The Boy on the Bridge

Then he pushes a finger into me and the last vestiges of my resistance melt away. I gasp as he strokes me, my nerves so sensitive that just the caress of his finger about sends me through the ceiling.

“Hunter,” I say on a gasp, sinking back against him.

“Yes, Riley?” he purrs in my ear, teasing my clit with his fingertip.

“Oh, God,” I groan, gasping again.

“Your pussy feels so good,” he murmurs, kissing the side of my neck. “Like silk. It’ll feel so good around my dick.”

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, my bullied, isolated, exiled common sense screams something about a condom.

The common sense gets lost, drowned out by a thrilling wave of pleasure as Hunter fingers me. I can’t believe how good it feels. It’s never felt this good when I touched myself. I’ve never been wound up so tightly, so quickly.

“Hunter,” I moan again, leaning back against him. It sounds like a plea or a complaint. It’s both. His finger feels so good, but I want more. I want all of him.

He kisses my neck. “You want more?”

I’m so glad he can read my mind tonight. I can’t say anything of substance or think my way through an open door. Another sharp jolt of pleasure shoots through me as he teases me. I want to come, but…

My stomach twists and turns, a line of tension running tight through my entire body as he toys with me. I can feel it everywhere. It makes my legs shake. I don’t know how much longer I can stand upright with him touching me like this.

“You want me to fuck you, Riley?”

His words send another sharp jolt through my already overstimulated body. I close my eyes, rocking against his hand. His finger slides a little deeper, he rubs a little harder.

My heart pounds. I need something to hold onto, so I reach back and grab onto his neck. I pull his face closer and he kisses my neck more hungrily, the intensity of his kiss ratcheting up as he fingers me faster.

“Oh God,” I cry breathlessly, taking short, shallow breaths as my legs tremble beneath me. “Hunter…”

“You’re not saying no.” He punctuates his observation by lightly biting my neck, then kissing the spot he just bit. “Can I fuck you, Riley?”

I can’t hold on anymore. Throwing my head back and arching against him, I cry out, grinding against his hand and riding the wave of release.

I feel weak in the aftermath. Hunter pulls his hand out of my pants and locks his arms around me. Shudders are still wracking my body when his warm, amused voice hits my ears.

“I’m gonna take your silence as a yes.”

A memory hits me—a treasured one I’ve thought a lot about over the years. That day we were alone in his bedroom for the first time.

Hunter always made me think about doing things I never thought about doing before, even back then.

He’s a temptation I don’t really want to resist.

I want to play it out, though, so even though I know my answer is yes, I answer back, “That’s a dangerous precedent.”

I can hear the smirk in his voice as he presses another soft kiss against my neck. “Tell me no, then.”

I can’t tell him no.

I don’t want to.

My insides feel all warm and fuzzy.

I turn around to face him, my gaze locking with his.

I bite down on my bottom lip, then I sit on the bed and scoot back to make room for him.

His beautiful eyes glint with victory, his perfect lips tugging up like the jungle cat that got the cream.

I feel soft and happy as Hunter joins me on the bed. I don’t panic this time when he pulls my jeans down and off my body. When he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and tugs them down, too.

My heart starts to beat fast again when I realize I’m completely naked and he’s still fully dressed. I figure he’ll undress now, but he’s too busy drinking in the sight of me.

A bit self-conscious, I squeeze my legs together right before his gaze hits on the spot between them.

His gaze shoots to mine. He has the audacity to look bereft. “What is this fucking shit?”

I bite back a smile, then I curl up on my side and cover my breasts with my hands. “Stop looking at me.”

“Never,” he says, moving up behind me.

“You’re looking too hard,” I tell him. “You’re making me shy.”

Hunter grabs my wrists, tugging my hands away from my breasts and rolling me onto my back. In one smooth move, he climbs on top of me and pins my wrists against the bed beside me. “Nuh uh. We’re not doing that.” Dipping his head, he kisses the soft mound of my right breast. “These are mine. Mine to look at, mine to taste.”