“This dress is way too short,” he hisses in my ear before sliding his hands underneath and squeezing my ass. My butt cheeks might as well be bare, with that dental-floss thong between them.
“Short is bad?” I ask breathlessly.
“It is when you’ve got Conor Edwards’ hand on your thigh.”
“Jealous?”
“Yes.” No denial, just pure hunger in his dark eyes as he yanks the sweater dress up and over my head. He whips it aside, then steps back to admire my thong and skimpy bikini bra.
“Take the bra off,” he rasps. “Show me those tits.”
My fingers shake as they undo the front clasp. The bra flutters to the floor. Now I’m standing topless in front of him, my heart pounding.
He admires me for a moment. Then he licks his lips and moves close again, filling his palms with my aching breasts. When his thumbs sweep over my nipples, I whimper. They’re so hard they actually hurt.
“Your tits are perfect, Demi.”
I can’t speak. I’m too busy watching his face as he plays with my breasts. Each caress makes my heart beat even faster. I’m sure he feels the rapid thump-thump beneath his exploring hands. I almost weep when he stops, but then those rough hands travel lower to grip the thin strap at my waist. He shoves the thong down my legs. I’m naked now. Hunter’s still fully dressed.
He’s just staring at me, and the need burning in his eyes is too much. My core clenches tightly. “Do something,” I whisper.
“I shouldn’t,” he says gruffly, and yet he grabs his shirt by the collar and pulls it off.
His bare torso taunts me. Smooth golden flesh with a smatter of hair between his heavy pecs. Sculpted abs tapering into a trim waist. He has a treasure trail that disappears into the waistband of his black cargo pants and I want nothing more than to follow that trail with my tongue and see what it leads to.
I want to kiss his chest, drag my tongue over every ridge, every tight sinew. But I’m too scared to move. Scared that if I break the spell, he’ll put a stop to this.
Without a word, he undoes his pants and lets them drop on the floor. His belt buckle jangles when it hits the hardwood. Next, he tugs his white boxers down his muscular legs. His dick swings up, long and thick.
Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, saliva floods my mouth. “Oh my goodness. That thing’s been under there this entire time?”
He gives a choked laugh. “Yeah. A man’s cock is typically attached to his body.”
I can’t take my eyes off it. It’s a lot bigger than Nico’s.
Hunter takes a step closer, then another one. When our bodies are almost flush, his dick brushes against my stomach, leaving a streak of moisture near my belly button.
He looks down sheepishly. “Just realized something.”
“What is it?”
“I’m going to come the second you touch me.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re being hyperbolic.”
“Trust me, I’m not. I haven’t been with anyone since April.”
My lips twitch in humor. “So you’re saying I’m not going to enjoy this?”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all.” And before I can blink, he lifts me up in his arms.
My legs instinctively close around his hips, arms looping around his neck. He kisses me deeply as he stalks to the bed and lowers me onto the mattress. My head collides with a pillow. I blink again and suddenly his calloused hands are roaming my body. When he cups my pussy, a jolt of pleasure ricochets through me.
“Fuck.” Hunter moans against my neck and I wonder, is there any sound sexier than a man moaning? If there is, I can’t name it.
The hoarse sound is so frickin’ hot, and I can’t help but compare this encounter to any of my encounters with Nico, who was so quiet during sex that sometimes, if the room was pitch black, it felt like I was in the bed alone.
But Hunter makes noise. He whispers how sexy I am. Groans when his palm glides over my very wet core. Hisses when the tip of his finger slides inside to feel even more wetness. I love how vocal he is. I love the needy haze in his eyes as he raises himself up on his elbow and peers down at me.
“You’re so beautiful.” His lips find my breasts again, and one nipple is drawn into the hot, wet suction of his mouth.
I shiver. “Feels nice,” I murmur.
“That’s the goal.” He continues to suck my nipples until I’m gasping in pleasure.
It feels so ridiculously good, and I get impossibly wetter. By the time his muscular body shifts down the mattress so that his head is positioned between my legs, I almost apologize for how aroused I am. I’m pretty sure I left a wet spot on his bedspread. That’s fucking embarrassing, but he doesn’t seem to mind.