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No man had ever put his mouth on me before. Sensations swamped my starving cells, making it difficult to breathe. But not in a panic attack sort of way. Was this what an orgasm felt like? I didn’t know, nor did I care, as long as he didn’t stop.
He ignored my silent plea, releasing my breast to tug my tank top over my head. But he didn’t take it off, opting to leave it tangled in my arms, the cool air drifting over my wet, heated skin. Hunter bent his head again, this time latching onto my other nipple. Just when I thought he was going to leave the first one aching, he released the hold he had on my wrists and rolled it between two of his fingers.
My body took on a life of its own, wiggling beneath him, trying to get closer. I was reaching for something, but I wasn’t sure what. Higher and higher I climbed, some imaginary goal just out of reach. He pulled back, taking away his mouth and his hands, moving down my stomach, and I wanted to cry out in frustration.
He tugged my sleep shorts down my legs and shouldered his way between them. My already pleasure-fogged brain checked out altogether the second his tongue lapped at my sex, his groan vibrating against my slick flesh. I’d died and gone to heaven.
“Your pussy tastes as sweet as it looks.”
His dirty words propelled me back into that space where I was climbing, reaching for that thing I couldn’t find before. I could almost touch it, whatever it was. It was right there for the taking. My hips bucked against his mouth, moving on their own, the arm he slung across my stomach keeping me grounded. His teeth scraped against a bundle of nerves I didn’t know I had, and all of a sudden I was flying, my mouth opening on a wordless scream.
It was the freest I’d ever felt in my life. I was no longer the broken girl who couldn’t get close enough to a man to receive pleasure. This was definitely it. The thing I’d heard about, but never experienced. The elusive big O. It was everything they said it was and more.
Hunter raised his head, his pale eyes piercing. “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”
If he could make me feel like that again, I was liable to say yes to anything he asked. A dangerous thing indeed, but at the moment I didn’t care. I would deal with the consequences later and eagerly nodded. It was by far the boldest move I’d ever made in my life.
“Next timeI want to hear you scream my name. I want every man in this place to know it was me who made you come.”
My cheeks flushed at his request, and he pinned me with his eyes as he spoke. “Remember, only good girls get to come.”
It was embarrassing how easily I caved, nodding my head again, this time in understanding. He bent his head, his tongue lapping at my already slick flesh, my hips bucking against his arm. The blunt tip of his finger circled my opening before pushing inside. He pumped in and out of me, slowly at first, using both his finger and his tongue in concert. Did being eager for a man make you a slut? If it did, then I was totally OK with being a big old slut.
His finger pumped in and out of me faster and faster as his lips closed around my bundle of nerves, sucking hard. It was as if Hunter could read my body and knew exactly what I needed, when I needed it. Off the cliff, I jumped. Soaring. Free.
His words echoed inside my brain as I screamed his name. Only good girls get to come. This feeling, an orgasm, the big O, whatever you wanted to call it, was worth the embarrassment of knowing someone might have heard me.
Hunter lifted his head, his face wet with my juices. He’d never looked more beautiful.
“Good girl. Now you’ll scream while you come on my cock.”
His words made me shiver. Holy balls! My body felt like a giant limp noodle, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to come again. Then a naughty little voice in my head reminded me I had a lot of making up to do.
But the second the tip of Hunter’s dick nudged against my entrance, I tensed up, conditioned to expect pain at the intrusion. He stopped, and I worried about what he was seeing with those intense eyes of his. Would this be over before it ever began?
“There was never any choice for you, mój aniol. You were mine the second I laid eyes on you. Mine to command, to protect, and to pleasure.”
His words sunk into me, cloaking me in warmth. Some women might find his brand of possession frightening, but if things were different, I’d take comfort in belonging to a man like Hunter.
He was dangerous, yes, but not to me. Not anymore. Not unless he figured out why I was here, and even then, I couldn’t say that I blamed him. How could I? He was protecting the club in the same way I was protecting my sister. If I had to kill in order to do that, I knew I would. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe, even destroying my only chance at happiness.
Someday he would hate me, and the thought of it made bile climb up my throat. But it wouldn’t be today, so I swallowed it down, ready to give Hunter what he needed. There was no going back, I knew that as surely as I knew my own name.
Hunter would have the power to destroy me after this. It had been stupid of me to think he couldn’t end me, metaphorically speaking, because there was nothing left to break. The last man didn’t finish the job, and somehow it seemed fitting that at least it would be a contract killer who took me down and not a weak man who preyed on a little girl’s love.
My head slowly bobbed up and down, acknowledging his words, giving him permission to use my body. I wanted to give him back the pleasure he’d given me.
The tendons in his neck bulged, his rough hands sliding along my calves and up my thighs. He lifted me, placing a leg over each of his shoulders, the desire in his eyes searing me. The head of his dick pushed inside, and he hissed, his chest expanding with each breath he took.
There was no pain, only a mild discomfort at my body being stretched to accommodate his girth. How could that be? He was so much larger than anything that had been inside me before.
“You’re taking me so beautifully, just like I knew you would.”
He stared down at the spot where we were joined, watching as he slid more of his dick inside me. Normally, I hated being the center of attention, and if you’d have told me a year ago that I’d welcome not only a man’s eyes on the most private part of me, but his dick, I’d have called you crazy. Maybe that meant he really had Harry Pottered me. It certainly felt that way.
My body adjusted to him, the pleasurable fullness sending ripples of sensation down my spine, and he wasn’t even halfway inside me yet. Was he even going to fit? When I looked up to gauge his reaction, his face was pinched, almost as if he were in pain.
“Fuck, you’re strangling my cock just right.”
