Page 280 of Hunger


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As he dips his head and his teeth begin to bite into the skin near my shoulder, the unexpected memory seizes me and panic sends my body into a frenzy.

I shake my head as his teeth sink into my flesh with a growl, feeling stupid tears stream down my face.

As a breath of panic flees from my throat, he stops instantly despite me not using the safe word, standing back up straight, his brow furrowed as his eyes come to zoom in on me. Our heartbeats rage against each other as my slippery breasts slide against his hard chest.

I hate these moments of panic.

I just need them to go away for good.

Just as I’m about to tell him to keep going, he presses me firmly into the wall, using his bent leg to hold me up. He reaches behind my neck, unclasping the collar and throwing it to the floor before fumbling at the belt tying my arms together, pulling the knot looser and looser until my arm is finally free.

I gently ease it back in front of me, gripping onto his shoulder as he unclips my ankles from each other with one hand, allowing my legs to fall either side of him. He raises me, shifting his weight so that he’s holding the underside of my ass.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks.

“No,” I reply swiftly. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He nods, tipping his forehead to mine, staring down at me as he fucks me, softer this time, his eyes not leaving my face until he drops his lips to mine. His tongue leaves his mouth and he licks the seam of my lips, groaning as I grip his shoulders tightly, breathing through the invasion into my sore pussy.

“Enough?” he asks.

I nod, wincing as he begins to thrusts more quickly, his eyes lifting to stare up at something out of the window behind me before peering back down at me, grimacing as he lets out wave after wave of rough growl, the sound desperate, his body seized by pleasure.

Finally, he exclaims loudly, pumping my insides full of his cum as he uses his hands to bounce me up and down his dick.

As he catches his breath, he whispers my name, almost as if not meaning to, grazing my jaw with his lips as he lifts me under the arms, and his cum slides out of me, dripping onto the hardwood between us.

We stay there for a while, unmoving, his head tipped to my shoulder, his arms wrapped around me, my hands holding onto him so tightly that it scares me… until he finally carries me away.

62

Indigo

My eyes flutter as I find myself awakening, increasingly conscious that I’m lying in Grey’s warm bed.

The memory of us lying next to each other after we fucked, his sinful eyes refusing to leave my face as he listened to me ramble away, as we eventually watched each other’s bodies grow listless, cradles me for a moment, and I shift, my arms stretching out along the mattress, feeling for the hard muscle of his body.

Only I feel nothing, opening my eyes to find myself alone in his bed. I stretch before sitting up, listening out for noise from the en-suite bathroom twenty feet away.

Its door is half ajar but the light is off and for some reason, the silence sends a chill down my spine.

I sit up, glancing through the gaps in the curtains that he closed before we went to sleep.

Deciding to save my shower until after I’ve had a cup of tea, I get to my feet, noticing that his room—all dark colors, lean angles and masculine accents—is now perfectly tidy. The robe that had been dropped onto the floor is gone, the belt he used to tie my hands and the collar and chains along with it.

Well, he certainly is tidy,I mutter to myself.

There never seems to be a hair out of place around here.

I wander around the room a little, realizing that it’s remarkably barren for a bedroom. I mean, he has his oil paintings and beautiful bespoke pieces of sturdy-looking furniture, but there are no bits of paper lying around, no pills, no lotions, cards, combs, nothing. It’s as if everything is placed inside drawers or in cupboards. It makes my place look like a bomb has gone off inside a thrift store. Or five bombs, more like.

It's as if a ghost lives here.

Or no one…

That eerie chill seeps up my spine again, causing my skin to prickle.

“Grey?”

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