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Sex, Not Love(63)

By:Vi Keeland


Hunter set me down on the bed and started to undress. First came the shirt. He lifted his hands behind his head and tugged, pulling it off in one fluid motion. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I was eye to eye with his happy trail—and boy, did it make me happy. Next came the pants. My eyes stayed glued to his hands as his fingers worked the button and zipper of his jeans. The sound of every metal tooth separating vibrated in the pit of my belly.

Hooking two thumbs into the sides, he pulled them down his thick thighs and stepped out, kicking them out of the way. When he stood back up, wearing only black boxer briefs, my mouth fell open. Hunter was packin’ an enormous bulge, the tip of which was peeking out from the top of his underwear band. Moisture glistening at the top of the crown mesmerized me.

“Fuck.” Hunter groaned. “You have no idea how bad I want to fist a handful of your hair and fuck that open mouth of yours.”

I looked up from under thick lashes. “What’s stopping you?”

He bent his head back and mumbled something to God before beginning to undress me. My body tingled from head to toe as he slipped off my sandals one at a time, dropping a kiss on the top of each foot before moving on to my jeans. He slid them down my body and rubbed his fingers appreciatively over the lace of my panties before taking those, too. When he removed my shirt and bra, I was too captivated by the way he was looking at me to even realize the last of my clothing had come off. His eyes darkened and dilated, eclipsing almost all of the baby blue with heated desire.

As he dropped to his knees, his voice was gruff. “Lie back. Spread for me, Natalia.”

I’d always wondered why he chose to call me Natalia, instead of Nat like everyone else. Yet the way my name rolled from his tongue at that moment made me grateful that he did. Nudging my knees open, he feathered tender kisses up the inside of my thighs. By the time he reached the apex of my center, my legs were shaking. After such a gentle climb up, I’d expected to feel a sweet kiss or the warmth of his tongue between my legs. But there was nothing gentle about the way Hunter dove in.

My back arched off the bed at the unexpected roughness and desperation of his touch. He lapped at my arousal, sucked hard on my clit, and buried his entire face in me. It was like he’d been starving and snapped when he took a taste of his first meal. The build inside of me was as fast and furious as Hunter’s appetite.

“Hunter.” My breath shook.

“Come on my tongue, baby.”

Oh God. “Hunter…” I moaned his name.

He responded by slipping two fingers inside while his mouth moved up to focus on my throbbing clit.

He pumped in and out a few times.

“Oh God.”

“Your cunt is so tight. I can’t wait to have you squeezing my cock.”

That was all it took. It didn’t matter that I normally hated that word. The desire in his strained voice made it sound sexy as hell, and it threw me over the edge. My orgasm crashed hard, pulling me under with a powerful wave that seemed to go on forever. Hunter’s relentless tongue never stopped working and fell into rhythmic unison with his pumping fingers to draw every last contraction from my body.

Even though I’d been lying on my back, exerting no energy, my body had a sheen of sweat, and I could barely breathe when he finally slowed.

“You good?” Hunter kissed the sensitive skin above my pubic bone.

“I’m…I don’t know what I am. My brain hasn’t started to function yet.”

He chuckled and climbed farther up my body, kissing just below my belly button. Then he lifted a knee up on the bed to get leverage and hoisted me from the edge all the way to the top, just missing the headboard. The girly, anti-feminist part of me that I hated to admit existed loved that he could hurl me around like I was a feather.

Hunter climbed over me, hovering above with his weight on his forearms on either side of me. “Will it bother you if I kiss you after that?”

No one had ever asked me that question. But Garrett had always gotten out of bed to brush his teeth afterward, and I’d done the same after oral sex, even though we’d never spoken about it.

“I’m not sure. Are you saying you’d rather not?”

Shifting his weight to one arm, he reached down between my legs and rubbed his fingers against my wetness. Going slow, almost as if he wanted to give me a chance to stop him as his hand neared my face, his fingers traced my lips, coating my mouth with my own juices. His eyes traced his fingers as if he was spellbound.

“Lick your lips,” he groaned.

The way he looked at me made me bold. Watching him watch me, I ran my tongue slowly from one end of my top lip to the other before bringing my tongue back into my mouth. I closed my eyes and sucked my own tongue, swallowing before opening again. Then I did the same thing to the bottom.