Chapter 7

Hunter lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his body stiff with need.

Over and over, he played that scene in the library through in his mind. Gretchen’s innocent question as she asked him to help her with a project. Her breast pressing against his arm, and the way his cock immediately responded. Her soft red hair moving over her shoulders as she tilted her head, watching him.

The amazement he’d felt when she’d began to read the lewd letters out loud, asking him to act them out.

He’d put his hand on her breast and nearly shattered, the pleasure had been so intense. She hadn’t been repulsed by his touch, either. Instead, she’d encouraged it, moving her hips in little motions under him until he’d dared enough to strip her pants down her thighs and taste her.

He’d been lost in that moment. He was totally and completely hers.

Except . . . he’d felt too much too soon. He knew his control wasn’t what it should be, and he’d tensed, suddenly afraid of showing his inexperience. She’d pouted a little, but had ended up surprising him all over again, touching herself and inviting him to touch himself in response.

When he’d set this project in motion, he’d hoped to merely spend time with her. Be around her and let his glimpses of her fuel his longings. He’d never hoped for as much as he’d gotten this afternoon.

She wasn’t repulsed by his scars. She hadn’t flinched away from his scarred hand and missing finger. He touched his cheek. She hadn’t backed away when he reached for her. If anything, she’d seemed . . . eager for his touch. As if it had been what she’d been waiting for all along.

And he’d been unable to give her what she wanted. She’d wanted to be fucked but he’d pulled off her like a green schoolboy and jerked his cock instead. Shame mixed with hunger and he sat up in bed, frustrated.

His dick was already hard again. Just the merest thought of Gretchen and he went wild with need.

He wanted to see her again. That afternoon, he’d left her on the couch, sated. Was she hurt by his abandonment? Angry? As frustrated as he was? It was suddenly important to him that he talk to her and explain himself. The thought of telling her about his inexperience made his throat go dry, but she deserved to know. It wasn’t her who was the problem; it was him. And he didn’t want her to go another moment thinking that there was something wrong with her.

Hunter jumped out of bed and tossed on a robe, loosely tying it as he headed down the dark hallways of Buchanan Manor. She’d think he was crazy. Completely crazy. But he needed to talk to her.

A short time later, he stood in front of her room, hesitating. Her door was shut, no light shining underneath. She was asleep. Should he stay? Go? Gathering his courage, he knocked softly, and when there was no response, knocked louder.

Gretchen arrived at the door a moment later, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She was dressed in an oversized T-shirt and panties. Her long, curvy legs were bare. “Mmm, Hunter? What’s going on?”

She was mouthwatering. Soft, sleepy, and gorgeous. The T-shirt slipped off one shoulder, baring her skin, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

Hunter moved forward, grasped her by the shoulders, and kissed her.

Gretchen stiffened against him and that horrible, horrible fear crashed through him—fear that she wasn’t attracted to him, fear that she’d be repulsed by his touch, fear that she’d turn him away. But then she pushed into his arms with enthusiasm, sliding her hands around the back of his neck and kissing him.

It was his first kiss. He realized after she softened in his arms that he had no idea what to do. He’d never kissed anyone before. What if he fucked this up? What if—

Gretchen’s tongue slicked out and licked the tight seam of his mouth.

Ah, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was the most amazing thing he’d ever felt. The tip of her tongue might as well have been licking his cock, for it shot a jolt straight there. Hunter groaned, unable to help himself.

She touched the seam of his mouth again with her tongue, and he parted his lips, fascinated by the aggressive lead she’d taken. Immediately, Gretchen’s tongue swept into his mouth, stroking against his in a coaxing move that made him harden with need.

“Gretchen,” he breathed against her lips. His cock ached so badly for her that he couldn’t think straight, was losing track of what he’d arrived here to do. “I—we need to talk.”

Her warm, delicious figure suddenly pulled away. “Talk? That sounds bad.” She tilted her head up at him and gave him a teasing look. “Are you coming here to break up with me?”

“No.” He wanted to crawl between her legs and settle there again. He wanted to touch her all over. Caress her. Kiss her more. Kiss her for hours. “I just . . . there are things that need to be said between us.”

“That sounds very serious. Why don’t you come to bed and tell me? It’s cold out here.” She gave a small shiver, and he noticed her nipples were hard, poking against the thin fabric of her sleep shirt.

The sight made him nearly spend right there. Hunter scrubbed a hand down his face as Gretchen took his hand and led him to the bed. She crawled under the covers and then held them open for him, inviting him in.

The most beautiful, desirable woman he’d ever seen was inviting him to her bed. Damn, he was a lucky son of a bitch.

Hunter hesitated but then slid into bed next to her, feeling stiff and uncomfortable and awkward. He didn’t belong here. Any moment she’d tug his robe open, see that the scars covering one half of his face also went down his side, and be repulsed. She’d pull away and then he’d be left wallowing in his own humiliated fury.

To his surprise, Gretchen reached over and turned off the lamp, setting the room in darkness. “Better?” she asked softly. “You seem uneasy.”

He was. He was tense as hell and kept waiting for her to come to her senses and realize he wasn’t handsome. “The lights off is better for you,” he bit out. “Less to see.”

Her warm chuckle in the dark made his cock jump, and he nearly groaned aloud when her hair brushed against his shoulder. Gretchen’s fingers touched his chest, lightly trailing along his chest hair. “I like the way you look.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he said harshly, a stab of anger flaring through him. He kept his fists clenched at his side, though he wanted nothing more than to touch her. “I know what I look like.”

“I do, too,” she said easily, and those teasing fingers trailed down his stomach, lightly swirling at his belly button. “You have dark hair and a strong nose, and scars on one side of your face. You’re taller than me, have big arms, and you turn your cheek aside when possible, like you’re trying to shield the world from your face.”

The breath left him. Stunned, he said nothing for a long moment, waiting. Waiting for her to say something. When she remained quiet, he struggled for something to say, to make her feel the depth of his struggle. “People flinch when they look at me. They turn away when they see my face.”

“People are assholes,” she said, and he felt her shoulders lift as if she were giving a tiny shrug. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent man . . . with a few scars.”

Her finger dipped into his belly button, distracting him from the angry protest about to spill forth. She wasn’t listening to him. She didn’t understand what it was like to be the one who everyone looked away from. To turn people’s stomach with a look of your face.

To be so utterly alone in the world.

Of course, he was having a hard time thinking about being alone while she played with his navel, her fragrant hair brushing against his cheek.

“Won’t you touch me?” she whispered back to him. “You seem so stiff and angry.”

He ached with his need to touch her. Ached. But something held him back. Fear of . . . what? Rejection? Seeing that look of loathing on her face that he’d seen so many times?

“I don’t know how to do this, Gretchen.”

“Hmm?” The teasing lilt was back in her voice. “Don’t know how to touch me?”

“No,” he said harshly, hating the word even as he spit it out. “I’ve never . . . I don’t . . .”

“That’s all right, Hunter.”

“It’s not,” he said roughly, reaching out and daring to touch a lock of her hair that was tickling his chest. It was soft and silky, and his mind immediately filled with images of her hair sliding all over him, her naked body following. His cock reared, and he bit his lip to keep from spilling with need. “It’s . . . not . . . okay.”

“I know you’re a virgin, Hunter. I guessed as much. You were so young when you were hurt, I just assumed . . .”

An ironic twist flexed his mouth. Of course she knew. He was fucking obvious as hell. “I just wanted you to know that it’s not you. It’s me. It’s all me, and if I push you away it’s because I don’t know how to pull you close. I’m not . . . I’m not good with people.”

“I’m not, either,” she said in an easy voice. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I tend to blurt out the first thing I’m thinking.”

“I like that about you,” he told her honestly. “I like everything about you.”

“Mmm.” She sounded pleased.

Encouraged, he closed his eyes and rubbed that strand of hair, imagining the deep red spilling across his palm. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Gretchen. I want to touch you all over. Explore you. Give you pleasure like I’m supposed to, but every time you touch me, I just . . . lose it.”

“Hair trigger?” she said with a chuckle.

A knot of humiliation burned in his throat. He remained silent.

“Hunter. It’s okay. I don’t mind,” she said softly. “Is it me? Am I too forward for you?”

“No. I like you forward. It’s just . . .” He struggled to find the right words to say. For the first time, he wished the room weren’t so dark so he could see her face, see the expression in her beautiful eyes.

“Do you want to explore me? I don’t mind.”

He went silent. What exactly was she offering?

“Here,” she said in a low voice, moving his hand to her wrist. She then reached behind her and placed her hand on the headboard. “I’ll put my hands here and I won’t move them. You can touch me how you like, and I promise not to touch you back. We’ll go as slow as you need to. I promise.”

His breathing grew rapid. Hunter remained still, and when she didn’t move a muscle, he sat up, wishing he could see her in the darkness. But he didn’t want to turn the light on, not yet. He didn’t want to see her flinch. “What should I— what do you want?”

“Whatever you like. I’m here for the taking.” Her voice was sultry and still contained that delicious hint of fun that made Gretchen so very intoxicating to his senses. “This is your game. You’re in charge.”

It took him a long moment before he reached out on the bed . . . and discovered a smooth knee. He caressed it, marveling at the feel of her skin.

“You can go higher, you know. Nothing bites.”

“I know. I’m just . . . enjoying.” This was his first time to ever touch a woman and truly explore her. He wanted to savor the moment.

He’d never thought he’d have this. Even in his younger years, when he’d ached with need for a simple touch, he’d never considered hiring an escort for sex. To pay a woman to suck his cock and then watch her flinch when she saw him? No, paying for sex seemed like the worst of both worlds.

And yet Gretchen had offered herself to him. His hand trailed higher, caressing her thigh.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she said, her voice light but with a hint of a tremble in it.

“Are you . . . nervous?”

“I’m mostly excited,” she said, and he could hear the breathless quality of her voice. “Full of anticipation. My belly—and other parts of me—are tingling with it. I’ve been trying to get you to touch me for a week now.”

He knew. He just hadn’t had the courage until she’d more or less seduced him in the library. His exploring hand shifted upward and hit the edge of her shirt. He fisted it, drawing the material away from her body, imagining the material pulled taut against her breasts, outlining her nipples.

Nipples that he had carte blanche to touch. Another surge of need rose through him, and he felt pre-cum sliding down the head of his cock, soaking the front of his boxers. Any minute now, he’d lose control. He had to pace himself.

Breathing deeply to calm his body, Hunter forced himself to relax.

“If you want to take that shirt off me, you’re going to have to do it on your own. I can’t help you, remember?” He heard the sound of her fingers drumming on the wood of the headboard as a reminder.

“I thought I was in charge here?” he bit back.

“You are. I’m just bossy even if I’m supposed to be all submissive,” she said, her voice saucy. “You can always spank me for being bad, if you want.”

He groaned at the visual. “Gretchen, please. I need to keep control.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry in the slightest. “I’ll just lay here and be quiet. All silent and needy and half-naked, but very willing to be fully naked if given the opportunity.”

His hand clenched tighter on the shirt, feeling the old fabric give a little. “What if I ripped this off you?”

Her breath caught in her throat. “That would be extremely naughty of you. I’m game.”

Hunter tugged harder at the fabric and heard a satisfying rip, as well as Gretchen’s intake of breath, followed by a mischievous giggle. Then he was holding the loose fabric in his hand and he tossed it aside.

“You going to rip my panties next?”

He flexed his hand, feeling her thigh next to his on the large bed. He didn’t remember what her panties looked like. They’d been swallowed up by the oversized shirt. His mind was suddenly full of mental images of Gretchen in sexy panties, an image he liked very much. “Are they sexy?”

“Mmm, not really. They’re boy shorts with a bit of lace. I wasn’t really coming here expecting to get laid, so I didn’t pack my best.”

“I . . . don’t know what boy shorts are.”

“Then yes, they’re incredibly, ultra sexy.”

“Then I shouldn’t rip them.” He was starting to get the hang of her teasing. In the darkness, it was a bit easier. Maybe she’d known that, and that was why she’d insisted on the lights being off.

He reached for her on the bed and, after a bit of awkward fumbling, touched a soft material that crossed over her thighs. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and began to drag them downward, his mind full of thoughts of earlier this afternoon, when he’d done the same thing and buried his face between her legs.

She’d liked that. God, he’d liked it also, but he had to pace himself. Had to. He intended on making this last long enough for him to get his fill. He might never have such an opportunity again. So he slid them down her legs and tossed them onto the floor.

His mind was suddenly filled with images of Gretchen, stretched out and naked on the bed. For him. His cock was rock hard in his boxers. She’d said he could explore her. Would it count as exploring if he ripped off his own boxers and sank deep inside her? No. She’d given him permission to touch. No more, no less. He’d take that and be grateful.

“You’re quiet,” she said.

“Just thinking.”

“Uh-oh. Good thinking or bad thinking?”

“Thinking about you. Good thinking.”

“Sexy thinking, I hope.”

“Thinking about where to touch you next.”

“Wellllll,” she drawled. “I’m told my feet are quite ugly. I’d advise against heading in that direction.”

“Nothing on you is ugly,” he said, meaning it. He’d change nothing about her.

“Perhaps you did not see my feet,” she said, amused.

He reached for her foot, determined to prove her wrong, and cupped her heel. He was immediately distracted by the size of her foot. She was small in comparison to him. His thumb ran along the underside of her foot, and then he slid his fingers over the arch. “Feels lovely to me.”

She shivered underneath his touch. “Your fingers are ticklish.”

“Should I stop?”

“No. It’s not a bad ticklish. Just . . . makes me shiver.”

Hunter felt an insane urge to lean in and kiss the top of her foot. Would her skin be soft there? He leaned in and brushed his lips over it to find out.

Her breath whooshed. A soft moan touched his ears. “Oh, okay. That feels pretty good.”

His fingers slid up her calf, exploring her skin. “You’re very soft, Gretchen.”

“Mmm, yeah. I’m pretty soft all over, I hear. All those hours at the computer and stuff. It doesn’t exactly lend itself to tons of muscles. Gardening seems to be working for you, though. That’s one amazing six-pack I saw when you got out of the shower.”

Her endless chatter was light and irreverent, and he suspected she was keeping up a steady stream of conversation to keep him at ease. It was working, too. He chuckled. “I don’t just garden, you know. I have a gym and I work out daily.”

He felt her shift, and she was suddenly sitting up in the bed. Her hands reached out, patting his shoulders in the darkness. “Holy crap, Hunter. Did you just laugh?” Her searching fingers touched his cheek. “I’m so bummed. I finally got you to laugh and I didn’t get to see it.”

Hunter stilled under her touch. Her fingers were touching his scarred cheek. The urge to push her hands away was strong, and he had to fight to remain still.

Her fingers hesitated on him. “Does this bother you? My touch?”

Yes, he wanted to say. He forced himself to swallow and answer instead, “Go ahead.”

Her fingers lightly touched his cheek again, tracing the line of his jaw, and then moving over the crease of one of his deepest scars. She continued, moving to his mouth and where the line of it extended unevenly. It’d been reconstructed during surgery, and he knew it twisted his smile. That was one of many reasons why he never did smile.

“I don’t find you ugly, Hunter. No one who knew you could.” Her voice was achingly soft. “If anything, I’m grateful that you have these scars, because they saved you for me—for this moment in time. And that’s a little selfish of me, isn’t it? And yet I can’t help but feel that way.”

His heart ached with the sweetness of her words. Hunter reached for her, cupping Gretchen’s cheek in his hand and drawing her forward. He wanted to kiss her. Their noses mashed together awkwardly, and he heard her giggle. He didn’t care. He liked that nothing was ever serious to her—it made him feel like there was less pressure on him to be perfect, to do this right. His Gretchen wouldn’t mind.

Hunter’s mouth slanted over hers, his lips placed in haphazard fashion against her own. It didn’t matter—she still tasted sweet, her lips soft. This time he was the aggressor, sucking on her lower lip until she parted her mouth, and then he stroked his tongue inside.

She moaned, and her tongue met his. Her hands curled in his hair, and she pressed her body up against him, even as they continued to kiss. Her nipples scraped against his chest, and his breath exploded in a rush.

She gasped, pulling back from him. “Too much?”

He groaned. It had almost been. Pressing a hand to his forehead, he took a moment to recover. Her fingers stroked and petted him, trying to comfort. Instead, it was just driving him crazier. He pried one of her hands off him and kissed her palm. “Isn’t this supposed to be on the headboard?”

“Oooh, right. I got distracted.” She laughed. “Guess you’ll have to spank me, huh?” The bed bounced, and her leg brushed against his. She’d flipped onto her stomach. After a moment, she announced, “Hands are now back in place. Do with me as you will.”

“I’m not going to spank you.” Though his hands itched to touch her ass.

“You’re no fun.”

And she was entirely too much fun, he thought to himself. His hands moved to her thigh and he trailed up her leg, then brushed over the fullness of her ass.

She made a pleased noise. “Mmmm. Keep going.”

He groaned at the sheer pleasure of being able to touch her. Both hands went to her ass and he cupped it, kneading her soft flesh. His cock ached so fucking much now that it was painful, but he couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Nor could he resist sliding a finger between her cheeks and exploring her. He found the wet heat of her sex . . . and she was soaked.

The change in her was immediate. Gretchen moaned and pushed back against his fingers, and one slid deep inside her. Oh, God, she was so hot and wet. Her inner muscles clenched around his finger, and he imagined his cock being squeezed by those muscles and—

With a groan, he came. Hot cum splashed inside his boxers—fuck, he was still in his goddamn boxers—and he withdrew from her to clutch at himself in dismay. He’d tried so hard to keep control and he’d ruined this.

She made a noise of protest as he pulled away. “Hunter?”

He rolled off the bed, humiliated. Damn it. He’d fucked this up. The front of his boxers clung to him with the evidence of his shame.

“Hunter? Where are you? Please don’t leave.” Her voice was soft.

“I . . . I can’t stay. I . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. I came all over myself like a boy.

“But your touch feels so good. And I ache so bad.” He heard the blankets rustle. “Won’t you come touch me?”

“Gretchen,” he said harshly. “I . . . need to clean up.” There. Now he’d admitted it and she would leave him alone.

“After you clean up, will you come back and finish touching me?”

Astonishment made him turn, even though it was dark and he couldn’t see her face. Wasn’t she embarrassed by his lack of control? “You still want me to touch you?”

“Hey, you got yours. I want to get mine.”

“But that’s not how this works. I wanted to make it good for you.”

“And I intend on you making it good for me,” she said. “No sense in us stopping now if we’re having fun. And I thought we were having fun.”

“Some of us were having too much fun,” he said wryly, her good humor restoring his.

“Oh, my God, did you just make a joke? I should leave you in the dark all the time.”

“Very funny.”

“I know. I’m full of sparkling humor. Sparkling humor and soft, soft skin that you need to come over here and touch.”

He heard the bedsheets rustle again. “I think there’s a stack of towels on the chair by the fireplace. Fix yourself up and come back to me. I’m just going to wait right here.”

Hunter found the stack of towels and stripped off his boxers, then wiped himself off. He still felt a little foolish, but then Gretchen made a needy little moan and his attention riveted back to her.

“Are you coming back?” she asked.

He approached the bed, extending a hand forward once he crossed the room. His hand encountered Gretchen’s upraised flank since she’d changed positions on the bed. Skimming a hand over her, he mentally pictured her new pose—she was now kneeling on the bed, her ass raised in the air, knees spread. Asking—no, begging—for him to touch her.

Hunter groaned.

“Touch me, Hunter. Use your fingers on me.”

He didn’t want to use his fingers—he wanted to use his mouth and taste her sweetness again. He pushed forward, leaning in to skim his lips over her buttock, enjoying her quick, noisy intake of breath. He wanted more of a response from her, wanted her to lose control like he had.

It had suddenly become his new goal.

Hunter nipped at her hip, and she gave a squeak of surprise. That was better. He let his lips trail over her skin, moving toward his goal. He felt her body tense with anticipation when he leaned her forward and skimmed his fingers between her legs, searching for that wet heat he’d felt before.

He knew he’d touched the right spot when he felt that slick clench of muscles in response and felt her entire body jump. Gretchen moaned his name, sounding breathless and wild. He moved his mouth to where his fingers had found her hot core, and he brushed his tongue up against it, tasting her. She tasted wet and tart with need; it was a taste he wanted on his tongue forever.

A shudder racked through Gretchen, and he brushed his tongue against her skin again, seeking her heat.

“Oh, God.” She jerked against him. “Right there. Oh, keep going.” She quivered against him as he continued to work her pussy with his tongue, stroking inside her and flicking at her sex. She rocked against him wildly, and his fingers dug into her flesh, his excitement building with hers.

“More, Hunter,” she breathed. “I need more.”

He stabbed his tongue into her, pressing forward with every stroke, until she was whimpering against him and little quivers were rocking through her body.

“My clit, baby,” she instructed him. “Get my clit for me, baby.”

Her excitement had ignited his cock—already he was rock hard again. He wouldn’t last long, either. With every quiver and moan she made, he felt a shudder of desire rock through him as well. But he wanted to make sure she came before he lost his control again.

He did as she’d instructed, reaching between her legs and finding the slick folds of her sex from the front. He slid his fingertips between them, searching for her clit. Her sharp cry echoed in the room the moment he made contact, and she writhed against him. The sound she made was incoherent with need.

And hell, he wanted more of that. So he rubbed her clit between his fingers and worked it even as he continued to tongue her pussy, lapping up her juices.

She made a throaty cry and then gave a full-body shudder, racked with tremors. New moisture flooded against his mouth, and he groaned in response, his own pleasure rocketing forth.

He’d made her come so hard. It was the most incredible feeling in the fucking world. He pulled away while she panted, trying to get her breath back, and lightly kissed her buttock. She’d given him a gift tonight.

And he’d come in his boxers and now on the side of her blankets. Hell. He was just a fucking mess. He pulled away and grabbed another towel.

Still a goddamn virgin. He couldn’t even wait to be inside her to finish.

“Mmmm, Hunter?” she called after him a moment later, sounding sated. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

He’d actually contemplated just that. “I’m not . . . I fucked this up.”

“Fucked it up how?”

He was silent.

“Hunter, if it’s because you’re still a virgin, don’t worry about it. We’ll take our time. I’m kind of enjoying endless amounts of foreplay.” She chuckled to herself. “You didn’t bring a condom with you tonight, did you?”

“No,” he admitted.

“Well, then, there’s no sense in hating on yourself, is there? No glove, no love. It’s probably a good thing that we never got further than the heavy petting. Now, come on.” He heard her pat the mattress. “I kind of felt like cuddling, if you’re game.”

Spend the rest of the evening with his hands on her naked body? She didn’t even have to ask. He finished toweling himself clean again and then reapproached the bed. He tossed the now-messy blanket off the side, hesitated a moment, then took a deep breath and slid under the sheet next to her.

She immediately moved forward and tucked her arms around him, laying her cheek on his chest again.

“That was incredible,” she told him in a soft voice. “Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you,” he said gruffly.

“Mmm, I don’t know. You have a very talented mouth.” She yawned. “Don’t sneak away on me again, okay?”

He ran his fingers through her hair, thinking that this was quite possibly the best place in the universe to be. “I won’t.”

***

When Hunter woke up, he thought it had all been a dream. Exploring and touching Gretchen, making her writhe with desire. The way she’d been so open and sexual with him.

The tousled hair on the pillow next to him told him that this was reality.

Hunter reached out and brushed a lock off her face, watching her sleep with a feeling in his chest that was something close to gratitude but more like . . . elation. God, he loved touching her. Being with her. There was no one on earth more wonderful than Gretchen. The fact that this gorgeous woman would let him touch her—hell, wanted to be touched by him—was a miracle.

He wanted to do something for her. His first instinct was to go and trim every one of his roses and shower her with them. But he gave her roses every day. It wouldn’t be special enough.

He needed more. He’d have to give this some thought.

She mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over in the bed, her red hair spreading over her pillow. He longed to touch her again, but she was sleeping so peacefully that he didn’t want to disturb her. He’d get up and work out instead. Maybe when he was done, she’d be awake and they could spend some time together.

Now he sounded like a ridiculous, lovesick fool. But for some reason, he didn’t mind it.

They still hadn’t slept together—not really, not officially. He was still a virgin. But Gretchen hadn’t minded. We’ll take our time, she’d told him. There’s no rush.

He’d woken up with a stiff cock and raging need for her. He suspected that he was going to wake up like that from now on—desperate with the need to bury himself inside her. He wouldn’t, though. Not while she was sleeping and didn’t have the opportunity to tell him no.

Hunter rolled over in bed. He drew back immediately. “What the fuck—”

A hideous creature was staring at him, all wrinkly face, large golden eyes, and triangular ears. A skinny, naked tail swished back and forth on the nightstand like a piece of rope flicking in the wind.

“Mmm?” At his side, Gretchen stirred, and then she chuckled. “I see you met Igor.”

He stared at the creature. “This is your cat?”

“It is.”

“He’s naked.”

She laughed, and her hand slid over his stomach, caressing his skin. “That makes three of us, then.”

His cock reared in response to her touch, and Hunter groaned. “Gretchen, don’t—”

“Don’t touch you? Did someone wake up with morning wood?” Her sense of humor seemed to be alive and well this morning. She lifted the blanket up and peeked underneath, then gave a long, gusty sigh of pleasure. “Mmm, you sure did.”

“Can you blame me?” God, she was gorgeous. That naked skin, that beautiful hair that was spilling all over her shoulders, the blankets just barely covering her breasts from his view. He wanted to touch her, his hands flexing with the need of it.

“So it’s my fault?” She shook her head, a coy smile touching her lips. “Guess I should take care of it for you, shouldn’t I?”

And before he could even utter anything, she disappeared under the blankets.

Hunter stiffened, surprise locking him into place.

A warm hand clasped the base of his cock and a hot mouth moved over the head. He felt Gretchen’s tongue swirl over it and he collapsed against the pillows. “Gretchen, I . . . oh, fuck. You’re amazing. So amazing.”

“I know,” she murmured, her words muffled. And then she took him deep into her mouth and began to suck.

God, she was the most amazing woman. He groaned again as she began to work his cock, his hands fisting in the blankets. He wanted to reach down and touch her, but he didn’t want to disturb her. Not when she was doing something so incredibly perfect. Her mouth was like heaven on his cock.

He glanced over at the nightstand, suddenly disturbed that her cat might be watching him get a blowjob, but it was gone. Thank God for that.

She sucked him harder, and he couldn’t resist a little thrust into her mouth, his hips pushing up. That small movement reminded him that he wasn’t going to last, and he told her that. True to form, Gretchen didn’t move away from him. Instead, she redoubled her efforts, taking him deep in her throat and making little noises of pleasure from under the blanket, as if she loved nothing more than to suck on him.

That image, combined with the feel of her on his cock and the tickle of her long hair on his skin, sent him over far too quickly. He came with a shout of her name.

She came up from under the blankets with an impish look on her face. “Just a little something to start the day off right.”

“The day started off right when I woke up and saw you.”

Her face softened and she smiled at him, then poked him with a finger. “Keep saying stuff like that and it’s going to be very hard to get rid of me.”

That was fine with him. He had no intention of ever letting her go.

***

Gretchen’s pleasant, relaxed mood disappeared the moment she went into the library to work. She’d left her phone on the secretary last night and saw that she’d received several voice messages since she’d last checked it.

The first one was from her agent asking if she had finished the Astronaut Bill manuscript. The publisher was waiting on it and getting very upset. If she didn’t turn it in within the next week, the book would have to be pushed and the publication schedule—including her payments—would be juggled. Kat needed Gretchen to call back ASAP.

She deleted it.

The next message was from her apartment manager. Rent was due two days ago and they hadn’t received her check. Had she forgotten?

She hadn’t. She just didn’t have the money yet. She’d signed the contract for this project, but the check still had not come in. Frustrating, but nothing she could do about it except call her landlord and explain that she could mail them a check, but they couldn’t cash it until she was paid. They wouldn’t be keen on it, but they knew she was a writer and that payments were few and far between. She’d had to make arrangements like that before.

The third message was from Cooper. Gretchen listened to it with a growing feeling of dread. The message was friendly and pleasant. Cooper wanted to know how her project was going and that he was looking forward to seeing her again, and did she possibly want to get together this weekend just to hang out and catch up?

She deleted that message, too, and barely resisted burying her face in her hands. The situation with Cooper was a sticky one. He was a friend—a good friend—and had been since college. Unfortunately, he was more like the wimpy little brother she never had, rather than the strong, silent, almost lonely type that she seemed to fall for.

Gretchen put her phone down and thought dreamily about Hunter. Last night had been . . . delicious. The endless foreplay was fun, but she had a craving ache deep within that told her that she wanted more. Time to tell Hunter to buy some condoms. She wondered how he’d like that. Her virgin billionaire didn’t seem to like to go out in public and she suspected the scars were the reason why. He’d probably just delegate the task to Eldon.

And Eldon would disapprove. He disapproved of everything.

The phone rang as she held it, and Gretchen picked up the call automatically. “Hello?”

“Gretchen, honey, tell me you’re hitting send on that Astronaut Bill manuscript as we speak?”

She winced. “Hey, Kat. And um, it’s not done. I still need another week or two.”

“Gretch! You told me you’d have it done in a week . . . two weeks ago.”

“I know. This other project has been a little more . . . time consuming than I thought it would be.” There was that, and the fact that she spent every spare moment trying to seduce the owner of the house she was staying in. But Hunter was just so deliciously bleak and fascinating. She couldn’t stay away from him. Was he in his greenhouse even now, selecting a rose while thinking of her? Why did that make her panties instantly wet just to think about?

“Well, can’t you put the project aside for a few days and finish this other one? Just have Bill shag Uranus in her anus and send it off.”

“Uranea and the publisher would freak out if I threw in butt sex.”

“Whatever, and the publisher’s freaking out right now because you’re grossly overdue. Gretchen, they’re going to fire you if you don’t get this book in. I’m your agent. I’m supposed to tell you when you’re doing bad career moves, right? This is a bad one. Very bad. Can you just sit down and hammer out a few chapters for me? Please?” Kat’s voice turned wheedling. “So I don’t have to make an ugly phone call about how my favorite client didn’t hit her deadline again?”

Gretchen pulled her laptop open and sighed. “I’m pulling up the document as we speak, Kat. I promise.”

“Good. Think you can send it to me by tomorrow?”

“Ummm.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

“Okay.”

“Since I have you on the phone, I did have a chat with Preston.” Kat paused for dramatic effect.

Gretchen racked her brain for a moment. “Preston Stewart’s the editor for the new publisher, right? What was the name again?”

“That’s him. Bellefleur Publishing.”

“Uh-huh. Did they ask for me because the Astronaut Bill stuff is pulp and I’m used to writing in some sex?”

“Huh? What does that have to do with anything?”

“The letters. Does he know these are dirty letters?”

Kat spluttered. “Say what?”

“I’m serious! The trunk is full of letters between a gal named Lula and her boyfriend, Ben. It took years for them to be together, and so apparently they spent all that time in-between visits sending dirty recaps to each other. Want me to read you a page?”

“Dirty letters? Are you sure?”

Gretchen picked up the letter on the top of the pile. “My dearest Ben. I woke up this morning, my woman’s flesh aching with need for you. I dreamed that you were deep inside me, your rod—”

“Okay, okay!” Kat laughed wildly. “Oh, man. Well, that’s going to be a wicked cool marketing angle, that’s for sure.”

“If you say so,” Gretchen said, amused. “Apparently these two lovebirds went to a lot of Victorian house parties and used every excuse to sneak off and make out while there. They’re kind of creative with things. It’s rather inspiring.”

“I’ll say. Anyhow, back to Preston. He’s super excited about your book, too. How’s it feel to be a lead title, kiddo?”

“I . . . haven’t given it much thought.”

“You haven’t?” Kat gasped. “What’s going on with you, Gretchen?”

“I’ve been, um, distracted. I met a guy.”

“A guy? Audrey told me all about that horrible butler. Don’t tell me you fell for him?”

“Jeez, Kat, when did you talk to Audrey?”

“We went for lunch the other day. I had some books for her to pick up for the charity and we ended up going out for drinkies.”

“I think I need to widen my social circle,” Gretchen muttered. “And no, I didn’t fall for the butler. But I just might be kinda-sorta shagging his boss.”

“You what? The billionaire?”

Count on Kat to be fascinated by the amount of money he had instead of asking anything about him. Gretchen rolled her eyes. “He’s different, Kat. I like him.”

“Of course you like him. He’s rich!”

“Can we talk about something other than how much he makes?”

“Sure. What kind of car does he drive?”

“Not funny. I like him because he’s different, not because he’s rich.”

“I’m just teasing you, Gretchen. It’s good that you met someone. I just wish he wasn’t directly tied to the job you’re doing. As your agent, that makes me a little uncomfortable.”

“It’s not like he’s actually involved in the project,” Gretchen told her. “He just happens to own the house the letters were found in.”

“Very, very dirty letters. You sure you’re not getting inspired by these dirty letters?”

“Give me a little credit?”

“Just a little. I’d like to meet this guy.”

“We’re just fooling around, Kat. It’s not like this is anything official.”

“I don’t care. I still want to meet him. Maybe he has a sexy younger brother.”

“He’s an only child. But I’ll see what I can do about getting some friends together. This house would be a great place to entertain.” Though, the thought of entertaining would probably drive Eldon to drink.

Kat squealed. “Oooh, maybe we can do a Victorian house party! We can invite your editor so he can get excited about the progress you’re making on the book.”

“I don’t know—”

“And the publicist! And a photographer. Think of the angle we can spin on things to get some in-house excitement.”

“I don’t know if the owner of the house is going to be particularly excited about this. He’s pretty reclusive. And by pretty, I mean completely.”

“So, you can just take him into a closet and play Seven Minutes in Heaven or something. Victorian house party coming up! So where’s my invite?”

Gretchen sighed. “Let me work on him, Kat.”

“Tell him it’ll be good for your career. You need as much in-house support as you can get.”

“We’ll see.” But for some reason she was thinking less about her career and more about dragging Hunter into a closet and rocking his socks off. A smile curved her mouth. Maybe this party thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

***

“Oh, Astronaut Bill, what can we do? The universe is doomed for sure. The solarship with the cargo full of super-plutonium is headed straight for the galaxy warp. If we can’t get on board somehow, it’ll cut across space and head straight for the planet of my people, Vifraxa. Billions will be doomed.” She wiped unhappy tears from her shining blue eyes. “You must find a way to save them.”

Bill’s strong hands clenched on the railing of the deck. He turned and stared at his captain’s chair, furious. “We’ll find a way to stop them.” He snapped his fingers. “I have it! All we need to do is—”

Is . . .

Gretchen drummed her fingers, waiting for an idea—however stupid—to come to her.

And waited.

And waited.

Damn it. Nothing. She consulted the outline she’d turned in to her publisher. The storyline with the Vifraxans in danger was a new one and not included. Damn it, damn it.

She was stuck. She supposed she could backtrack a few chapters and delete the subplot and move back to the original storyline, but if she did, she’d lose an entire day’s worth of work.

She continued to drum her fingers, thinking. The trunk of letters lay open, waiting for her to turn to them, but she’d promised Kat that she’d try and knock out the rest of Astronaut Bill. Her gaze swung to her purse, where her phone hung out of one side.

An idea wormed its way into her head. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Gretchen pulled her purse into her lap and began to dig through its contents.

A few minutes later, she had what she was looking for, and smiled. In the corner of one back pocket was an individually wrapped condom. Expiration date? Not until next year.

Hot damn.

She tucked it into the pocket of her favorite yoga pants and bounded out of the library.

Perhaps it was time to take a quick break and see what Hunter was up to.

***

To her surprise, he wasn’t in the greenhouse. It was empty, the roses blooming in the heavy, warm moisture-laden air. Gretchen turned around and headed to his room, knocking on the door. Not there, either.

She knew he had a gym on the premises, but not where it was. The house was too large for her to spend all day exploring. Frustrated, Gretchen spotted a phone on a table at the far end of the hall and headed for it. She picked up the receiver, and then paused.

She had no idea what Hunter’s phone number was. Actually, she didn’t know all that much about him other than the basics: He was lonely, he was scarred, and she loved to make him blush.

All right then, she’d learn more about him . . . right after she seduced him. Again. It wasn’t her fault, she told herself. The man was just completely seduce-able and utterly delicious. She couldn’t help herself. Even now, her fingers itched to curl into one of those starchy collars on his shirts and rip it open so she could slide a hand inside and touch his hot skin.

Her mouth watered just thinking about it. Gretchen stared at the receiver and sighed. She was going to have to do the inevitable, it seemed. With a sour frown, she hit zero to dial her least favorite person in the world.

Eldon answered on the third ring. Instead of hello, he said, “What are you doing in the north wing?”

“Hello to you, too. I’m looking for Hunter. He’s not in his room and not in the greenhouse. Any idea where he would be?”

“I’m not his keeper.”

She snorted to herself. You think you are. “I know you’re not. Can’t you just tell me where he is?”

“Why?”

“I’m going to go deflower him.” She smiled to herself at the butler’s outraged splutter. “Hey, you asked. Now, seriously, where is he?”

“You’re a vile young woman.”

“Yeah, well, you’re kind of a dick yourself.” When he spluttered again, she sighed. “Look, Eldon, I just want to spend some time with your boss. I don’t think he’d be keen on you keeping information from me. You may not like me, but he does. So spill the beans or I’m going to tell him you’re trying to keep us apart.”

There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the phone. Then he said, “Did you look in his office?”

It sounded like Eldon was spitting the words out of his mouth as if they tasted bad. “No, where’s his office at?”

“Second floor, west wing. Third door on right.” He hung up.

“Grumpy, grumpy,” she said to herself, hanging up the receiver. With a cheerful saunter, she headed for the west wing and went up the stairs. The door to his office was easy enough to find—there were not many doors in the West Wing, which meant that these were large rooms instead of the hall where she slept, a long corridor full of doors that were guest rooms.

She hesitated in front of the door and then knocked.

“Enter,” Hunter called from within.

Bingo.

Gretchen opened the door halfway and slid inside, shutting it behind her. There was a lock on the door and she turned it. Good. She didn’t want Eldon barging in on them.

Hunter’s office was surprising to her. While the rest of the house was decorated in a Victorian, almost Rococo ornate elegance, the office was spare and gray. The walls were painted a pale, wintry shade. Photos of buildings of every kind and shape covered the walls. An enormous TV on the far end of the room was turned to a financial channel, and the ticker moved quietly across the screen, the volume down. To the left of Hunter’s desk was an entire panel of windows that overlooked the gardens. There was a long, curving balcony there, and she imagined that he stepped outside in the summer to look over his beautiful, blooming plants.

The most surprising thing to her was that Hunter’s desk faced the far wall . . . and an enormous mirror. How very odd. She wouldn’t have thought Hunter, of all people, would work facing a mirror.

He looked up as she closed the door, glancing at her in the mirror, desk phone in hand. Confusion showed on his face. “Gretchen?”

“Hey. You busy?”

He set the phone down in the cradle and turned his chair to face her. “Just have a few meetings today I can’t reschedule. What are you doing here?”

She took a few steps forward, her hips swaying. Her hand went to the corner of his desk and she ran a finger along the edge of the wood. “I thought I’d come by and devirgin you.”

His brows furrowed together. “What?”

“Your virginity—I’ve come to take it.” She pulled the condom from her pocket and held it aloft like a trophy. “Unless you’re not interested, of course.”

“What happened to going slow?” His face was thunderstruck, his gaze darting to the condom she held tucked between two fingers.

That wasn’t a no. Gretchen moved forward, pressing her knee between his legs on the chair and sliding forward until her breasts were in his face. “I promise to go slow, if that makes you feel any better?”

“Gretchen—”

“The way I figure it is that we’ve been going about this all wrong. I thought taking it nice and slow would make you feel more comfortable, but now I’m thinking we should treat this like ripping off a Band-Aid—make it rough and fast so you won’t overthink things.” She removed her knee and slid down until her elbows were resting on his knees. His cock was already getting hard in his slacks, tenting the front. “Parts of you are interested at least.”

“All of me is interested, Gretchen,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But I have a conference call in two minutes and I can’t reschedule it.”

“Mmm.” She trailed a finger over his groin. “I can stick around, you know. I promise to be quiet.”

“I won’t be able to concentrate—”

She put a finger to her lips, smiling, even as his phone rang.

With a muttered oath, he grabbed her and spun her around, dragging her ass down to his lap. He pulled his chair in, tucking their legs under the desk, and grabbed the phone. “Hunter Buchanan here.”

Gretchen wiggled slightly in his lap, keeping quiet. His cock was already hard underneath her ass, and getting harder by the minute. His thighs were thick and rather strong, and she liked that, she decided, tucking her legs over his knees to spread her ass cheeks a bit more. She leaned forward on his desk and gave a bit of a wiggle again, so her pussy would rub up against his cock.

Immediately, Hunter reached past her and hit the mute button on his phone. He groaned, his free hand going to her hip. “Don’t move like that. Please.”

“I’ll be good,” she promised in a voice that told him she’d be anything but.

He clicked off mute, giving her a warning look. “No, I’m here. Go on.”

Gretchen propped her chin up on her hands, glancing around at Hunter’s desk while he discussed a property acquisition with whoever else was on the line. His hand remained at her hip, his thumb lightly rubbing back and forth as he talked. It was hard to be still, especially when she could feel the thick length of him nestled against her pussy, but the conversation seemed to be an important one—they were discussing how many millions of dollars to offer for a shopping mall—and so she tried not to disturb him.

His desk was rather austere. Most people had small trinkets or personal possessions on their desks to mark them as theirs. Gretchen’s desk at home was covered with knick-knacks, postcards of exotic places, and a stack of unpaid bills. Hunter’s desk was spotlessly clean, and the only photo he had on his desk was of yet another building that she didn’t recognize. He sure did like pictures of buildings. On one corner of the desk was a single rose—matching the one he’d given her that day—in a slim crystal vase. Since he wasn’t using his computer, she tapped his mouse to get rid of the screen saver and glanced at his desktop. Jeez, he hadn’t even changed it from the factory setting. Boring. She opened his Internet browser and looked for a desktop wallpaper that would suit him, and ended up picking something that was a gorgeous shot of roses sparkling with dew. There. At least that was something.

She glanced over at the mirror, studying it. It didn’t make sense that a man as concerned with his appearance would want a big full-length mirror directly in front of his desk. “Why the mirror?” she whispered.

He tilted the phone away from his mouth so only she could hear his response. “So I never forget who—and what—I am.”

“That’s depressing,” she told him, and then rolled her eyes when he shushed her. “You know who does that? Emo people.”

“Uh-huh,” Hunter said, but his response wasn’t for her. His fingers had moved slightly up her waistband and had moved to her skin. He now grazed her skin over and over as he alternately talked and listened. “How many inspectors did you send out?”

That small touch on her skin was driving her crazy. Gretchen leaned forward on his desk, glancing up in the mirror. Hunter’s gaze was on her, his focus intense. He had the phone to his ear, but it was clear his attention was riveted to her. She felt her pulse begin to thrum with excitement, and she gave her thighs a little squeeze to see his reaction.

His eyes widened and he tilted his head back against his chair, as if trying to keep control. “Mmmhmm.”

She could hear the strain in his voice even as he answered the person on the other end of the phone.

“Go on.”

She was pretty sure he hadn’t been talking to her, but she decided to feign ignorance. Gretchen glanced across the desk at the mirror on the far wall and decided to take the teasing in another direction. She pulled her shirt over her head, tossed it on the ground, and cupped her breasts through her bra.

He pushed forward, pinning her against the desk as he reached for the mute button again. “You’re not playing fair, Gretchen.”

“You told me to go on,” she said, tweaking her nipples.

“Goddamn it.” His gaze was riveted on her breasts. “I’m going to have to fight fire with fire, aren’t I?”

“I wish you would,” she breathed, excited at the prospect.

His hand on her hip moved forward, between her legs, his gaze on her in the mirror.

She arched her back, letting him know that he was heading in the right direction, and spread her legs a little wider on his lap.

“I’m a very busy man,” he said in a husky voice, the phone still on mute. “I can’t afford these distractions.”

“Of course not,” she said innocently.

His hand slipped into her panties, his fingers seeking out her wet heat. He groaned when his fingers touched her pussy. “You’re soaked already.”

“Thinking about you gets me hot,” she said, teasing one bra strap down her shoulder. “Can’t help myself.”

Hunter’s fingers caressed her folds, exploring her. One fingertip grazed her clit, and she was unable to keep herself from crying out in response.

He jerked forward, cradling the phone against his ear, his other hand still trapped in her panties and pushing against her flesh. He released the mute button and growled into the phone, “I’m going to have to drop off the call. Someone send me the meeting minutes.”

And he hung up. The look on his face was hard and almost forbidding. “You’re derailing my plans, Gretchen.”

She kept the smile pinned to her face, though she couldn’t tell if he was furious at her or not. “You derailed mine. I kept thinking about you and couldn’t get any work done.”

And she gave one of her breasts a squeeze just to distract him.

“Clearly you need a taste of your own medicine.” His fingers moved across her clit again, and she jerked in his lap, that little touch sending skitters of pleasure through her body.

“Is this your idea of punishment?” Her laugh was breathless with need.

“Actually, I just want to touch you,” he whispered in her ear. His hand moved to cover hers over her breast, and his fingers danced against her clit.

She shifted her hips to push him to the exact spot that would send her wild with pleasure, since his seeking fingers kept coming close but weren’t quite there. “Then touch me all you want.”

And she rolled her hips against him, bearing down against his cock.

He groaned, his hand tightening against her breast. His fingers began to move rapidly against her clit, stroking back and forth in slick little motions that made her breath hitch in her throat. “Gretchen, I don’t know how long I’ll last with you on my lap like this.”

“Then maybe we should get that condom on you,” she agreed breathlessly. “And then I can get back on your lap after you put it on.”

He pushed his chair backward so they were no longer pinned to his desk.

Gretchen got off his lap and produced the condom again, kneeling between his legs in front of his chair. His cock seemed enormous, the tent in his pants straining, and she sighed blissfully at the sight. Her hands pulled at his belt, ready to put on the condom him.

He stopped her, his hand covering hers. “I can do this. I want you to get naked.”

So very authoritative. She shivered, standing up and tugging at the laced waistband of her yoga pants. Gretchen pulled the knot free, then shimmied the pants down her legs, letting them drop to the ground. She’d worn her cutest pair of panties today—hot pink silk with little black bows at the hips.

They, too, went to the ground.

His belt quickly followed, and then he was dragging his pants down his hips, along with his boxers. His cock jutted into the air, and she licked her lips with the sight of it. A moment later, he was smoothing the condom down the length of it, and then he turned his eyes aching with need on her.

“Sit down again,” he told her, the tightness in his throat her only indication of his nerves.

She unhooked her bra and tossed it to the ground, then slid in front of him. She turned to face the desk, her bare ass presented to him. And then, slowly, Gretchen sat back down on his lap, his cock a hot bar of iron pressing against her backside.

“Take me inside you, Gretchen.”

She lifted her hips and positioned him at her entrance. When she looked in the mirror, she saw his gaze was not on her, but on the spot where their two bodies would join. He wanted to watch his cock sink into her. The thought was a deliciously scandalous one, and she descended slowly, moving inch by inch to take him inside her.

He groaned, his fingers clutching her hips tightly as she began to work him into her. “Ah, fuck,” he gritted. “You feel amazing.”

She rolled her hips a little, taking him deeper, but moving slowly—he was thick and exquisite and she wanted to drag this out for both his pleasure and hers. Her gaze strayed to the mirror, fascinated by the fact that she got to watch his face. The scars on the side of his face stood out white against the flush of his skin, and his face seemed full of tension.

And then she’d taken him all the way into her, her legs straddling his, her ass against his stomach.

His forehead pressed to her back and he groaned again, loudly. “Never thought I’d feel anything so good, Gretchen. Never.”

Her heart gave a little flip at the intensity in his voice. “The fun’s just starting,” she told him softly, and dug her hips in and rocked.

His hands clenched against her. “Ah!”

“Oh, Hunter. You’re so deep inside me. That feels unbelievable.”

“Gretchen,” he breathed raggedly.

She began to work her hips, moving slowly over him in a subtle rocking motion. She leaned forward, bracing her arms against the desk, and began to bounce her hips on him, controlling the depth of each stroke.

He groaned again, and her eyes flew to him in the mirror. He was contorted in something curiously close to ecstasy, the look on his face so open and raw and exposed that it made her heart hurt a little. When had she ever had a lover look at her quite like that?

Never.

“Touch me, Hunter,” she told him, continuing to work her hips over him. “I’ve got you. Just touch me.”

To her surprise, he pulled her back against him, until her body was flush against his chest. His hands grasped her breasts tightly, and she cried out in pleasure when his fingers teased her nipples, her head lolling back against his shoulder.

He kissed her neck even as he continued to roll her nipples. The sensation was so overwhelming that she forgot to move her hips, until he thrust into her, hard. She gasped again.

“Damn,” he groaned against her ear. “I think I like you being on top, but I want to be in charge for a bit.”

“I’m all yours,” she told him in a trembling voice.

He thrust hard again, and she whimpered, his fingers playing on her tight, aching nipples.

“Lean forward,” he told her in a voice rough with desire. “On the desk.”

Excitement pulsed through her, sending another wave of slickness through her sex. She bit her lip and tilted forward until she had her stomach pressed against the edge of the desk.

“Forward more,” he told her, rolling his chair back a few steps.

Their bodies parted, and she whimpered a protest at the loss of his cock deep inside her. But she leaned forward onto the cold, smooth surface of his desk, obedient.

She felt him come up behind her, and she tilted her head so she could watch them in the mirror. Hunter’s large body was positioned behind hers, and he pulled her thighs apart, stroking his fingers over her slick pussy, as if seeking her entrance. She cried out at the touch.

Then, Hunter’s cock was at her entrance and he thrust, hard. Gretchen’s legs were pinned against the desk, her breasts pressed against the wood. He drove into her again, and the motion was so hard that the entire desk shook. She cried out his name again. Each thrust was rough with need, and he slammed into her at just the right angle that she could have sworn he was brushing against her G-spot. “Hunter,” she cried. “Oh, God, keep doing that!”

His hand anchored on her shoulder, the other on her hip, and then he was slamming into her over and over again, his thrusts wild and undisciplined. She was being taken by a man out of control.

It was glorious. She’d never been fucked so hard.

Every time he pounded into her an involuntary groan of pleasure escaped her throat. She was so close and he hadn’t even touched her clit. “Oh, God, Hunter, keep fucking me.”

“So . . . damn . . . naughty,” he told her between rough thrusts. “You’re such a fucking tease, Gretchen.”

“I am,” she moaned. “I like teasing you. You like it, too.”

He smacked her buttock in a light spank, and the crisp bite of pain mixed with pleasure was so startling that she sucked in a deep breath, her body tensing in surprise. She glanced up in the mirror and he seemed almost as surprised as her by his actions.

His hand quickly rubbed her buttock, as if soothing the smack away, and she lifted her hips again. “Need you, Hunter.”

He obeyed. With his next thrust, she began to come, a soft, weak cry of protest escaping her throat. So fast. She hadn’t wanted to come so fast. Ah, God, it was so incredibly good, though. Her nails dug into the wood of the table as he continued to pound into her and the orgasm wasn’t stopping. He was hitting her so hard and so rough that she just kept coming and coming, her pussy spasming around him and it felt so incredible. She called his name over and over again. “Hunter! Hunter! Hunter!”

“I can feel you coming, Gretchen. Ah, damn it. You’re so tight on my cock. God, I love that.” He slammed in again and rocked deep, as if wanting to sink into her forever. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Yes,” she moaned, still shuddering with the aftermath of her extended orgasm.

“Fuck,” he bit out one last time, and then his fingers dug into her hips, hard. She looked up in the mirror and his lips were parted, teeth bared, mouth drawn back in an exaggerated grimace made alarming by the scars on his face. If it was on anyone else, it would have been frightening to see.

But it was Hunter, and his eyes were closed with ecstasy, his shoulders heaving with his breaths, and she thought he was the most gorgeous man in the world.

He rocked into her one last time, slowly, sweetly, as if reluctant to have things end. “Ah, Gretchen,” he breathed, panting. “Ah, fuck me.”

“Again?” she teased with a shaky breath. “Give a girl a moment.”

He tugged her off the desk and collapsed back in

Date: 2015-02-03; view: 517