Page 142 of Bloom

“You’ll fit,” I tell him, tell myself, tell—beg—the universe. “You will.”

And he does. Barely. Slowly, steadily, he works himself inside me, and it’s a tight fit, God, is it a tight fit, and there’s a definite thrumming ache, a little pinching that takes my breath away momentarily, but then he justfits.

Gripping the wrist attached to the hand curled around my waist, I practically rip the bedsheets to shreds with my other hand. I feel so full.Sofull. As I stare at where we join, I half expect to see my abdomen bulging with the girth of him.

Unnaturally still, something desperate contorts his face. “You okay?”

Guess that depends on one’s definition ofokay. “I can’t feel anything but you.”

Hunter mouths a curse, his grip tightening, but he still doesn’t move, not until my nails dig into his skin and I beg him to. He thrusts slowly at first, testing what I can handle.

I moan at the slow, torturous drag. “More, please.”

He pauses. Breathes deep. Pulses inside me, makes me moan a little more when he leans forward to kiss me and his pelvis grazes my clit, wraps both hands around my waist as he straightens up again. And then, he startspounding.

It’s all I can do to hold on, one hand braced against the headboard, the other still clamped around his wrist, the only part of him I can reach at this angle. At this angle, he can reach every part of me, and he does. He can’t decide where to touch, rubbing between my thighs and palming my breasts and cupping the slope of my neck, but he never stops hitting that perfect spot inside of me. He never stops looking at me, gazing into my eyes, and that’s what makes me feel so verygood.

It doesn’t take long until I feel that tightening in my lower belly again. I gasp as I clench around Hunter, squirm as he smirks knowingly, come so damn hard when he says, “Could stay inside you forever, Caroline. Feel so damn good. Feel likemine.”

I see stars. Fireworks.God.

I shake like a leaf as I sob Hunter’s name, reaching for him at the same time he drops to his elbows and kisses me desperately,lovingly. Through it all, he never stops thrusting, chasing his own high.

“I want you on top,” he moans against my mouth. “Want you to ride me.”

I’ve never done that, but God, am I willing to try.

Without pulling out for even a second, Hunter rolls onto his back and drags me with him. My thighs burn as I straddle his wide hips, my breath stilted and I adjust to him all over again.He feels bigger like this—an impossible feat. I feel even fuller, and when glides a palm along my lower stomach and presses down gently, I buckle, both hands braced against his chest as I cry out from so much glorious pressure.

Instinct takes over. I roll my hips, slow at first until I get the hang of it, faster when I feel like I can handle the intense stretch, and two big hands encircling my waist help me rise up until just the tip of him is inside me and slam back down again. Again and again and again, until I’m crying out, until Hunter’s moans are so loud, I feel them in my bones.

“Doin’ so good, honey,” he rasps. “Fuckin’look at you.”

I do. My head drops forward so I can watch where we connect, and I could come again from the sight alone. I almost do when I glance up at Hunter again, and the euphoric,reverentlook on his face sears through me.

“Next time I’m bare inside you, coming inside you—” With a groan, he cuts himself off, his eyes slamming shut in a visible display of restraint.

I really want him to finish that sentence, even though I have a pretty good guess. I want to hear it, even though I still feel like a kid myself sometimes, let alone capable of raising one, even though we’ve known each other for less time than it takes to grow a freaking child. It shouldn’t, but the idea does something to me; Hunter wanting me pregnantdoes somethingto me.

I find myself moving a little faster, clenching around him a little tighter, dropping a little lower so I can murmur in his ear, “Next time,” and that’s what gets him.

He comes hard, moaning my name hopelessly as he thrusts sloppily, and that and the feel of him releasing inside me triggers me once more.

Trembling, I collapse on top of him. Panting and sweating, and my thighs scream in protest, but I don’t move a muscle. Ifeel something trickle down my thigh, but I still don’t move, and Hunter doesn’t either.

He stays beneath me, soft inside me, and soft on the outside too as he whispers in my ear that he loves me.

And I almost, Ialmost, tell him that I love him too.

43

He spends most of the twilight hours inside of her.

Still, it’s not enough.

Early the next morning,while Hunter is still asleep, I walk to the main house despite the strain in, oh, just about every single muscle in my body.

Because it wasn’tjust once. I should’ve known it was never going to bejust once. It wasa lotmore than that. So much that any faith in my birth control dissipated somewhere along the way and, despite what might’ve been moaned in the heat of the moment, I need to buy some Plan B just in case. But that’s later on today’s agenda. Right now, I’m on the hunt for something—someone—else, and I find him exactly where I thought I would.

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