“Yep?”
“Stop teasing.”
I chuckle and finish helping her out of the dress, peeling it down and tossing it somewhere. And damn if she’s not wearing a sage lace boustier with a see-through thong. The lace is so thin I see her nipples through it, already peaked. My mouth waters, and I stop breathing. Sheezus. What is it about this color?
Pink spreads down her chest. “You’re staring.”
“Damn right.” My hands slide up her thighs and over her hips, my thumbs tracing the panty’s lace edges. My hands look massive against her thick thighs. “Look at you, Doc.”
She pulls me up and kisses me hard. Her fingers starts on my shirt buttons, but I cover her hands with mine.
“Claire.”
“I want this.” She looks up at me. “Now.”
Well, damn.
I strip, unbuttoning the shirt and shrugging out of the jacket while attempting to remove my tie. The room’s dim but she’s watching. I see her eyes tracking the scars on my chest, my arms, pale lines from fifteen years of mill work.
“Touch them.” My voice is rough.
Her fingers slowly trace each one—the chainsaw nick on my ribs, the saw blade slash across my shoulder. She’s memorizing me.
My cock flinches, and I lay her back, taking my time until we’re skin to skin. She’s so fucking soft everywhere I’m hard. I kiss every damn inch of her I can reach, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her arch, and what makes her say my name.
When my rough palm slides to her inner thigh, Claire’s already wet and ready for me. I groan when I feel how soaked she is.
“All this for me, Doc?” She nods, wordless, hips rolling into my hand.
“Hunter. Please.” Her green eyes are half-mast, her dark lashes full as I hook my fingers in lace and drag it down, tossing it in the direction of her dress.
I brace over her, my left arm shaking slightly, still not full strength, but I don’t care. She’s so damn gorgeous under me, her pale skin against my sun-darkened arms. Then I settle between her thighs, the head of my cock pressing against her heated center.
“Look at me, Doc.”
Claire’s green eyes lock on mine, dark and wanting, her full lips parted slightly, her breasts heaving.
I push in slow. Her pussy is tight and perfect and mine, her walls clenching around me.
She pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, her cheeks flushed pink. “Okay… wow.”
“You okay?” The words barely scrape out as I pause to make sure she’s okay with my girth.
“More than okay.”
Her hips tilt, and I start to move, her silken heat wrapping around my dick with pressure that makes my vision blur. She’s so fucking tight I have to grit my teeth to go slow. I watch her face, her mouth falling open. Her breath stutters out, half-gasp and half-moan.
I drag the lace of her corset down to reveal her peaked nipples, their coral pink perfection against her peachy skin.
I begin moving deeper and harder, finding the rhythm that has her nails biting my shoulders, and her legs wrapping my waist. The sounds she makes, breathy and needy, drive me higher.
When I grip her hip to angle her exactly where I need her, she cries out.
“That’s it, Doc.” My voice is gravel. “Let me hear you.”
“Hunter. I…I.. ohgawd—”
I brace on one arm, using the other to grab the soft globes of her ass. I hit deeper, and the bed frame creaks, the wood slamming against the wall with each thrust. The headboard’s going to leave marks in the plaster, but I don’t give a damn. Let the whole resort hear.
