I keep backtracking as he takes each determined step forward, and before long, I feel the cool wall greet the exposed flesh of my back through my dress. But he keeps coming. His eyes never once leave mine, and even when he's close enough to taste, he doesn't stop there. He presses the front of his body against mine, and I gasp at the feeling of his erection poking my stomach.
Calloused, large hands ball into fists beside my head, caging me in. He leans toward me, and my eyes fall to half-mast when Hunter runs his nose along the sensitive skin of my throat, inhaling deeply.
"Fuck, you smell good," he grunts, sounding almost pained. "Lavender and honeysuckle. My favorite."
I take my lips between my teeth, biting down, to keep from saying anything. His big body covers mine easily, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should push him away. But I can't make myself do anything, my body has officially turned against my mind.
He presses a kiss into the side of my neck, the feeling of his masculine lips along my corded, heated flesh making my head fall back against the wall in rapture. Hunter's lips and the way he uses them has always been my undoing.
When his teeth start nipping and biting my skin, I shudder against him, both hating and loving how he knows me so well. I wish I could help my reaction to him, that I would lock it away in a box and throw away the key, but I can't.
My body was a blank canvas when he and I first got together, and he's the one who caressed every brushstroke to fill it.
We're connected, he and I.
He drops another kiss on my neck, and then another, nipping and sucking the flesh into his mouth. The kiss in and of itself is innocent enough if we were in a different situation, and we were different people. What isn't innocent is the bulge in his pants, firmly pressing against my stomach. Knowing what he's packing underneath those jeans makes my mouth go dry with need.
It's been so long, but ...
"We can't," I breathe out, and a gasp of pleasure releases as he rewards me with a nip of his blunt teeth on my bare skin, and his hard grip along my hip.
I shift against him, hoping to put some space between us, but it's no use. He's as fused to me as I am to him, and I'm scared of what I might do if I touch too much of him.
Hunter has been my only weakness. Never once have I been tempted, but here he is tempting me like the devil made into an Adonis.
"I think it's time for Mav and me to go."
He shakes his head, his hold on my hip tightening. His rough, calloused hand slides down my outer thigh to the hem of my dress. The feel of his fingers ghosting along my skin causes my breath to shudder.
"I need you," he groans, grinding against me. "Not been alive ... since you left."
A whimper slips from between my lips when his fingers drag my dress up so achingly slow. I feel him growing harder, and my thighs clench together with the thought of how he'd feel after all this time.
The last time we were together, we were fumbling teenagers, but now, Hunter's all man, and I'm all woman. We've grown up in more ways than one, and as terrible as this is, I want to know just how well he grew.
But I know I can't. It would confuse things, and cross so many boundaries I've set in stone—the main one: never allowing Hunter to penetrate my armor again.
You've done crossed that one, Lo.
Hunter's lips move across my jawline, cheek, and chin with slow tenderness that has me reeling. When his lips barely skate across mine, it feels like my knees are going to give out on me. A guttural moan slices through the small room, and it isn't until his fingers slide my dress upward, making it hit mid-thigh and almost exposing me, that I properly compute where that sound came from.
Me.
A needy, desperate sound that, in many ways, portrays more than any words ever could.
"Tell me you want this," he breathes, roughly grinding himself against me.
With everything in me. "N-No," I stammer instantly, swallowing hard as my breathing turns choppy.
I feel his lips smile against mine. "Mm, I always loved doing that."
"Loved what?" I groan when his fingers tighten on my skin, becoming needy and desperate.
Taking me off guard, he roughly smashes his lips against mine. My eyes close of their own accord, small bursts of light going off behind my closed lids. His tongue immediately seeks admittance, and a little aroused and a lot shell shocked, I open for him easily.
“Proving you wrong,” he sexily purrs in a deep, lust-filled voice before kissing me even harder.
Breaking the kiss, he drags his lips across my cheek. His breathing is erratic, like mine, as if he can’t quite catch his breath, and he’s grasping at anything he can get. His heated breaths wisp across the shell of my ear, instantly causing my insides to clench. My mind wanders to undoubtedly all the things he can do with that mouth of his. The way his tongue can curl just so, causing my hips to undulate against his face.
Hunter was always terrific when giving oral, but I bet time has simply aged him gracefully like fine wine. So delicious.
I begin trembling from the thought. So many images flash through my mind, and I close my eyes in the hopes of catching them and keeping them for later. One, in particular, has me nearly succumbing to my knees from the erotic pleasure—him kneeling in front of me as he devours me whole.
A whimper escapes my parted lips. His tongue darts out, tracing the outline of my ear ever so slowly. I shiver at the contact, and my need simply clouds all of my judgment as my hands reach out and grip his shirt in my tight fists instead of pushing him away.
“Will my little kitten purr if I pet her just right?” he seduces, his voice taking on a low rumble that has my breasts aching to be cupped and fondled.
My nipples tighten with the thought of his fingers, lavishing them with tender ministrations, rolling them before the pads. I get the image of his tongue wrapping around one taut tip. In my mind’s eye, I see him sucking it into his mouth, releasing a guttural moan of satisfaction as he rolls his tongue over the tip.
A sharp inhale forces its way through my tight throat. I feel his arms wrap around me, pulling me flush against him and away from the wall. I feel his hardened length between us jolt, and I bite back a whimper as pure unadulterated pleasure zips its way through my body like electricity.
I try to reply. I try so hard, but the constriction in my throat won’t allow me. But should I respond to something like that, even though I really, really want to? He was just in the room with Cassandra, and I feel like this is happening simply for the reason I heard them together like I'm privately pissing all over my territory or something.
Pathetic is the word for it, and I'm not one to base my actions on those of someone else. If he was with her, then clearly he's just here because he knows I know, right?
"What about Cass?" I can't help but ask once more.
He growls low in his throat, blazing out, "Fuck her. She can rot in the filth she's made for all I care."
That doesn't sound like what was happening before, and while it may make me look like a stalker or creeper, I can't keep my mouth shut on the subject.
"I heard both of you." His ministrations pause, like he's processing.
"Heard us where?" He stops to pull back and look at me, confusion clear in his different colored orbs.
My eyes flick between his. "In your room just a little ago. It's okay. I'm not mad."