Page 83 of Because I Liked A Boy
“Please what?” His mouth marked a line down my throat. “Stop? Keep going? Wreck you so good you can’t walk out of here?”
“Hunter,” I sobbed, thighs shaking.
He pulled his fingers free, slick with me, and pressed them to my lips. “Taste.”
The command undid me. My tongue flicked out. His groan went low and unhinged.
“That’s it.” He lined up, breath shuddering. “Now watch.”
He thrust into me hard and deep.
I screamed, the shower’s hiss swallowing the sound. My reflection bloomed in the fogged mirror. Flushed cheeks. Wet hair. Open mouth.
“Look,” he growled, pounding into me until the stall shook. He slid a hand into my hair and pulled just enough to hold my gaze to the glass. “Watch me fuck you. Watch what I do to you.”
Tile slick under my palms. Water hammering. His hips relentless. The wrecked girl in the mirror was me and I couldn’t look away.
“Eyes open,” he ordered, thumb grinding my clit until white burst behind my lids. “Don’t you dare look away.”
I shattered hard, clenching around him, a broken cry tearing free as the orgasm ripped through me.
He didn’t let me hide. He held me there and drove through the aftershocks, thrusts turning rougher as he chased his own edge.
“Jesus Christ, Isabella,” he gritted, voice wrecked, rhythm slipping. “You’re mine. Every scream. Every drop. Mine.”
He slammed deep and came with a raw sound, teeth catching my shoulder as heat flooded me.
For a moment there was only water and breath. His forehead rested in my wet hair, his hand flattening over my stomach to keep me tight to his chest. He kissed my jaw, softer now.
“Look at you,” he whispered, reverent. “Mine. Every inch.”
After, his touch went gentle. He cleaned me with careful hands, quiet and focused, like it mattered. Exhaustion tugged at my eyes.
“Uh-oh,” he chuckled, scooping me up. “Princess is crashing.”
I yawned into his throat and let him carry me upstairs. He laid me on cool sheets and slid in behind me, one heavy arm banding my waist and hauling me back into his chest.
Across the room, the ridiculous bunny slumped in a chair, bow crooked and ears bent. Hunter snorted and kissed the top of my head. “Matches you,” he mumbled, already half-asleep.
I smiled against his skin, lulled by the steady thud of his heart. In the quiet, with his arm locked tight around me, the words I’d been afraid to say formed anyway.
I want more. Not just tonight. Him. Us. All of it.
Tomorrow, I’d tell him.
Shattered Trust
Morning light spilled through the blinds, soft and golden, cutting across the room in thin stripes. The first thing I noticed was warmth—the heavy weight of Hunter’s arm slung around my waist, the steady heat of his chest pressed against my back, the rhythm of his breath fanning over the curve of my neck.
For a moment, I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just listened to him. His chest rising and falling like nothing in the world could touch us.
It felt… safe.
Careful not to wake him, I slid out from under his arm. He stirred but didn’t wake, only rolled onto his stomach, face buried in the pillow. His hair was a wild mess, his tattoos stretched over his bare back, and my chest ached at the sight of him so unguarded.
On the floor, his T-shirt lay tangled with my cami. I bent, picked it up, and slipped it over my head. It swallowed me whole, soft cotton falling mid-thigh, smelling like cedarwood and soap and him. My panties peeked out beneath the hem, but I didn’t care.
Barefoot, I padded quietly down the stairs. The floor was cool under my soles, the house silent except for the faint hum of the fridge and the creak of the wood beneath me.
