Vulnerable. Quiet. Sweet. There had always been a reason he’d called her sweetness.
The woman who stood in front of him now was vulnerable, yes, he could see it in her eyes. But there was also determination. And anger. And certainty. But not sweetness. Not this time.
She put out a hand, her palm on his chest, her touch like a lightning rod, conducting something hot and bright and burning straight through his body.
Hunter caught his breath, shocked at the touch. Shocked at his reaction to it. At the clean, white light that seemed to ignite in his bloodstream.
But like it had in his truck, seconds later blind instinct and fear kicked in.
One hand knocked hers away from him. The other went for her throat.
Ellie didn’t scream. Didn’t make a sound. It happened too fast for her to do either. One moment, she was doing her damndest to stop him leaving, the next he had her by the throat, pressed against the wall.
Her heart slammed against her chest, adrenaline flooding through her. And it took her a couple of moments to realise she wasn’t, in fact, scared. She was intensely excited.
Because his hold wasn’t choking. It was firm but gentle, his palm resting in the hollow of her throat, long fingers resting lightly on the side of her neck.
Hunter’s gaze held hers, as if he was looking for something. Searching for it. He stood close. Close enough for her to smell the spicy scent of the soap he’d used in the shower, the warm leather of his jacket. Close enough to feel him towering over her. Big and strong, the way he’d always done when she’d been a child.
Perhaps that was why she didn’t feel scared. His height and his power had always made her feel safe, never threatened. And she didn’t feel threatened now. Only…aroused.
Oh Jesus, so completely turned on.
“Didn’t I tell you not to touch me, Ellie?” The words were soft and yet the undercurrent of threat in his voice stroked along her nerve endings like a velvet whip.
Don’t fucking touch me…
She tried to swallow. Failed. Tried to breathe. Failed at that too.
“I can’t have you touching.” His thumb moved against the side of her neck, a soft, gentle stroke. “Understand, sweetheart? Not again.”
Ellie barely heard him. Every cell of her body seemed to be concentrated on his hand. Where it rested. The skin beneath it. He was touching her. Finally, after years and years, he was touching her. The way she’d wanted to be. The way she’d longed for.
A sexual, very dominant touch.
And she was so aroused she could barely speak.
“W-why?” Ellie managed at last. “I want to touch you.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Stop asking questions, sweetness.” His thumb moved again and she shuddered, unable to help herself, every single inch of skin painfully aware of him. Of how close he stood. Of his warmth.
“Hunter…” His name was a raw plea she couldn’t keep inside any longer. “Please. Oh…please…” She’d beg. She had no shame when it came to him. None at all.
His gaze remained on hers, black as midnight, a dark flame burning there. The same flame she’d seen in his truck, the night she’d touched him. He said nothing, only looked at her, his thumb moving on the side of her neck, a lazy, stroking movement that sent chills up and down her spine.
“Please what?” he murmured after what seemed like forever.
“T-touch me.”
Again, he merely looked at her, his thumb still caressing.
God, how many times could she say it? How many times could she beg?
“Please…please…” Her breathing was fast and she couldn’t slow it. “I want you to.”
He searched her face. “And what else do you want, Ellie?”
“Anything.” She’d begun to shake because he’d somehow got even closer. So they were inches apart. All she wanted to do was melt against him. Lose herself in him. “Anything you want to give me.”
The expression on his perfectly carved features sharpened, became intent and hungry. It made him seem unfamiliar, not the Hunter she knew but a different man. A dangerous man. God, why was that thought so exciting? A thousand promises flooded her mouth. Take me. This once. We don’t ever need to speak of this again. I promise. I’ll be good. I only want you to touch me. I’ve been wanting it my whole life. Please, Hunter, please.
His thumb stopped moving and she thought for one terrible, ghastly minute he was going to let her go and walk away. The thought made her want to weep. But he didn’t. Instead he moved even closer, still holding her against the wall so they were almost touching. Ellie tipped her head back, looking up into his dark, intense face. Trying to read his intentions and failing. Something fierce burned there. Something that spoke of desire and hunger, and other, darker emotions. Emotions she couldn’t read. A deep foreboding shifted inside her.
This man was a stranger. Someone different. Someone complicated. Not the man she knew.
Perhaps that should have made her afraid. Made her pull away. But it didn’t. If anything it only wound her fascination tighter.
His free hand touched her bare thigh, fingers stroking over her skin, and she gasped, the brush of his fingertips searing her.
“I have rules, Ellie,” Hunter said. “And they’re non-negotiable. So if you want this, you’ll have to obey them.”
Non-negotiable rules? Why did that sound so damn hot? “I-I can do that.”
“You don’t know what they are yet.”
“I don’t care what they are. I’ll do whatever you want.” And she would. She’d do anything.
The fire in his eyes leapt higher. “First, don’t move. Second, don’t speak. And third, whatever you do, don’t touch me.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “Okay, I promise I won’t.”
His fingers stroked along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, moving higher, up and under the hem of her tiny skirt. The tension inside her began to pull tighter and tighter, her heartbeat thudding like a drum. His thumb pressed gently against the pulse at the base of her throat as if measuring it. God, she could feel it herself, so fast. He’d know exactly what his touch was doing to her.
She tried to swallow, the feeling of his hand on her throat erotic and intense. His other hand moved on her thigh, tracing little patterns on her skin. She found herself rising on her tiptoes, trying to get him to go higher still. Desperate for his hand to touch the wet, aching place between her legs. He’d only have to touch her once and she’d come, she was that sensitive. That desperate.
“Keep still.” His voice was low and soft in her ear. “Do as I say, sweetness, otherwise I’m gone.”
Ellie froze, trembling, and shut her eyes. It was becoming too much, too overwhelming. She’d wanted this for so long. Too long. The mere touch of his hand on her thigh was a pleasure so piercing she didn’t know how she would cope with anything more.
His fingers moved, sliding along the lacy edge of her knickers. “This is all there is, Ellie. Understand me? There’s nothing more I can give you.”
“Y-y-yes.” She could barely form the words.
“Keep your eyes closed. Don’t open them.”
Her breathing sounded harsh, fast. She felt as if she were made of glass and the slightest move would shatter her into a thousand pieces.
His fingers slid gently between her thighs, stroking over the lace of her knickers. Ellie groaned, unable to help it, pleasure so sharp it was like a knife turning inside her. She wanted to say his name but she’d promised not to speak, and at this point there was nothing she wouldn’t do to get what she wanted.
Hunter’s finger slowly traced the outline of her sex through the wet fabric of her underwear, moving up higher, and Ellie went utterly still. One touch. That’s all it would take. One touch and she’d fall off the edge of the world.
Her teeth sunk into her lip to keep from saying his name, to keep from begging, and she tasted blood.
Then, when she thought she wouldn’t be able to stand it any longer, his finger brushed her clit. The lightest of touches and yet it shattered her completely.
Ellie cried out, the orgasm twisting viciously through her, years of pent-up need, years of fantasies finally releasing in a flood that overwhelmed her. Trembling against the wall, she couldn’t stop the tears that came, the aftermath of an emotional intensity she was helpless against.
“Ellie?” Hunter murmured.
Her eyes opened, met his. There was a strange look on his face. One she could have sworn was fear. She swallowed, trying to find her voice again. “I’m f-fine.”
His hand dropped from her throat, and for some reason it made her feel cold. “You’re crying.”
Sobs caught her in throat. Ellie bent her head, pressing her forehead against Hunter’s shoulder the way she’d often done when she’d been young and in need of reassurance and support. He stilled and belatedly she remembered his warnings. But this wasn’t that kind of touch, surely? Anyway, she couldn’t move. Not right now. Another sob shook her and she found herself curling her fingers into the warm cotton of his T-shirt and holding on, a vast wave of emotion moving through her.
A hand on her head, gentle. Then fingers in her hair, pulling her head up. She didn’t want him to move away. Didn’t want him to go. But she knew by the look on his face that he was going to do both. “You’re okay?” he asked.