Still panting, he thrusts inside me, slowing down each time. When we’re both sated, his trembling body drops down onto mine, and I wrap my arms tightly around him.
As his cock spills out of me, he takes off the condom, ties a knot in it, and hurls it to the bin. Then he falls to my side, exhausted.
Turning my head, I look at him. His head rests on my pillow, my hair tickling his nose. He smells me, and then he smiles. I smile back. He is beautiful.
No words can express what I just felt.
All I know is that it was wonderful, and that it was more than I ever expected it to be.
I pull up the blanket, my body shivering from the coldness that suddenly washes over me. I’m naked in my own bed, and now that he’s no longer ravaging me I need something else to warm me up.
“Did I hurt you?” he suddenly whispers.
It takes me a while to answer. Not because he hurt me, but because I have no idea how I’m supposed to feel after something like this. I feel full, swollen, raw. It’s a little tingly, but that doesn’t bother me. I’m just delighted. I’m happy. I’m happy because of him.
“No,” I say, flashing a smile.
His lips curve up, too, and he presses his mouth against my temple, leaving a sweet, gentle kiss.
As he retreats, his hand snakes up my belly, curling around my waist and drawing me closer.
When I look at him, I feel so damn happy. There’s nothing else in the world that has ever made me feel this way.
I think I’m in love.
“I … I …” I stammer. I want to say it, but I’m afraid. What will he say if I do? Will he reject me? I don’t want this to end.
But I feel I need to say this. Hunter has given me the courage to follow my heart. My heart wants to speak up.
“I love you.”
There. I said it. It’s out now.
I couldn’t hold it back any longer. It’s the truth. He deserves to know. I want to let him feel it.
For a moment he just stares at me, his eyes half-mast, observing me. It’s as if the words take time to register in his brain. I’m patiently awaiting his answer to my confession, wriggling my toes against his.
And then his fingers tighten around my waist.
“You’re mine now,” he whispers.
And with those words, he leans forward and presses his lips firmly on mine.
Chapter 22
Love is a Difficult Thing
Rays of sunlight brighten the room. My eyes flutter open, sticky from the salt. I snatch my glasses off the nightstand so I can actually see something. When his beautiful face is the first thing I see, I’m filled with joy.
I’m also still a bit shaken by what happened last night. I can’t believe I actually had sex. It was amazing, and everything went by in a rush. It’s like I was on cloud nine or something.
And then it hits me: I’m no longer a virgin.
I wriggle my way under his arm, feeling suddenly very jittery. I don’t feel different. Nothing’s changed. The only thing that’s different is my feelings for him. They’re much more defined, clear as day. I love him, and I want to be with him for as long as I can.
He groans when I accidently wake him with my squirming. It’s such a small bed, so it was bound to happen.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
He slowly opens his eyes, which hide behind thick, dark lashes. He yawns, and my eyes follow the movement of his strong jaw. With his fingers he scrunches up the blanket, making grumbling noises. I smile at the sight of him. I can’t stop looking at him.
I’m proud. Not because I have him, but because he is so much more than he tells himself he is. He cares so much for everyone around him, loves them with all his heart, so much that he’d go through hell for them. He calls himself bad for me, but he’s made me feel stronger, vigilant, alive. I admire his devotion, adore his flaws, and the scars that mark his past and make him who he is. And I revel in his inner and outer beauty. The only thing he’s been is good for me.
“Hey beautiful,” he says softly, his voice still croaky.
I giggle and bump my thigh against his. “Wake up.”
He grunts, and the sound stirs the butterflies in my belly. “Why?”
“Shower.”
His hand slithers across my waist, and he pulls me closer to him, making humming noises. His groin presses against my side, and I can clearly feel his morning wood prodding my leg.
“Hmmm …” he groans.
I chuckle. “C’mon. I wanna shower. I feel dirty.”
“I like that …” he says.
I laugh, and shove him away. One of his eyebrows arches, and he throws the blanket off him. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”
A manly, loud roar comes from his mouth as he raises his arms. His muscles tighten and look strained as he stretches them to their limit. I gulp just looking at his taut, ripped body. We’re both still completely naked, and I don’t feel insecure about my body anymore.