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I nod.
He strokes me some more, bringing me close to climax again. I'm aching. “Hunter...”
And then he's taking himself in hand, pressing his head against my heat and gliding gently over my entrance. He rocks against me, sliding his head against my wetness until I'm desperate. Then his hands find mine, our fingers intertwine, and his wide, green eyes cling to mine.
“Baby.” I feel him, hard and hot against me. Then with a press of his lips on mine and a thrust of his hips, he pushes in. It stings—badly. I gasp. He's wincing, still pressing my hands against the mattress. His eyes close as he pushes once more, deep, and I'm impaled.
“Oh God.”
“Are you okay?”
He leans down for a trembling, open-mouthed kiss, and I can feel the vibration from the movement deep inside me. It makes me...want to move. “Oh...Hunter.”
It still hurts, but as I rock against him, just a little, it also feels really, really good. Like I might burst. I open my legs a little. Gently lift my hips to take in more of him. I'm rewarded by a strangled groan, and Hunter's forehead falls against my cheek.
“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight.”
He kisses my lips; our tongues stroke, and then he's pumping in and out. I'm moaning—loud, deep mews that spring from my mouth unbidden. As we find a rhythm, I begin to lose myself. This is not like other things we've done. This is...hypnotizing. We're rocking together, and I'm clinging to his shoulders and he's bowed over my chest. He drops a quick kiss on my mouth, gasping as he rocks in such a way that his shaft glides down my clit. It feels so good, I grab his ass. I want him all.
“Hunter,” I pant. I'm flying high, my eyes squeezed shut, raising my hips, scratching his back. “Hunter!”
“Libby.”
“Hunter!”
His thrusts come harder. My legs are boneless as I push against him. Heat blooms inside me, sweeping through my body like a tidal wave, and my eyes flip open. I can see his nipples tighten as I feel him stiffen. He groans. “Libby.” I think he shudders, but I don't know. I'm shivering, half sobbing and he's panting so hard. And then I'm aware of him pulling out, leaving me stinging and empty, but it's okay because he's pulling the covers over me, pressing his body against mine.
“Thank you,” he breathes.
“Oh my God.” I laugh. He grins, and I can see his hair is damp and sticking up. His eyes glow with deep warmth as they look into mine. “That was amazing,” I say.
He smooths the covers over me. “I hope it didn't hurt too much.”
“It was perfect.” He kisses my lips and then my hair, and then he's getting up.
“Hunter?”
“Just grabbing some food.” I watch him walk, in all his naked glory, to a small refrigerator that looks like a wooden chest. He returns with a big bottle of DeVille bottled water and a bowl of strawberries. He lies on his side and offers me the bottle.
I grin as I take a long swig. “This stuff's handy.”
“Never even have to leave my room.” He winks.
“Oh, I bet you keep this stuff in here for just you,” I tease.
“I do,” he says seriously, and I remember. He's had sex with mostly escorts—who wouldn't care if he provided good food afterward. He feeds me a strawberry, and I shut my eyes as I chew. I want to lie here forever.
“Will you shower with me?” he asks.
I lean my head against his chest. “I actually just remembered...Cross drove me, and he's probably waiting. He'll notice and I'd be embarrassed.” I flush. “I think I'm already going to be embarrassed.”
He toys with a strand of my hair. “Well you look beautiful. Can you stay here for a minute? Let me get a warm towel for you?”
I nod. “Thank you.”
I watch him disappear into the bathroom, and I think how different I feel from last time I was in this room. Abruptly, I wonder about Cross. There's a window to my right, and I can see out of it if I lean off the bed and peek between the wooden blinds. I sit up, feeling kind of woozy, but very sated.
As I turn to face the window, I see movement on the other side of the room. I freeze. The door leading from the hallway to the bedroom opens, and I find myself staring at one Michael Lockwood.
