Forty-Seven
Present
Skye
For many years, I had known Hunter to be a rough lover. All his emotions would come rushing to the surface. He was never able to contain himself. His rough touch was addictive. I loved the brutal way in which he took me, seeking his pleasure but never forgetting to please me in the process.
We learned each other’s bodies.
We took from each other in harsh and punishing ways.
No, Hunter had never been a gentle lover. Never once. Never even for a moment.
But he looks at me right now, and the coldness is gone. The Savage has been repressed, and surfacing is Hunter, but he’s not the Hunter I knew inside and out.
This Hunter is vulnerable and pained.
He is scarred and he is broken.
With gentleness I didn’t know he was capable of, he picks me up and stands. I don’t look toward the crowd of bodies, but I faintly see them scatter as he makes his way through.
He lays me down on a soft mattress, never once looking away from my eyes. His entire body covers me, his chest is pressed against mine. There isn’t an inch of me he isn’t touching, and I feel safe surrounded by him.
He stares intently into me, the look of awe and…love shining out of his glistening gaze.
“Skye,” he whispers, voice broken. “Do you trust me?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Look at me, and don’t stop. It’s just us.”
I don’t look away. I don’t even listen to the noises around us, especially when they draw near.
Hunter’s hand runs down my body, lingering along my bad leg. His eyes dance along the scar on my chin as he traces the scars on my thigh with so much gentleness, I want to sob. He kisses my chin softly, and then he brushes his lips along my mouth, tasting me like he has all the time in the world.
I barely move except to grip his back to me, like I’m anchoring his body to mine. My body breaks out in shakes, and my breaths come out in tremors as I kiss him back, feeling more tears blur my vision.
There is so much hurt—
He has hurt me indescribably, and the past is like a knife that keeps stabbing me in the heart. But the present is a balm to those wounds. His touch is a salve, and I fall straight into him.
He kisses me deeply, his tongue tangled with my own. He brings my legs around him, and I squeeze his hips to me, feeling his length between my bare sex. Kissing me hungrily, his mouth and tongue is everywhere, running down my throat, wrapped around my nipple, and then back up again. He does it with no urgency. He does it with so much tenderness, I feel like I’m floating.
He pulls back to look down at me, his lips swollen and red. He gently brushes his thumb along my cheek, running his gaze over my face with so much wonder. At the same time, he’s pushing his cock between my folds, gently prodding at my entrance as he watches me intently. On a shuddering breath, he whispers, “Can I fuck you, Skye?”
I feel like my chest has caved in. I hug him to me tightly, gripping his back, digging my nails into his skin with so much fierce possessiveness, I might scream.
He brushes my tears away all the while, looking as emotionally spent as I am.
“Hunt,” I whisper so quietly.
“Yeah,” he answers back. “I’m here, and I love you. I never stopped loving you. Tell me you never moved on.”
I try to catch my breath, and am on the verge of answering—
A loud boom sounds.
Hunter stiffens and looks over his shoulder.