.
“I want you,” he said simply, and it was so achingly sweet and yet hungry at the same time, until he added, “to obey me.”
“Huh?” She lifted herself up onto her elbows but fell back again as he moved closer and pressed his hands into the blanket on either side of her face.
“You refuse to do practically anything I say, which was annoying me at first but now is pretty cool. Well, tolerable. Maybe even respectable. Which makes the idea of you obeying my every command here, in the bedroom, with nothing but skin between us, hot as fuck.”
Oh gods, he wasn’t kidding. Her inner muscles clenched again. She licked her lips. “Yes. Tell me what to do.”
He groaned and pressed a hard kiss against her lips before pulling away and getting rid of his own shirt.
“How about the jeans too?” she suggested.
He waggled a finger in her face. “Uh-uh. I’m in charge, remember?”
Oh, she most certainly did. “But still—”
He grabbed her sweats and abruptly jerked them down to her ankles. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He stared at her, his gaze touching on her breasts, her belly, the juncture of her thighs, even running down her legs before he focused on slipping the pants over her feet and dropping them to the floor.
“You’re still—”
He stepped between her legs again, cupping her thighs and lifting them until her feet were perched on the side of the bed, and then he leaned over her and latched his mouth onto one of her nipples and suckled greedily. She threw her head back and moaned.
He bit down and then lapped at the slight tingle of pain until switching to the other breast and giving it an appropriate amount of attention. She writhed underneath him, her hands fisted in the blanket, her body so tightly strung it was like that magical bow he kept asking about.
With achingly slow speed, he chased kisses interspersed with nips and nibbles down her body, across her quivering belly, until he knelt on the carpet next to the bed, eye level with her soaking wet and hypersensitive lady bits. She let her legs fall apart and locked gazes with him as he lowered his face and gave her a lick that sent pleasure shooting through her body. She cried out and dropped her head against the comforter, but this was far too hot not to watch.
She shivered when he stroked a finger along her seam and then sucked it into his mouth. He spread her lips with both hands and thrust his tongue into her.
She completely understood the definition of heaven.
As if he could sense that she was on the verge of an utterly spectacular orgasm, he stopped, withdrew his tongue, and grabbed his shirt to wipe his mouth while she lay there panting like an animal in heat. Accurate, she supposed.
