The Boy on the Bridge

“Hunter,” I whimper, my fingers digging into the sheets.

His tongue darts out and he licks my opening. I gasp, throwing my head back into the pillow.

“Say please, Riley.”

Defeated, I close my eyes. “Please, Hunter. Please eat my pussy. I need it. I need you inside me.”

“Good girl,” he purrs.

His approval sends a shiver straight through me.

Then he spreads me open with his fingers, and my whole body lights up as he pushes his tongue into me.

It’s exquisite torture, trying not to buck as he explores every silky inch. When Hunter eats me out, he’s not just there to do what he has to in order to get the job done—he wants his mouth on every crevice of me. He wants to explore me, mark me. He eats me like he loves doing it, and it’s so fucking intoxicating.

When I arch against the bed and grab desperately for his hair, his grip on my hips tightens, his mouth on my pussy grows greedier. I ride his face, crying out with abandon as tremors wrack my body.

His mouth never leaves me as I ride wave after wave of pleasure, until finally, I need him to. My grip on his hair eases. I let go and fall back against the bed, completely boneless.

Hunter could take his cock out and fuck me right now, I certainly wouldn’t complain, but instead he climbs back up the bed and pulls me into the protective shelter of his embrace.

I’m so vulnerable right after I come, and he knows it. He holds me close and pets my hair. I hold onto him tight, listening to his strong heartbeat.

“That was lovely,” I murmur, once I can trust myself to speak. “Thank you.”

Hunter tips my head back so he can bend to kiss my lips. “You never have to thank me for making you come, Catnip. It’s my favorite thing to do.”

I smile against his lips, then wrap my arms around his neck and hug him. “I love you.”

His arm tightens around my waist, keeping me pulled snugly against his body. “I love you, too.”

Chapter Sixty Three

Riley

New York is absolutely beautiful at night.

It was beautiful earlier in the day, too, but as the limo drives us down Fifth Avenue, I can’t help admiring the great architecture and the bright city lights.

I’ve never really been anywhere before. One summer when I was little, Mom took a temporary position on Nantucket so we could spend our off days on the beach, but I certainly haven’t traveled far.

Hunter places a hand on my thigh, exposed by the slit. His touch draws my attention and I look back at him.

His eyes gleam with affection. “Are you excited?”

Beaming back at him, I nod. “It’s so pretty here.”

He points up ahead. “That’s the club, so we’ll be getting out in a minute.”

There are cars on the street, likely from other guests, so our driver has to wait to turn. “We shouldn’t have brought a limo,” I tell him. “It’s too big, the city’s too busy.”

Hunter shrugs, not all that concerned with taking up more space than he needs to.

As traffic moves a little bit, our limo turns onto the street where the entrance to the building is. I can see it up ahead, a big building with ivory columns and wrought iron gates. It’s a building from another time, meant only for a certain class of people.

I don’t belong in a place like this.

My awe begins to fade, replaced by the inky grime of intimidation.

If Hunter’s dad belongs in a place like this, what if he realizes right away I’m not the caliber of person he’d want to be with his son?

At home, it’s easy to forget who Hunter is. Sure, he has money, but there isn’t a huge disparity in our lifestyles. He’s perfectly comfortable coming over to my two bedroom house to have dinner with my working class family. There’s no sense that he’s better than us just because he has more than we do.

This building… this building was constructed to let common people know the people inside are better than them.

Looking over at Hunter, I ask what might be a ridiculous question. “Is your dad nice?”

“What?”

My heart starts to pound as the driver puts the car in park right in front of the entrance. It’s a manned entrance with gates that have been opened since there’s an event here tonight, but it looks anything but welcoming.

“I just… we’ve talked about him a little, but I’ve obviously never met him. Your mom said he can be a bit intense and volcanic, but you seem to like him. I’m just not sure what to expect.”

“Nah, that’s nothing you have to worry about. This is an important event, so he’ll have his public face on tonight. But he’s a good guy, and he knows I’m bringing you. He’s looking forward to meeting you.”