He chuckled at her expression and ran his hand across his abs. “You like what you see?”
“I guess.” She blinked at that bulge again. “I’ll let you know when I see the rest.”
Her mouth watered and she bent her legs, sliding her feet up towards her butt. As she moved, her skirt slid up almost to her hips. She pushed her feet a little further apart, knowing he’d be able to see all the way under her skirt now. All the way to where she was hot and wet. It was so simple, but being secretly exposed in this way was such a turn on. Her hips lifted again as she squirmed at the sight of him. Her hands fisted at her sides as she held back. A series of urges ricocheted through her—she wanted to feast on his body and feel every ounce of pleasure her could offer her. She wanted to pull him down and have him fuck her right this second—to plunge deep and quick. She ached for his possession. Desire swept over her—so blunt, so basic—a primal, animalistic need. She needed to feel good. Needed it now. Needed him.
Suddenly she had no patience to play and delay what she hungered for so badly. She needed to come. The craving was ferocious—utterly consuming and out of control. She didn’t even bother sliding her hand up her thigh, she just went straight to where she was most needy. Her little clit was so sensitive, so aroused already that she groaned as she first touched herself, driving her hips to meet her fingers in unrestrained hunger. Round and round she rubbed. Digging her heels into the mattress to force her hips higher, subconsciously striving up towards him, temping him. She stared at him—into his dark eyes and at the set of his jaw. The restraint in him was the polar opposite of the wanton abandonment in her. She half expected him to join in. To take over and dominate. Truthfully, that was what she was counting on because she wanted his hands on her. Now. She wanted to feel him—hot and powerful and pushed to passion. She wanted him to take her. But he didn’t. He just stayed right where he was. Statue still and so damn hot she was suddenly furious.
He was too good at watching. Too good at restraining his own impulses and desires and that wasn’t what she wanted anymore. She wanted him to do what he’d been promising to do every damn time he’d looked at her with those blazing eyes. She wanted him over her, in her, taking her as fast and as hard as she needed. She wanted all his power unleashed upon her. Physical and rough. Only now did she admit to herself how she’d imagined it so many times. He’d been the starring guy in her fantasies for months. And now she mentally willed him to come to her—to touch her. To help her. To fuck her.
But he didn’t.
Groaning in frustration, she rubbed more quickly. Her hips thrust faster as her fury rose. Her tension mounted and that delicious sensation in her stiff nipples began. She should have removed her bra, her tee, every damn thing. She should have reached out and touched him already.
“Hunter.” Roughly she called to him. “Hunter.” She arched—strung out as her body locked, suspended in that infinite, exquisite moment before her orgasm hit.
“Hunter!” she screamed and her eyes closed as she was lost to sensation.
* * *
“Do you often think of me?” His question was quiet. So damn direct.
“Always,” she muttered breathlessly, then groaned in horror. “I can’t believe I just admitted that.” She couldn’t believe she’d just done that.
Be brave.
She opened her eyes. He was right there, watching her still. And then he smiled. One of those rare, beautiful smiles. And she smiled back. Because suddenly she didn’t regret it—how could she regret the satisfaction coursing through her veins? She knew he’d enjoyed it. She felt better for it. More in control. She breathed out. Maybe she could control this. Maybe this was all that was needed. A couple of orgasms and she’d be over him.
“You use a very simple technique really.” Hunter said.
She blinked and sat up on her elbows. “You’re critiquing me?”
“Sure.” He unfastened his jeans. “I’d go so far as to say it was perfunctory. Swift.”
“Seriously?” Her jaw dropped.
“Uh huh.” He shoved down his knit boxers and his cock strained towards the ceiling.
He ran his hand up its length, not that he needed to draw her attention to it. She was fixated already.
“You don’t use a vibe?”
She cleared her throat, unable to concentrate fully on the question. “I didn’t have one here.”
“You’ve never had one,” he guessed confidently.
She sighed and admitted it. “No.”
“No fingers?” He shook his head and walked with that unashamed nudity to the bed. “I don’t see how it can be all that intense. I think you don’t know what intense is.”
She’d just done something so personal, so embarrassing, and he had that to say? “Well let’s see you then.”
“Don’t get defensive.” He cracked that sinful smile. “I think there’s hope for you.”
“Oh you do,” she said acidly, shifting away from him and standing up so she could watch.
He nodded. “You’re responsive. You get hot quick.”
Yeah well all she had to do was think about him and she was halfway there. Hell, she was halfway there again now, confronted with his impossibly fine form. She could hardly think enough to speak.
His smile flashed again. Sudden and mega-bright and flicked that switch on within her again despite her simmering indignation.
“Watch and learn Luisa.” He sat on the bed and then stretched out. “I can’t stay standing for this. Not this time.”
There was only going to be this time, right? Oh so wrong. She knew that already.
But that he was teasing her about something like this? That he thought he was such an expert?
“So this is some kind of kink version of a dance-off?” She growled at him.
“A wank-off?” he laughed. “Not everything has to be a competition you know. And definitely not a race. Not in this arena. There’s just practice and improvement.” He teased. “I don’t want to fight you. Don’t want to beat you in any way whatsoever.”
“No?” She wasn’t so sure about that. “Then show me what you do. You promised you would.”
“And I will.” He lazily ran his hands across his stomach.
Luisa froze at the sight of him stroking his skin. She’d known he was built, but this was insane. This was hours and hours in a gym every day. And seeing him so comfortable was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
“You don’t have a real job do you?” she asked dryly. “Because you’re always working out.”
He had to, to get a body that built. Every muscle was honed—not to extreme bulk, but to pure, refined strength.
“I’m not going to be as quick as you.” He stretched languorously, his eyes half closed as he surveyed her. His smile was mocking.
“Are you bragging?” she muttered coldly.
She didn’t think she could stay standing for this, but she couldn’t move.
“You’re not going to give me a visual?” he muttered idly. “I gave you a visual.”
That he had—his bared chest. Gritting her teeth she lifted up her top and shrugged out of it, remaining only in her little black bra.
“Nice,” his gaze turned smoky. “I like the lace. I like seeing your tight little nipples poking through the satin.” He ran his hands down his arms, then down his chest. “I imagine you touching me. I ache for you to touch me everywhere.”
Oh god, he was a talker. She’d never have guessed. But he was telling her everything. Every impossible, personal desire. And every word was a torment.
“I want your hands in my hair. I want you spread, soft, hot,” he muttered. “I want you pulling my hips closer. I want you unable to lie still...”
She’d thought she’d slaked the ache that burned low in her belly, but now it was back. That slickness between her legs made her want to writhe.
“You touch me—skim fingers down my neck, over my chest. Your fingers are light. You kiss me.”
Kiss.
“Soft to start, warm… sweet.”
She realized with a slight shock that they hadn’t kissed at all. They’d just gone straight to this… His lips curved in that sexy, knowing smile. She wanted to kiss that smile from him—make him so hot he became solemn and determined to slake his lust in her.
“But then it’s not sweet.” His voice was like gravel now. “Its hungrier the more I taste of you. And then I can’t wait anymore. I’m so sick of waiting. I have to get inside you. And call me old-fashioned, but I just want over you. In you. I want a bed and comfort and all the time in the world.” The edge of aggression in his voice sharpened. “I want to push you apart.”
He rolled to his stomach. She stared open mouthed at his butt and the power in his muscular thighs. The thought of him pinning her, of him pushing her legs apart with his, opening her to his invasion, incinerated her. His butt was so damn fine. His thighs were strong, his muscles flexing as he rolled his hips. He turned his head so he kept his gaze on her as he rolled his hips in a sweeping, testing move. His hand was wedged beneath him and he was rubbing the length of his cock. He rose partly on his knees, his legs spread wide and she could see him palming his thick shaft. It was singularly the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.
“Your hair. Your laughter,” he groaned. “But then you can’t smile for sighing. You arch. Restless. You’re wet.” His hand gripped his cock hard. But it was the power in those poisoning hips that transfixed her. He was strong. He grunted as his thrusts increased in pace. She wanted to see everything from all angles.
But he held her eye contact. While she held her hands on her stomach to hold back from tumbling onto the bed and joining him.
“I need to hear you,” he ordered.
Instinctively she licked her lips. “Hunter—”
He groaned, bracing hard but his body jerked, thrusting forward that one last long time, his release spurting forth.
Luisa shivered, ready to go again. She’d never felt so hot in her life. She gazed at him in awe as he rolled to his side, his chest rose and fell rapidly, his skin glistening.
“That isn’t how it has to be by the way,” he said with another roughened groan. “I didn’t just give you a script. When it happens, it’ll just be how it is. Every time I imagine it differently.”
“Every time it’s as good?”
His eyebrows flickered.
“Every time it’s me?”
His glance speared her and his smile disappeared. “What do you think?”
A flow of seductive power trickled through her. “I think I’m hot.”