She rinsed her paint brushes and pushed her chair back from her drafting table. The mask was nearly done. She still had two make-up sketches to do before bed, but she could do them in the living room while they ate something and watched late night TV.
Grabbing her sketchpad, she wandered into the living room, where she dropped it on the coffee table next to her laptop. Hunter was definitely still out. She looked around for her phone, tracing her steps back to the bedroom when she couldn’t find it. She was on her second lap of the small house when the front door opened and she heard Hunter’s heavy footsteps in the entrance way.
He stopped short when he saw her standing in the hallway. “Hi.”
“Hey, you,” she said softly, swishing her robe loosely around her bare legs. Hunter brought out the playful girl inside her, let her shuck off the stressed-out small business owner and just be…simple. “I’m almost done my work. I’ve got a few sketches to do, but—”
She cut herself off as he dropped the brown paper bag he was holding on the table and crossed the room in three easy strides, picking her up on the fourth step and crashing his mouth down over hers on the fifth—right before he pressed her against the wall and rocked one of his powerful thighs between her legs.
His usually soft lips were firm and demanding, pressing her mouth open so he could ravage her with his tongue. His hands found the edge of her robe and yanked, baring her quickly over-heating skin.
Who was this man? Hunter was an eager, talented lover, and a strong, capable man, but he’d never dominated her like this. Her heart slammed against her chest as he lifted her higher, effortlessly holding her against the wall as his mouth closed over her nipple. He sucked her flesh hard against his tongue, his teeth scraping her skin.
Yes, please. She whimpered and closed her eyes, and for a second, she felt his hesitation. She held her breath.
“Tell me you want this,” he rasped against her skin.
She jerked her head roughly. “Yes.”
His fingers tightened on her hips and she rocked her pelvis, but there was nothing to rub against—he was holding her against the wall and levering himself away from body. His grip grew nearly painful as he pulled at her other nipple with his mouth, sucking it to a matching, aching point. She welcomed that pinch, wriggled against it, hoping he’d leave bruises.
Her heart pounded at the unexpected pleasure. The unexpected pain.
She never wanted to forget this moment. Whatever brought it on, it was a gift to a part of her she kept locked tight, the part that wanted to be ravaged.
Back and forth he went until she was wound tight, swollen and desperate for relief. And still she swallowed her pleas for what she wanted next, because that same dirty girl hiding inside hoped he’d just somehow know what she needed.
That was a lot of faith to put in a guy who’d never hinted at any kink in his past.
But the way he set her back down and pinned her against the wall was promising. His hands blindly finding her wrists as he kissed her again, sucking her lower lip into his mouth until she felt the corresponding tug deep in her belly.
And then sensible doubt broke through the surface. She shoved her arousal away for a second and grasped for a low-hanging branch of sensible decision-making. “Hunter, hang on.”
