Page 82 of Through the Flames
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My girl had gotten bolder over the last couple of days.
Comfortable. Cocky, even.
She was padding around the house barefoot, wearing nothing but my shirts, her bare legs flashing like a dare.
How the fuck was I supposed to get anything done knowing she was just mere steps away, always within reach?
When I returned from my early workout — fuck, it was hard getting out of bed these days — the faint scent of coffee brewing accompanied by the sound of water dripping from her shower greeted me.
Glancing at my phone, I decided to answer Colt’s messages he’d sent while I was half-lucid. Fucker was probably wondering why I hadn’t answered.
Colt: Dude. You awake? Or is this another robot hibernation situation?
Hunter: Awake. Functioning at 63%.
Colt: 63%? That’s … concerning. Did someone unplug you again?
Hunter: No. Just distracted by an actual human presence.
Colt: I still can’t believe you actually pulled this off. She moved in with you. You’re just as obsessed as I am, you fucking hypocrite.
Hunter: Obsession is a strong word. Consider it … methodical enthusiasm.
Colt: Methodical enthusiasm? Dude, that’s just code for completely unhinged.
Hunter: Call it what you want. Results speak for themselves.
Colt: Results? You mean her being here? That’s … terrifying and impressive at the same time.
Hunter: Good. Terrifying is underrated.
Colt: You’re insane. And also, very proud of yourself, aren’t you?
Hunter: What can I say? Everything’s working exactly as planned. Of course I’m fucking proud.
Prepping my protein shake, I listened to her puttering around upstairs before her bare feet were padding noisily down the stairs.
I locked my phone just as Ella stopped short when she spotted me leaning against the counter, heat flaring up in her eyes when they trailed over my body.
Aaaaand my dick was starting to get hard.
This was the first time in my life being attracted to someone, being aroused by someone, and I hadn’t expected it to affect me so much.
I’d been hard before, and I’d gotten off before, plenty of times, in fact. Pleasuring myself was always transactional for me.
A release, nothing more and nothing less.
But this? This was so fucking different.
Like my body didn’t ask for permission, like it knew something my head hadn’t caught up to yet.
This time, it wasn’t just blood rushing south; it was a full-body experience. Every muscle pulling tight, my chest clenching like I was about to sprint straight into a storm.
I wanted it. I wanted her. Not just her mouth or her body, but all of her. I wanted every goddamn piece, like I’d been starving for something I hadn’t even known existed.
For years, control had been my religion. Never letting anyone close enough to touch anything that mattered.
