Page 48 of Because I Liked A Boy
Hunter shifts closer until his forehead rests against mine, his breath warmand steady. “You don’t have to figure it out tonight,” he murmurs. “Not alone. Not anymore.”
And that’s when it happens. The walls I’ve clung to, the mask I’ve worn for years they collapse under the weight of his words, his hand, his presence.
I let myself lean into him. I let myself unravel.
“Hunter…” My voice cracks, but I don’t care. “Thank you. For this. For not running.”
His thumb brushes a tear away, his gaze dropping to my mouth and lingering there. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
My breath stutters. The air between us is thin, electric. “Then do it.”
Unravelled
The first brush of his lips is barely there, a ghost of contact that steals my breath and makes my heart stumble. He kisses me like I might break, soft and tentative, tasting of wine and something darker.
I lean into it, chasing more, and he groans low in his chest. That sound wrecks me. My fingers fist in his shirt, tugging him closer, and that’s all it takes for him to snap.
The kiss deepens in a rush, hotter, hungrier. His tongue slides against mine, claiming, demanding, and I moan into his mouth. He swallows the sound like it fuels him, kissing me harder, his hand tangling in my hair, holding me right where he wants me.
Every second it builds, sharper, rougher, until I’m dizzy from it. There’s nothing gentle anymore, just heat and need and months of tension burning all at once.
The blanket shifts beneath us as I push into him. He falls back, dragging me with him until I’m straddling his hips. My skirt rides up, my knees press tight around him, and when I grind down the friction makes me whimper.
“Fuck, Isabella…” His voice is guttural, his hands gripping my hips, dragging me against him. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“Then die happy,” I whisper before crashing my mouth back onto his.
It’s frantic now, wild, teeth and tongues and gasping breaths. His hands roam up my sides, sliding beneath my top, calloused palms burning against bare skin. I arch into him, kissing harder, grinding down until my whole body feels like it’s on fire.
He tears his mouth from mine, sucking in air like he’s drowning, but his eyes stay locked on me, blown wide and desperate. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, princess.”
I press my lips to his, breathless. “I think I do.”
And then I kiss him again, deeper, harder, losing myself completely under the stars.
His hands grip my waist, dragging me down harder against him. I can feel him straining through his jeans, the friction sharp and relentless. Heat coils low in my stomach, sparking higher each time I move.
“Fuck…” he groans, broken, rough. His hand slides higher beneath my top, his thumb brushing the side of my breast. I gasp, arching into his touch.
“Isabella,” he breathes, tight with restraint. “Tell me what you want.”
The stars blur above us. The world narrows to him. “You,” I whisper. “I want you to touch me.”
Something dark flickers in his eyes, control snapping. His hand drifts down my stomach, slow, deliberate, until his fingers slip beneath my skirt. Rough fingertips skim the inside of my thigh and every muscle in me goes taut.
I gasp into his mouth as his hand edges higher, teasing, not rushing. Theanticipation is maddening, my body trembling with it.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, reverent. “So fucking beautiful like this.”
“Hunter—” My plea cracks.
He doesn’t make me beg twice. His fingers brush over the thin lace between my thighs and my whole body jolts.
A strangled gasp rips from my throat, nails digging into his shoulders. The touch is light, too light, and it makes my hips buck into his hand, desperate for more.
Hunter’s eyes darken, his jaw tight. “Fuck, look at you.”
He presses firmer, dragging his fingers slowly over the lace, back and forth, until I’m trembling above him. My thighs quake, my breath breaks in short, frantic bursts.
