I cut him off mid-sentence. “I’m not hurt. At least not physically.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
I sniffle uncontrollably, then unleash a fresh round of sobs.
Hunter stares at me as if he can’t comprehend what’s going on. “Do you typically cry after sex?”
“No.”
“Then why now? You seemed to enjoy it.”
“I did…it’s just…seeing you grab your clothing afterward made me think of the others.”
“Others?”
“From Salem.”
His mouth forms a thin line.
“Will you…cuddle me?”
“No.”
Sadness and anger intertwine. “But why?”
“I don’t want to.”
“But it costs you nothing.”
“If there were a good reason to do so, I would.”
“What if that reason is to make me happy?”
“Why would I care about that?”
Never in my life have I felt so alone. But what did I expect? Hunter never lied or put on a false face. He is who he is, and he makes no apologies for it.
“I’ll leave you to get yourself sorted.”
Sorted? Like I’m fucking laundry.
He pulls his clothes on, his expression never changing.
“I’m making roasted pigeon with a fresh salad for dinner. Until it’s time to eat, I’m going to have to ask you not to leave the room.”
And without another glance my way, he exits, letting the door close behind him.
Chapter 6
HUNTER
For the first time in my life, I feel normal.
Or as close to normal as I’m likely to feel.
Not once during my coupling with Fiona did I think about murder or torture or any of the other things that would typically get me hard. I stayed in the moment, immersing myself wholly in the act. Even as I set the table for dinner, I keep thinking about her.
The lust-filled look in her eyes, the way her cunt fluttered around my cock as she came, her desperate hands clawing my shoulders…
