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“Feet further apart, baby,” I coax and she immediately widens her stance, stretching the material of her satin panties.
My hand moves back to her pussy, poising one finger at her entrance. I watch her face as I push the digit inside, not stopping until the outside of her pussy prevents me from going any further. I pull it out, then shove two fingers inside.
“Oh God, Hunter,” she moans and her ministrations on my hand stop again. I flex my fingers to remind her to get back to work.
Daggers shoot from her eyes and the look only intensifies my need. I pump my fingers in and out of her and add a third finger. She’s so fucking tight, I have to force the digits inside.
Cat grabs a roll of gauze, quickly rolls it around my hand, and rips off a piece of medical tape with her teeth before securing the cloth.
She drops the tape in the sink, but before it has a chance to hit the porcelain bowl, I’m already up from the toilet. Grabbing her hips, I spin her to face the sink and bend to press her hands on the edge.
“Keep your hands there,” I demand huskily. “Don’t let go.”
My cock is out within seconds. With one hand gripping one of her ass cheeks and the other holding the root of my dick, I notch the head at her slick entrance. I slip just the tip inside, and fuck, I’m already on the verge of exploding. Keeping my eyes down, I slowly and steadily slide through the tight walls of her pussy. It’s hot as fuck to watch my cock disappear inside her.
Once I’m all the way in with my pelvis against her ass, I lift my head. My gaze clashes with Cat’s in the mirror. Her eyes look glazed, a red blush coats her cheeks, and her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth. Her expression is filled with intense pleasure, pure love, and absolute trust.
And by some miracle I’ll never understand, those emotions are directed at me.
ChapterEleven
Hunter
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” Cat says after I kiss the back of her head. I leave her in the bathroom to get dressed.
It’s the morning after I returned from looking for Whisper. Surprisingly, Cat didn’t have a nightmare last night. I expected her to because of the stress of me being gone most of the night. She slept like the dead, never moving an inch from the position we fell asleep in.
When I walk into the kitchen, I’m surprised to find Peggy and Jacob still here. Peggy is frying bacon and eggs at the stove, if my nose is correct. Jacob is sitting at the table reading a newspaper. Their appearance makes me laugh, because they look like a typical married couple from an old movie.
I never had this growing up. Every foster home I lived in had shitty parents who weren’t the loving type. I was with the Clark’s, the last foster family, for six months before “Daddy Clark”—yes, that’s what Mr. Clark required all the foster kids to call him—started looking at me leeringly. It was fucking gross, and I knew if I stayed, it wouldn’t be long before those looks turned into touches. At that point, I had grown into an angry kid and just wanted to be left alone because of all the shit I’d gone through in the system.
In the dead of night and with a hundred bucks stolen from Mrs. Clark’s purse, I left out my bedroom window.
“Morning, honey,” Peggy says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Breakfast should be ready soon. Grab a cup of coffee and take a seat.”
I walk over to the coffee pot and grab two mugs from the cabinet above it. “I really appreciate you staying with Cat,” I tell them. “I figured the two of you would be gone by now.”
As she takes the bacon from the frying pan, she replies, “You never have to thank us for staying with Cat. She’s our baby.” She dumps the eggs into a glass serving dish. “And we heard you come in late last night. I figured you’d appreciate waking up to some bacon and eggs.”
Peggy, always the caretaker.
“That’s nice of you. Thank you.” I pour coffee into both mugs and add the right amount of creamer and sugar. “And speaking of Cat, there’s—”
I’m cut off by the sweet, innocent voice of Presley. “Hey.”
Our eyes turn to the doorway to see the little girl standing there wearing a purple jumpsuit and pigtails. It takes Peggy and Jacob a second to recognize her, and while their expressions hold surprise for a moment, they both offer her a soft smile.
“Hey, Presley,” Peggy says, walking to her as she wipes her hands on the towel hanging over her shoulder. Taking the girl in her arms, she holds her tightly for a moment. She lets her go and takes a step back. “My, my, don’t you look pretty today?”
Presley beams at the compliment. “Thanks, Mrs. G.”
“Like I told you last time, there’s no need to call me Mrs. G. It’s Peggy.”
Presley giggles and flashes her dimples. “I’ll try to remember.”
Jacob and Peggy have been here a few times when Presley has visited. When Peggy first saw the little girl, she captured her heart. She claims it’s because she reminds her of Cat when she was a child. Even I can admit that Presley has something about her that draws people in. She brings out the protective instincts of everyone she meets.
“Hey there, Presley,” Jacob says, his newspaper now lying on the table before him. “We haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been hiding?”
