He eases back to flick the head with soft kitten licks, deliberate and reverent, like he’s worshipping me. A shiver rattles through me, my breath catching as I fight the urge to thrust into his mouth.
When I walked through his door minutes ago, he started stripping me before I’d even set my keys down. He made it very clear he wanted to be in charge tonight.
His tongue swirls along my length before he sinks down again, swallowing me to the base. His gaze locks on mine—dark, burning, smug with control.
“Hunter,” I groan, fisting his hair. “Need to fuck you.”
He hums around me, the vibration ricocheting through my body, my thighs trembling. My cock leaves the wet heat of his mouth, and he quickly replaces it with his fist, pumping me in a slow, torturous rhythm.
“Say please,” he drawls, head tilted with a cocky smirk on his lips.
I swallow hard. “Please.”
His thumb brushes over my slit, sliding through a bead of precome. I bite back a whimper, staring down at him in agony. He’s infuriatingly beautiful, kneeling in the golden glow of lamplight. His collarbones peek through the wide neck of his T-shirt, begging to be marked up by my teeth.
“Please,” I repeat, not caring how desperate I sound.
His smirk widens. “Good boy.”
Holy fuck. He’s going to ruin me.
Hunter tears open a condom, rolls it down my length, and shoves off his briefs. His erection juts beneath the hem of his shirt as he straddles my lap, hands braced on my shoulders.
“Wait,” I gasp, catching his wrist. “Let me prep you first.”
He shakes his head. “Already took care of it in the shower earlier.”
The mental image makes my cock twitch—Hunter’s fingers buried inside himself, stretching open just for me.
He sinks onto me inch by inch, teasingly slow, biting his lip as his body swallows me. His slick heat strangles my shaft, sending ripples of pleasure through me. When he bottoms out, he tugs on my curls, squeezing his thighs around me.
“So fucking tight,” I groan, teeth clenched. “You feel incredible.”
I clutch his ass, kneading the soft flesh as he begins to ride me—gently rocking back and forth, each swivel of his hips dragging me deeper inside.
“This ismylap andmycock,” he growls, grabbing my chin firmly. “Say it.”
“It’s yours. I’m all yours,” I choke out, and I mean it.
He gives a soft, content hum. “That’s right.”
He grinds on my lap harder, a wet spot spreading on his T-shirt as his cock drags against it. When he finds the angle he’s chasing, his pace falters, hips stuttering. His nails dig into my shoulders, sharp enough to sting.
“That’s it, pretty boy. Ride me,” I rasp, nipping at his earlobe.
He bounces on my cock faster, desperate and erratic, as sharp little gasps leak from his kiss-swollen lips. His head tips back with a broken moan. I mouth at his throat, sucking at the damp skin to taste him.
“Mmm—fuuuuuck,” he groans, trembling as he clenches around me.
I nibble his collarbone. “I’m so close.”
He glares down at me. “No. You don’t come until I do.”
Fucking hell. Bossy looks good on him.
I slide a hand under his shirt and grip his slick cock. He bucks into my palm, leaking for me.
“You’re dripping, Hunt. So fucking needy.”
