Page 98 of The Mating Game
“Uh-huh,” I breathe.
“It’s going to feel so good when I knot you,” he promises, and the feel of him has my eyes rolling back. “You weremadefor me. You can take it, can’t you?”
“Oh.Oh.Yes.I can.” I’m babbling, not even sure if that’s true butwantingit all the same. My body seems to be on board for it, in any case. “Just like that.Please.”
I’ve read about “toe-curling orgasms” since the summer of my fifteenth year when I would hide downstairs at my grandmother’s and sneakily read her Harlequins. I’m well acquainted with the phrase; I simply thought it was a crock of shit until now.
But when that coil stops winding, when that pressure inside spills to give way to the all-over rush that seems to explode inside…my toesactuallycurl. Hell, if it weren’t for the way Hunter is holding on to me, keeping me pressed tightly against him, I suspect my entirebodywould curl. I shake and shiver and make noises that are probably going to haunt me later when I recall them—but I don’t think Hunter will notice anyway. Not with the way he practically shouts against my skin before biting down on my shoulder, shaking a little himself.
I’m so full of him that I can actuallyfeelit when he lets go, the pulsing warmth as he fills me seeming to last forever. I feel everything when it happens—when his knot swells to proportions that I’ve only felt with my hands—and the fullness nearly steals my breath as it thickens inside me. As it touches me in ways I’ve never dreamed of being touched. Like I’ve spent my entire life missing something and now I’m complete.
“Oh.”
“Does it hurt?”
I shake my head. “Feels good.”
“I don’t…I don’t smell your heat dissipating.”
“What?”
“Normally, after you…Well. Normally it starts to fade after.”
“What does that mean?”
He inhales deeply from my throat, sighing softly. “That it might not be over this time. This might be the real thing.”
“So I’m…?”
“Going into heat? It’s possible.”
“But you’ll…” There’s a sudden flash of fear at the unknown, but his arms around me keep it at bay somewhat. “You’ll help me, right?”
His fingers find my chin to tilt my face back so I can meet his eyes, his gaze intense and singular. “I’m not going anywhere.” He shifts his hips so that his knot tugs a little, and I whimper as sparks of pleasure flit through me. “I want you right here on my knot for as long as you need me.”
“Good,” I tell him with a relieved sigh. “That’s good.”
He places lazy, sporadic kisses against my neck that feel impulsive, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and lying in the afterglow of what we’ve just done might be one of the most singularly satisfying moments of my entire adult life. I couldn’t have known how complete I would feel with his knot swollen inside me, my back tucked against his front, fitting like I’mmeantto be there. Even if I feel so full that I might burst with it.
God, Ada wasn’t too far off with the splitting analogy.
That makes me laugh without being able to help it.
“Something funny again?”
I shake my head even though I’m grinning like an idiot. “I knew you wanted to kiss me.”
Hunter snorts as he nuzzles my hair, seeming to be in no hurry to pull out of me. “Give me a minute, and I’m going to do it again.”
“Wow, again? At your age? What if you mess up your whittling arm? Maybe we should—”
His hand at my chin and his mouth over mine don’t really leave room for jokes.
I absolutely forget what I was going to say anyway.
22
Hunter
