Sex, Not Love

“I can’t promise more. But I also can’t seem to walk out that fucking door.”

I was sad and angry. So, how did I respond?

I kissed him.

Probably not the smartest move I’ve ever made. Yet I couldn’t help myself.

It took about one second for Hunter to stop fighting it. He cupped both hands around my ass and lifted me up against the door. My legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, and all of my angry energy poured into the kiss.

I couldn’t get close enough. And this time, I was positive I wasn’t the only one. Hunter wound his fingers into my hair, tilted my head to deepen the kiss, and pressed his body into mine as he let out a groan. Our hearts pounded against each other. We began tearing away our clothes without ungluing our mou

ths. Engrossed in the furies of passion, I hadn’t even noticed we were moving until I felt Hunter’s foot push open the door to my bedroom.

Ever so gently, he set me down on the bed, our tongues still intertwined. I was lost—we were lost—in the moment. It wasn’t until our kiss broke, and Hunter stood to remove the rest of his clothes, that either one of us had a chance to sober up from the high of arousal.

Our gazes locked, and he froze, his hand on his zipper. “Do you want me to stop? Tell me now.”

Ten minutes ago I’d been kicking him out. Now I wanted him inside of me more than my next breath. Of course, in the moment, I could justify anything. What difference would two more weeks make? I already had feelings for him. It wasn’t like depriving myself of sexual gratification was going to change that. My eyes dropped to the thick bulge straining for release from Hunter’s pants.

Nope. Two more weeks isn’t going to make one lick of a difference.

“No,” I whispered. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Heat pushed the hesitancy out of Hunter’s eyes. He pulled a condom from his wallet, tossed the billfold on the floor, and made quick work of shedding the rest of my clothes. Hovering over me, he rubbed his thick erection up and down my center before looking into my eyes one last time for confirmation.

I nodded, but as he dipped his head to take my mouth again, I changed my mind. “Wait.”

Hunter froze with our noses a centimeter apart.

If I was going to do this, I wanted to be in control as much as I could. “I want to be on top,” I said.

A flash of relief crossed his gorgeous face. In one swift move, he rolled to his back, putting me on top. “Ride me, baby,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Ride me hard.”

I rose to my knees and took him in my hand. He was so thick, my fingers couldn’t wrap around his width. Hunter’s hands pressed into my hips, and he lifted me to hover high enough to line up his crown at my entrance. The scent of sex wafted in the air, permeating everything.

I looked down at Hunter. He looked so desperate, yet he’d ceded me the control I needed, even if that control was false.

“Fuck,” he groaned as I lowered myself onto him.

His fingers pressed into my hips so hard, I’d probably have bruises tomorrow. I wanted bruises tomorrow. And I wanted to see every second of what I could do to this man. Looking into his eyes, I took more of him in. He blew out a heavy rush of air that I sucked in as I glided up and down, allowing him to go even deeper.

Hunter was a big man, and in this position almost painfully so. Yet I relished that pain. Leaning back, with my hands on his thighs behind me, I arched my spine. The position sucked him in until I was fully seated with my ass resting nearly on his balls.

“Christ. Slow down, Natalia.”

The unspoken threat of what would happen if I didn’t spurred me on. I rocked my hips back and forth, round and round. The tension in his face drove me wild, with an insane need to make him lose control. I rode him hard; my full breasts bouncing up and down with each rise and fall. Sweat sheathed my skin, and my thighs shook with anticipation.

Hunter’s thumb pressed to my aching clit, and he began to rub circles that made my hips follow in unison. My breathing came in short, staccato bursts, and a moan escaped as my orgasm gripped hold of me.

“Hunter,” I cried.

He answered by fisting a handful of my hair and pulling my mouth down to meet his. His tongue swooped in for a kiss that swept away whatever reality I had left. I was utterly and completely lost in this man.

It was all too much—his masterful fingers massaging my clit, the constant rubbing of that sensitive spot inside of me, his hand wound so tight in my hair, his demanding mouth. Orgasm shot through me, wave after wave of spasms that took over my body. My moans were swallowed between our joined mouths.

Breathless, I gasped for air, and Hunter loosened his grip on my hair so he could watch the last quakes ripple through me.

“Fucking beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”