He reached for the champagne, popped the cork, and poured two glasses. Handed me one.
"To surprises," he said.
I touched my glass to his. "To bad decisions that feel right."
We drank. Bubbles fizzed on my tongue. Hunter set both glasses aside and pulled me closer, water lapping at our skin.
"I've been thinking about this all day." His lips traced my collarbone, my shoulder, the curve of my neck. "Watching you in that dress. Wanting to touch you. Wanting to taste you."
"Touch me now."
His hands slid up to cup my breasts. His thumbs brushed my nipples and I let out a soft moan.
"Sensitive?" He did it again, watching my reaction with dark eyes.
"Very."
He lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth. Sucked gently at first, then harder when I gasped. His other hand slid between my legs, fingers parting my folds beneath the water.
"You're so wet," he murmured against my breast. "All this for me?"
"Your fault."
"Good." His fingers found my clit and circled with exactly the pressure I needed. "I want to make you come so many times you forget your own name."
"Ambitious."
"Motivated."
He worked me with clever fingers while his mouth moved between my breasts — licking, sucking, teasing until I was squirming in his lap. Slow circles on my clit, then faster when my breathing changed. The heat of the water, the champagne in my blood, his hands on my body — I was already climbing.
"Hunter—"
"That's it." He pressed harder, faster. "Let go for me."
I shattered. Pleasure crashed through me, my hips grinding against his hand as I rode it out. He kept stroking, drawing out every tremor until I sagged against his chest, boneless.
"One," he said, sounding far too satisfied.
Before I could catch my breath, he lifted me and set me on the edge of the tub, spreading my thighs wide.
"What are you—"
He buried his face between my legs.
"Oh fuck—" The words dissolved into a moan as his tongue swept through my folds.
He ate me like I was the best thing he'd ever tasted. Long, slow licks followed by gentle suction on my clit. He slid two fingers inside me, curling them to hit that spot while his tongue worked me over, and I was already climbing again.
My hands fisted in his wet hair, hips rocking against his face. He made a low sound of approval, the vibration shooting straight to my core.
"Don't stop," I begged. "Please—"
He doubled down, fingers pumping faster, tongue flicking my clit without mercy. The pressure built and built until it crested and broke, harder than the first time, my thighs clamping around his head while I cried out.
When I finally released him, he pressed a kiss to my inner thigh and looked up with that cocky grin.
"Two."
