Untamed Hearts
Page 12
And then he’s pulling out of me, and I gasp for air, whimpering in protest. Hunter buries his face against my neck, biting down as he surges inside me again, this time hitting deeper, harder, sending shockwaves of pleasure slamming through my body.
God! I cry out, grasping for him, bucking against him, finding the rhythm that turns the shockwaves to an earthquake, my restless ache to an agonizing hunger. Every movement, every new thrust sends my world shattering further apart, until I lose words. I forget time. Nothing else exists, except the breathless slide of his body surging into me, the tension coiling tighter between my thighs.
“Brit,” Hunter gasps, slowing the pace, rolling me onto my side so we’re facing each other, cradling my face in his hands. And now it’s too sweet, too f**king sweet, relentless, the thickness of him inside of me, slowly sliding, hitting just right, so deep. I moan, nails digging into his back, holding on for dear life. There’s a thick pleasure building in my veins, an unfamiliar shiver snaking through my limbs, but I can’t let go, it’s all still out of reach.
“Hunter,” I gasp, shaking. “God, Hunter, please...”
He pulls his torso back from me, and I let out a sound of protest at the space between us, but now the angle is different, deeper. He thrusts again, circling his hips, and I shudder at the new pressure, this fresh torment. Hunter’s eyes are on mine, piercing deep into my soul, demanding, urging me on. My mouth is open, wordless, imploring, every slide of him inside of me unbearably sweet but not enough, it’s not enough to shatter this wall, solid and aching, strung out with tense agony.
“Brit,” Hunter whispers my name again. He circles his hips again, making me cry out with pleasure as his face relaxes into a perfect smile. “My Brit.”
And then he slips his hand between us, finding the aching heart of me. His fingers pulsate against me as he thrusts again, hard, and I come apart in his arms.
The pleasure shatters through me, a crescendo, setting every nerve alive, screaming a symphony through my body that takes every thought from my mind and robs the breath from my lungs. I hear Hunter cry out, feel him shudder against me, but I’m falling, falling over and over, as if there’s no Earth, no sky, no stars; just the gravity of pleasure and the velvet darkness that surrounds me, and Hunter, only Hunter.
Only him.
6. Hunter
She falls asleep in my arms, wrapped tight, her face more peaceful than I’ve ever seen before. I can’t rest, or even close my eyes, I just watch her, holding her tight, wishing this night would never end.
She’s changed me.
I can’t explain it, but making love to Brit was more than just a physical act, the embrace of two bodies the way it’s always been before. Moving inside her, watching her face change as her pleasure took over... It shook me like I’ve never known. Laying here, adrenalin still racing through my veins, I feel different. Reborn. Like my body has split apart into a thousand pieces, and then reassembled into someone new.
Someone better.
Brit shifts in her sleep, rolling closer against me with a faint murmur. Her silken hair brushes against my cheek, her warmth seeping through my sweater. I hold her tight, almost scared to breathe in case I wake her and break this magic spell. It’s still dark outside the small, dusty window, still night, but I know that dawn will be breaking soon, and with it, an unknown tomorrow.
What happens now?
Leaving Beachwood seems unthinkable. Letting her go, tearing myself from her side—my heart clenches in my chest just at the idea. No, I order myself, you have to be rational, you have to make a plan.
So I do. Laying in the dark lighthouse, Brit wrapped around me, I sketch out the future, so vivid I can almost see it. I have college, and she’s in school, too young for anything else just yet. But there are holidays, vacations, summer and Christmas. Yale is a ten hour drive away, non-stop, but I can make that every other week for her.
For Brit, I’d drive a thousand miles and not even stop for sleep.
I feel tiredness pulling at me. I snuggle against her, listening to the even sound of her breath, feeling her soft curves against my body. Yes, I decide. It’ll work. It has to. Because knowing Brit now—tasting the sweetness of her lips, touching the curve of her body, seeing the brightness in her soul—I have no other choice.
She’s mine. I’m hers. We’ll be together now, and that’s all I’ll ever need.
7. Brit
I wake at dawn, curled tight in Hunter’s arms, feeling a safety I’ve never known.
It breaks my heart clean in two.
I roll over, drinking in the sight of him, trying to burn it on my memory. He looks so peaceful in the early-morning light: his hair mussed, the shadow of golden stubble on his face. I could stay here watching him forever, but I know, I’ve already stayed too long.
I slip out from under his arm. Hunter mumbles, then rolls over, still asleep. I quickly find my underwear, and pull my dress back over my head. I pick up the sweater he loaned me, then pause, bringing it up to my face.
It smells of him: clean, and warm, like sunshine and the ocean spray. I want to keep it, keep something of him, but I know, it’ll only make this so much harder, so I fold it carefully, and place the sweater by his head.
Hunter...
I watch him a moment more. Every instinct in my body is screaming to lay back down, tuck myself inside the warmth of his embrace, hold on tight to him and never let go, but I know, it’s all just a fantasy. A fairy-tale of some happily-ever-after, I know better than to believe.
God! I cry out, grasping for him, bucking against him, finding the rhythm that turns the shockwaves to an earthquake, my restless ache to an agonizing hunger. Every movement, every new thrust sends my world shattering further apart, until I lose words. I forget time. Nothing else exists, except the breathless slide of his body surging into me, the tension coiling tighter between my thighs.
“Brit,” Hunter gasps, slowing the pace, rolling me onto my side so we’re facing each other, cradling my face in his hands. And now it’s too sweet, too f**king sweet, relentless, the thickness of him inside of me, slowly sliding, hitting just right, so deep. I moan, nails digging into his back, holding on for dear life. There’s a thick pleasure building in my veins, an unfamiliar shiver snaking through my limbs, but I can’t let go, it’s all still out of reach.
“Hunter,” I gasp, shaking. “God, Hunter, please...”
He pulls his torso back from me, and I let out a sound of protest at the space between us, but now the angle is different, deeper. He thrusts again, circling his hips, and I shudder at the new pressure, this fresh torment. Hunter’s eyes are on mine, piercing deep into my soul, demanding, urging me on. My mouth is open, wordless, imploring, every slide of him inside of me unbearably sweet but not enough, it’s not enough to shatter this wall, solid and aching, strung out with tense agony.
“Brit,” Hunter whispers my name again. He circles his hips again, making me cry out with pleasure as his face relaxes into a perfect smile. “My Brit.”
And then he slips his hand between us, finding the aching heart of me. His fingers pulsate against me as he thrusts again, hard, and I come apart in his arms.
The pleasure shatters through me, a crescendo, setting every nerve alive, screaming a symphony through my body that takes every thought from my mind and robs the breath from my lungs. I hear Hunter cry out, feel him shudder against me, but I’m falling, falling over and over, as if there’s no Earth, no sky, no stars; just the gravity of pleasure and the velvet darkness that surrounds me, and Hunter, only Hunter.
Only him.
6. Hunter
She falls asleep in my arms, wrapped tight, her face more peaceful than I’ve ever seen before. I can’t rest, or even close my eyes, I just watch her, holding her tight, wishing this night would never end.
She’s changed me.
I can’t explain it, but making love to Brit was more than just a physical act, the embrace of two bodies the way it’s always been before. Moving inside her, watching her face change as her pleasure took over... It shook me like I’ve never known. Laying here, adrenalin still racing through my veins, I feel different. Reborn. Like my body has split apart into a thousand pieces, and then reassembled into someone new.
Someone better.
Brit shifts in her sleep, rolling closer against me with a faint murmur. Her silken hair brushes against my cheek, her warmth seeping through my sweater. I hold her tight, almost scared to breathe in case I wake her and break this magic spell. It’s still dark outside the small, dusty window, still night, but I know that dawn will be breaking soon, and with it, an unknown tomorrow.
What happens now?
Leaving Beachwood seems unthinkable. Letting her go, tearing myself from her side—my heart clenches in my chest just at the idea. No, I order myself, you have to be rational, you have to make a plan.
So I do. Laying in the dark lighthouse, Brit wrapped around me, I sketch out the future, so vivid I can almost see it. I have college, and she’s in school, too young for anything else just yet. But there are holidays, vacations, summer and Christmas. Yale is a ten hour drive away, non-stop, but I can make that every other week for her.
For Brit, I’d drive a thousand miles and not even stop for sleep.
I feel tiredness pulling at me. I snuggle against her, listening to the even sound of her breath, feeling her soft curves against my body. Yes, I decide. It’ll work. It has to. Because knowing Brit now—tasting the sweetness of her lips, touching the curve of her body, seeing the brightness in her soul—I have no other choice.
She’s mine. I’m hers. We’ll be together now, and that’s all I’ll ever need.
7. Brit
I wake at dawn, curled tight in Hunter’s arms, feeling a safety I’ve never known.
It breaks my heart clean in two.
I roll over, drinking in the sight of him, trying to burn it on my memory. He looks so peaceful in the early-morning light: his hair mussed, the shadow of golden stubble on his face. I could stay here watching him forever, but I know, I’ve already stayed too long.
I slip out from under his arm. Hunter mumbles, then rolls over, still asleep. I quickly find my underwear, and pull my dress back over my head. I pick up the sweater he loaned me, then pause, bringing it up to my face.
It smells of him: clean, and warm, like sunshine and the ocean spray. I want to keep it, keep something of him, but I know, it’ll only make this so much harder, so I fold it carefully, and place the sweater by his head.
Hunter...
I watch him a moment more. Every instinct in my body is screaming to lay back down, tuck myself inside the warmth of his embrace, hold on tight to him and never let go, but I know, it’s all just a fantasy. A fairy-tale of some happily-ever-after, I know better than to believe.
