With the lace of her stocking hugging her thighs, her skirt pooled around her waist and her legs spread around me, she looks wanton. But she is anything but. Sydney packs poise, depth, sadness and burden under the layers of protective wrapping, and I need to unravel her. To find the woman she doesn’t show to the rest of the world.
“Look at you, beautiful, already all soaked for me. Let’s get you relaxed.”
The rip of the fabric tears through the air, joined by another yelp. “My underwear,” she protests half-heartedly.
“Redundant.”
I drag my fingers through her wetness and a strong sense of possessiveness grips me. She is mine. I didn’t lie when I told her I’ve never wanted a woman as much as her.
I may have believed it was the thrill of the chase. Right here, right now, it’s obvious that while she might be in a very vulnerable position, there is no doubt she has me under control. Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
The thought blankets me with unequivocal clarity. Overwhelming. Exhilarating. Scary.
I circle my thumb over her sensitive bud, luxuriating in the soft noises before I dive in and eat her luscious pussy.She does taste like a peach,is my last thought before instincts, desire, a mess of sensations and a burning ache take over.
Her hands in my hair. Her dilated pupils. Her wriggling and thrashing, finally letting go of her guard to seek the release. Her clenching muscles. She is divine.
“Hun-ter…plea-plea—”
“Do you want to come, beautiful?”
She grinds her hips, desperately seeking connection, moaning. I’m not an artist, but I want to paint her like this, to capture her essence that has the potential to make me her slave forever.
“Oh God,” she whimpers.
“I’d rather you use my name, beautiful. Come for me, Sydney.” I reach up and pinch her nipple. I need her naked, because the promise the soft fabric teases me with is too fucking urgent.
She clenches and goes rigid as my name on her lips carries loudly through the room. I continue ravishing that succulent wetness until her muscles slacken.
I kiss my way down her leg before I stand up, pick her up and carry her to the bedroom.
* * *
Sydney
Tiny waves of aftershock slice through my body as Hunter carries me to the bedroom. At least that’s what I think he is doing, because my ability to assess reality left me the minute his talented tongue touched me.
His muscles around me feel like the safest place in the world. He stops at the foot of the bed and doesn’t move, like he’s considering something.
“Hunter,” I whisper, my head buried in his neck. He smells like an ocean breeze and a sunny vineyard. And me. My heart somersaults in my chest. “Let’s not get it over with.”
He chuckles. “Good girl. Finally, you got it.”
“Are you going to put me down?”
A lazy smile curls his lips. “I’m deciding if we go to the shower or test the bed.”
I kiss his neck. Being in his arms like this doesn’t feel ridiculous. For all I care, he could carry me around all the time. “Is the order important?”
He squeezes me tighter. “Good thinking. Let’s get you fucked thoroughly on every surface here.”
My stomach clenches. Part of me is scandalized by his dirty talk. I’m not used to it. But his words free another part of me. One I didn’t know existed. That part is growing bolder under his guidance and luxuriates in his words.
He drops me to my feet so suddenly that I lose my balance, but his brawny arms are there to support me. Perhaps it would be safe to fall when I know he’d be there to catch me.
Hunter pulls me closer and before I realize it, my dress and bra are gone. His guttural growl vibrates through the air, sprouting goosebumps over my skin. My nerve endings are primed with a need so strong it feels like I may never relax again. Just a moment ago, I was shaking with an orgasm, and I’m at the edge once more. And the man hasn’t even touched me.
He stands, studying me—no, devouring me—with his intense gaze, grazing my skin inch by inch with hunger. A threat and a promise peer right through me via those glimmering silver eyes.