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Just when I thought I was going to have to abandon dignity and beg, he slid his hand behind my head and brought his mouth down on mine.
This tim
e there was less of the uncontrolled crazy and more of the deliberate. His kiss was slow, sure and insanely sexy, A strange weakness spread through me, the craving instant and total. If any man knew how to kiss, it was Hunter. I moaned and parted my lips against his, inviting more, offering more. Heat uncoiled deep inside me and spread through my body. My limbs felt shaky and useless. His grip on my face tightened, I felt the erotic slide of his tongue against mine and I lifted my hands to his arms, resting my hands on his rock-hard biceps.
I’d never been with a guy as strong as Hunter. Not that it should make a difference, because it’s not as if he used that strength when we were having sex. On the contrary, he controlled it ruthlessly, held himself in check, but there was something about knowing he was doing that that was deeply sexy. He was all man, from the top of his glossy hair to the soles of his bare feet.
He curved an arm round my back, holding me firmly, and the other slid to my breast.
I wasn’t wearing a bra, because frankly, there wasn’t much point. The rough pads of his fingers grazed my nipple and sensation shot through me. Just a touch, a simple touch, and yet already I was desperate. The pleasure was dark and exciting, the intensity just a little scary.
He kept his mouth on mine, explored my mouth with ruthless control, but I could feel that control slipping. I could feel the change in him, feel the ravenous hunger that made his kiss a little rougher, a little harder and I didn’t mind, because I felt the same way. Something happened when we were together. Something that, for me, had never happened with anyone else.
Without lifting his mouth from mine he dropped his hands to the counter either side of me, caging me. I could feel him through the thick fabric of his jeans, rock-hard and ready. I heard myself moan and slid my hands round his back and under his shirt. My hands made contact with sleek male skin and rippling muscle. I ground myself into him, heard him curse softly and then he was lifting me off the counter and unzipping my jeans. It took a couple of attempts because his hands weren’t quite steady and my jeans were glued to me but somehow that made it all the more exciting. I sensed that he was right on the edge of control and I loved the fact it wasn’t just me who felt this way. And then I was naked, my jeans on the floor with the rest of my clothes, and he lifted me back onto the kitchen counter. I gasped as the cool surface touched my bare bottom. I was wondering what he had in mind when he straddled the stool in front of me. His eyes were dark, hooded and fixed on me. Holding my thighs apart with his hands, he finally broke eye contact and lowered his mouth to my inner thigh.
The contrast between the cold of the surface and the heat of his mouth made me moan. I felt his tongue trace the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh. Everything he did was full of explicit promise and my insides reached melting point in two seconds flat. I needed him inside me, right then, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to oblige. Instead he proceeded to torture me with pleasure. He explored every single part of me except that one place that was desperate for his touch.
‘Hunter...’ I moaned his name, thinking that I might have to kill him if he didn’t put me out of my misery soon.
His tongue trailed maddeningly close to that part of me and I tried to shift my hips but his hands clamped tight on my thighs, holding me trapped and still so that I was totally at his mercy.
‘Please—please...’ It was more of a moan than coherent speech but he must have got the message, because finally I felt his fingers part me, felt his tongue dip inside me, caressing with unerring accuracy and wicked skill until I was almost sobbing with the sheer overload of pleasure. I was so close, so close, my hunger for him wild and out of control, but he held me on the edge of it, refusing to give me what I needed.
Through the pounding of blood in my ears I heard the scrape of the stool on the tiled floor as he stood up, a crash as it fell, but neither of us took any notice. I don’t think we would have noticed if the roof had fallen in, because the only thing that mattered to us right there and then was what we were doing to each other.
His mouth was on mine and he was kissing me with raw, sensual demand. Finally he let go of my hips, but only so that he could pull a condom out of his pocket. I tried to help, but that simply slowed things down and I heard him curse softly as he gently pushed my fumbling fingers out of the way and dealt with it himself.
His mouth was still on mine and he sank his hands beneath me, hauled me off the counter so that my legs were wrapped around his waist and sank into me with a deep thrust. I dug my nails hard into the thick muscle of his shoulders. I’d forgotten how big he was and just for a moment I wondered how this was all going to work, but I was so wet, so ready for him, it was as if we’d been designed to fit perfectly together. My body tightened around his and he groaned deep in his throat, an earthy primal sound that told me everything I needed to know about the way he was feeling. And I was feeling the same way. I couldn’t breathe. I was drowning in sensation, knowing I’d never, ever felt like this before, not even the first time we were together.
He just stayed without moving and I could feel the thickness of him, the strength and power deep inside me. I rested my forehead against his and our eyes held. That connection was every bit as intimate as the merging of our bodies. I had no idea how he was managing to hold back, because I was ready to explode. I discovered that anticipation could be painful. That needing someone could drive me almost to screaming pitch. And then he withdrew and thrust deep again and after that, control ceased to exist for either of us. He filled me, drove into me, dominated me, until the world outside ceased to exist and the only thing that mattered was what we shared. His mouth was hot and skilled, each forceful thrust of his body sending me closer and closer to ecstasy. Sex between us had always been good but never, ever had it been like this. We climaxed together, the pleasure a relentless, overpowering rush that consumed us both and left us fighting for air.
Holy crap.
My arms were locked around his shoulders, now slick with sweat, and I felt the scrape of stubble as he dragged his mouth from mine and kissed my neck, his breathing rough and uneven.
I closed my eyes, trying to find my sense of balance.
A faint flicker of unease rippled beneath the soporific pleasure that followed the storm.
I’d told myself this was just sex. But there was no ‘just’ anything when I was with Hunter. Everything was intense and exaggerated and the whole lethal mix of the man and my feelings threatened more than my equilibrium.
I heard him inhale.
‘That was...’ He stopped midway through the sentence, only I knew in his case it was because he was struggling.
‘Yeah.’
‘How long since—?’
‘None of your business.’
I waited for him to say something but he didn’t. I waited for him to put me down, but he didn’t do that either. Instead he eased away from me, but only so that he could shift my position slightly and grab the champagne and glasses—with one hand. Don’t try this at home. Then he carried me out of the kitchen.
It was a bit caveman.
Still wrapped around him, I pressed my mouth to his face. ‘You Tarzan, me Jane.’
‘Hi, Jane. Want to get naked with me?’
