My eyes open in horror, and I know he can read the despair written in my gaze. “I can’t,” I whimper as a tear falls down my cheek.
“Angel, yes you can. I promise it will feel better. Just trust me.” He pushes in further and I yell. Eyes closed tight, needing to escape the burn of my flesh tearing with every inch he enters inside of me, I bite my lip and force myself to believe what he’s saying.
“I trust you,” I say, with my eyes closed. “Just take me, and don’t stop until it’s done.”
“Angel, I can’t…”
But I thrust my hips against him, making his cock enter me further. He hisses. My eyes open. Fear stares back at me. He’s scared and worried about the way he is hurting me. “I trust you. Make up for the hurt after, right? But right now, Hunter, I need you to just take.”
His forehead falls against mine, “I’m sorry,” he whispers, before he thrusts deep inside. My eyes lock with his as the burning reaches new heights. He kisses my lips gently, then whispers again, “I’m sorry, Angel, I never want to hurt you,” before he pulls out and slams back inside me harder than before.
My head falls back and I scream, but I lift my legs and wrap them around his middle letting him know to keep going. Again, he forces his length into my heat, and I scream out in pain. Once more, he pulls out and thrusts inside me, and this time I feel myself relax a little as the burning begins to subside. He moves once more, and I moan as my sex wraps around his cock like a glove. It still hurts, but the pleasure surpasses the pain as he continues to slowly pull in and out of my opening.
I purr, “Yes,” as he lets go of my wrists.
“God, Angel, your body was made for me.” He growls. “I can’t wait to feel you cum while I am buried deep inside you.” His words make my climax build just thinking about how it will feel to let go with myself wrapped around him. To fill him spill inside of me. “Your pussy is perfect. I don’t think my cock can take it.” He begins to pick up the pace, grinding his pelvis against my clit, Hunter makes my body feel like it has never felt before.
Owned. Claimed. Cherished. Loved.
“I can’t wait to cum inside you, Angel, and watch your eyes the entire time as you take it, all of it, in your tight, slick, addicting pussy.”
“Oh my God, Hunter,” I purr. My body now ready to do exactly what he says and wants even more of what he is promising to give.
“Would you like that, Angel?” He growls, as his length throbs inside of me and my orgasm quickly approaches. “Because I’m ready to give it to you. Right. Fucking. Now!”
He thrusts inside me once more, holding my stare. I scream his name as my orgasm rips through me. Seconds later, my name falls from his lips as he releases himself inside me. His pelvis rocks against my clit, his length throbs as he pulls in and out of my body over and over again milking every last drop from both of us. Eventually, his movements slow and he comes to rest deep inside me. When our breathing has evened out, he props his arm above my head. I open my eyes and notice he’s both lost and found as he stares deep into my soul.
“What did I ever do to deserve you, Angel?” he asks while he keeps us connected. “God help me, because I will spend the rest of my life trying to figure it out.”
“Is that right?” I tease.
“Damn right it’s right!” He chuckles as he gathers me in his arms.
“Well, I think I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, Catch.”
“Catch, huh?” He asks curiously.
“Mhm,” I whisper.
“How do you figure that?” He questions, before finding a strand of my hair and twirling it around his finger.
“Because you captured my heart and promised to never let it go the minute you walked into my life and made me see all I was missing.”
He laughs. But when he speaks next, his tone is serious. “No, Rochelle, you got it all wrong. You’re the catch. Me? I was just in the right place at the right time. I’m just the luckiest bastard in the world that you looked up and locked eyes with me.” He leans in, kisses my lips, and my heart soars. “I love you, Angel. Heaven help me, I love you so much it hurts.”
Chapter Fourteen
Hunter
10 years old
“Coach says if I play hard, I might even make ‘A’ team next season,” I tell excitedly. “I only have one more shot to prove myself,” She finishes putting on her makeup, rises from her vanity and spins around to check out her appearance in a nearby mirror. I watch her from my spot on her bed and wonder if I’ll ever really fit into the shoes my dad wants me to fill. My father and her were made for life in Hollywood. They carved out a place for themselves here. I couldn’t care less about following in my father’s footsteps.
“You’ll prove yourself, Son. I wouldn’t be worried about that,” my father says as he walks out of their large closet and eyes my mother. The admiration in his stare makes me wish one day I’ll be as lucky and find someone like momma that makes me feel the way he feels about her.
At least we have that in common.
My father leans down and whispers something in my mother’s ear that makes her blush. He kisses her shoulder and looks up at me. I hold his stare, confident, determined to make him see just how much this all means to me. Baseball has been my outlet. My life. The one thing I found that I am effortlessly good at. When I am playing the game, I don’t have to pretend anything. I can just be me.
