Taking Him (Lies We Tell)(19)

He slid an arm around her waist, keeping her close, then he let his hand drift over the material of her knickers, pressing lightly right where her clit was, circling.

Ellie gave a soft little gasp, a tremble shaking her body. “Hunter…”

He looked up at her, continuing to stroke her through the cotton with his thumb, watching her flush deepen, her white teeth sinking into her bottom lip as he pressed harder.

He had so many boundaries and yet she made him want to test them. Made him want to push through them. She’d touched him and the distaste, the crawling, tainted feeling he’d always experienced, had disappeared. Got buried under all that heat. And now he wanted… Jesus, he fucking wanted…

“Touch me, sweetness,” he murmured. “Put your hands on me. Hold onto me while I make you come.”

She shivered again, her whole body trembling. Then her fingers dug into his shoulder while the palm of her other hand brushed over his head. He couldn’t stop the automatic tightening of his muscles, a whisper of discomfort brushing over him. But then it was gone and all he could feel was the burn of her touch. His arm tightened around her, holding her close, and then he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her green, star-scattered underwear, pushing down through the tangle of silky, copper curls to the wet heat he’d felt beneath the material.

Ellie gave a small cry, her fingers digging harder into his shoulder. Her other hand slid down over his head to grip the back of his neck. Christ…the touch of her hand on his bare skin felt like…like…being brushed with fire.

And he ignited.

He jerked her toward him and pulled down her underwear roughly, baring as much of her as he could. Then he bent farther and covered that delicious tangle of copper curls with his mouth.

Ellie gasped. “Oh God…”

Her weight shifted as she swayed, her body curving over his, her hands slipping down his back, her slender frame shivering.

He held her tight, tasting her, circling her hard little clit with his tongue, while he pulled her jeans and knickers down farther to give him better access. Then he slid his hand between her thighs and eased two fingers into the tight, wet heart of her.

“Harder, Hunter. Up a little bit. Yes…that’s it. Good boy. Oh, very good boy…”

The flashback hit him hard because the moment Ellie had touched him he’d forgotten. Forgotten everything. But now memory flooded him. Of the afternoon Liz gave him his first lesson in how to pleasure a woman. An unwelcome, unwanted memory.

He shut his eyes, fighting the voice in his head. Fighting the past that threatened to pull him under, the feeling of dirtiness that began its slow, inexorable creep over his skin.

Then Ellie gave a soft moan and her nails scraped his back through the cotton of his T-shirt. The pain was negligible but it was enough.

The past receded and Hunter poured every ounce of concentration he had into the woman in his arms. Into the blinding heat and desire and musky sweetness of what was happening right now.

Ellie. And oh Christ, she was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Spicy and sweet and salty all at once. The feeling of her curled over him, the heat of her around him was so intense and he was so fucking hard. She felt so fucking good. Tasted so fucking good.

Ellie cried out, the sound of a sob catching in her throat, inner muscles clenched around his fingers. Hunter held her tightly as the shudders racked her, the memories, the flashbacks, all wiped away by the heat of the woman in his arms. By her taste. By her scent.

Wiped clean.

He closed his eyes, holding her for a little while because he was so hard it hurt.

Then, as her body grew lax, he moved, adjusting her so her weight was on his knee, her head on his shoulder. Taking her hand, he put it on the fly of his jeans, pressed down.

“I want your hand on my cock,” he ordered softly, pulling open his jeans. “Do it now, Ellie.”

She didn’t say anything, only did what he wanted, the cool touch of her fingers sliding into his boxers nearly making him come on the spot. Then she held him, squeezing, and he groaned.

He could feel her breath against the side of his neck and then the brush of her mouth on the bare skin above the neckline of his T-shirt. The softness of it seared him and he put his hand over hers, urging her faster, harder.

Ellie made a soft noise, turned her head, and he felt her teeth on his skin, closing down on the sensitive place where neck meets shoulder. The bite sent an arc of searing hot pleasure right down his spine so that he gasped her name. And came.





Chapter Eight

Ellie’s heartbeat thundered in her head. She could feel the aftershocks shaking him, his breathing uneven and hoarse. The salty, musky taste of his skin filled her mouth, the scent of him everywhere, and she didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to even breathe in case the moment shattered.

She should have pulled away from him before, she knew she should. But she couldn’t resist him, hungry for anything he’d give her. And she was glad she hadn’t now.

God, she’d done that to him. Made him sound like that. Made him demand like that. It gave her the most intense satisfaction she’d ever had. Not even hearing she’d got the job in Tokyo had made her feel quite the same.

She turned her head into his neck and shut her eyes, breathing him in, wanting to hold on to the closeness with him for as long as she could. Because sooner or later, there would be distance. There always was with Hunter.

He shifted and she thought that perhaps this was the moment when he’d push her away, but he didn’t. Instead she felt his body move and then the rasp of a paper towel he must have got from the roll on the table as he cleaned both of them up. She kept her eyes closed, pressed her cheek against the warmth of his skin.

Neither of them said anything, the silence a still, waiting presence between them.

Eventually, because it wasn’t enough to sit against him, she put a hand on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the cotton of his T-shirt. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word as she let her hand slide down again, all the way down to where his jeans were still undone. Ellie opened her eyes, circling him with her fingers. God, he was still semi-hard. She idly ran her thumb along the smooth, heated skin of his cock, stroking, watching as he got even harder.

A shudder ran through him, a harsh intake of breath in her ear.

She moved, sliding off his lap to kneel down between his thighs. She wanted to taste him. Take him in her mouth. Give him the same pleasure as he’d given her.

“Ellie,” he murmured hoarsely. “Stop.”

But she barely heard him. This had been one of her darkest, most secret fantasies and the thought of finally being able to indulge it was intoxicating. She bent her head, holding him in one fist. Then suddenly strong fingers were in her hair, jerking her back so sharply tears started in her eyes.

“I said fucking stop!”

Dazed, she looked up at him. Darkness burned in his eyes, the skin drawn tight over his cheekbones, his lips drawn back in what was almost a snarl. He looked wild, dangerous, anger blazing so brightly she couldn’t look away. She’d never seen him display it so openly before. Never seen him less than silent and still and contained. But his expression seemed almost glazed, as if he wasn’t really seeing her but someone or something else.

His hand twisted brutally in her hair and a little whimper of pain escaped her. “Let me go,” she managed to gasp out. “You’re hurting me.”

Hunter blinked, his gaze abruptly focusing on her. “Shit,” he whispered and released her, thick, black lashes veiling the black glitter of his eyes.

An icy feeling began to unravel inside her. Whatever was going on in that head of his, whatever he’d been looking at just then, it wasn’t anything good. “I think you’d better tell me what the hell is going on, Hunter,” she quietly.

He ran a hand over his head, spiking up his short black hair. “Give me some space a second.”

“But—”

“Please, Ellie.”

Reluctantly, she rose to her feet and took a step back from him. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, tension in every line of his body.

The chill inside her intensified a little more. She’d wanted to know more about him, know the man behind those opaque black eyes. But now she wasn’t so sure. Somewhere inside the man she thought she knew burned a rage she wasn’t sure she was equipped to deal with. A terrible, hungry rage. It frightened her and yet…

It fascinates you too.

She took a small, silent breath. Yeah, it did. It really did. Rage, passion and a whole raft of other emotions lurked beneath the surface of the man who sat in front of her now and yeah, she was fascinated. Drawn to him. He was more dangerous, more complicated and far more intense than she’d ever imagined.

“So,” she said in a voice that was more breathless than she wanted it to be. “Are you going to tell me why you nearly scalped me?”

He didn’t move or speak for a long time. Then, when she thought he wouldn’t say a word, he lifted his head, the look on his face set and hard. “You need to listen when I tell you to stop. I don’t say it for the fun of it.”

Guilt sat like lead in her stomach. “I’m sorry. But how was I to know you didn’t like me going down on you? I don’t normally get guys trying to pull my hair off.”