Page 126 of Gilded Locks
She did, pulling air into her lungs, air that tasted of orchids and sweat and sex. And, as she exhaled, he pressed forward. The burn was immediate, intense, stealing her breath. Her body fought the intrusion even as her mind screamed yes, yes, more.
“That’s it.” His voice was ragged now, control fracturing with each inch he gained. “Fuck, you feel incredible. So tight. So perfect. Moya.”
Inch by torturous inch, he filled her. The pain transformed into something else, something darker and sweeter that made her moan against the tree bark, the rough texture scraping her lips, her cheek. She felt split open, impaled, claimed in the most primal way possible.
When he was fully seated, they both stilled. Her pulse throbbed through every inch of her body. In her throat, her wrists, her core, around his cock buried so deep inside her she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. The humid air coated their joined bodies, making every movement slick, making her skin hypersensitive to every sensation.
“Say my name,” Hunter growled, his hips drawing back slowly before pressing forward again, establishing a rhythm that was both punishment and pleasure. “Make them jealous.”
“Hunter!” It tore from her throat, half scream, half prayer.
“Louder.” He slammed into her harder, his fingers working cruel magic between her thighs, rubbing her clit with just enough pressure to keep her on the edge.
“Hunter!” His name echoed off the glass walls, bounced through the tropical foliage, carried through the lodge like a declaration.
He pistoned into her with increasing urgency, each thrust driving her against the tree, the bark scraping her sensitized skin in a way that added to the overwhelming sensation. She could hear the wet sounds of their coupling, smell the musk of sex beyond the floral sweetness of the orchids, taste blood from her bitten lip and feel… God, she felt everything.
Her orgasm built like a tidal wave, pressure mounting at the base of her spine, in her core, throbbing between her thighs. When it finally crashed over her, she shattered, splintering into a thousand ruined pieces that might never come back together the same way.
“That’s it, come on my hand,” Hunter snarled, his control disintegrating. “Come while I fuck this tight little ass. Soak my fucking fingers.”
She did, her whole body convulsing with the force of it, clenching around him so hard he roared, an actual roar that echoed through the solarium like a bear claiming its territory. He followed her over the edge moments later, his release pouring into her, marking her from the inside out.
They collapsed against the tree, both trembling, their bodies slick with sweat and condensation, their breathing ragged and synchronized. Hunter’s weight pressed into her, grounding her, keeping her tethered to earth when she felt like she might float away.
She closed her eyes, saving her strength to catch her breath as he held her upright.
“How do you feel about hunts now?” he murmured against her hair, his voice rough as gravel but threaded with amusement.
She laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a moan when he shifted inside her. “It all depends on who’s chasing me, I suppose.”
He slapped her clit and she gasped, the sharp shock bordering on tight pleasure that nearly had her sliding over the edge again. “Greedy little fox.”
He pulled out slowly, his gentle care a complete contrast from the way he’d handled her moments ago, and she whimpered at the sudden emptiness that came in his absence. Turning her in his arms, he gathered her against his chest with surprising tenderness. His heart thundered against her cheek, proof that he’d been as affected as her.
The solarium door crashed open with enough force to rattle the glass walls.
Stone stood in the doorway, Ash behind him, both wearing expressions of dark amusement and barely restrained hunger. Their eyes tracked over Marigold’s disheveled form—her sweat-dampened hair, her flushed skin, the marks blooming on her shoulders and breasts, the way she wilted in Hunter’s arms.
“You couldn’t wait your turn?” Stone asked, but there was no real anger in his voice, only anticipation.
Hunter grinned, holding Marigold possessively against his chest like a prize he’d won. “To the best hunter goes the spoils.”
“She’s not spoiled yet.” Ash’s hazel eyes burned as they traced over her, his gaze lingering on every mark, every sign of what had just happened.
Marigold met his gaze, then Stone’s. Both men watched her with shameless hunger banked in their eyes. “Boys?” Her voice trembled as her racing heart tripped out of beat. She whimpered, unsure if she could take much more so soon.
Ash came to cup her face delicately. “You’re shaking.” He kissed her gently, his love pouring over her as Hunter held her in his arms.
“I’m cold.” She shivered, the sheen of sweat now chilling on her body despite the heat.
Stone stepped forward and pulled Marigold from Hunter’s arms. “I’ll warm you up.”
Knowing that there would be no deterring him now, she shut her eyes and rested against Stone’s hard chest as he hauled her out of the solarium, not stopping until they were shut inside his room with the door locked.
He dumped her onto the bed, and she curled into the fur blankets. “Are you upset?”
“No, but I’m not giving you a pass, either.” Stone was already shucking off his clothes.
