Penny
I try to focus on trimming the sunflower stems, but Hunter’s presence in the room has set my body spinning. My heart races, and heat blooms in my core.
Every inch of my body tingles, making it difficult to work the knife.
He looked good at the PTA party, amazingly good. But here, now, he looks a million times better.
It’s scarcely believable that he’s here for me.
My panties are already damp, I don’t know how I’m going to make it all the way through dinner without them dissolving.
“Need some help?” he asks, moving his body alongside mine.
My heart leaps at his nearness, even though he stands an inch apart from me. Even without him touching me, electricity jumps between us. I long for physical contact with him.
His clean, manly smell wraps around me, and I fight the urge to melt against him.
“Sure,” I manage to say, though I’m not sure what help I need exactly, other than to be taken into his arms.
“Want me to cut that for you?” he asks, placing his hand over mine on the knife handle.
His touch sends a river of heat through me, from my hand all the way to my core. My body has never reacted like this to any man before. Not even my ex-husband. Especially not my ex-husband.
I swallow and say nothing, merely watching as our hands trim the rest of the thick sunflower stalks. I’d never realized how thick sunflower stems were before, and my mind wanders to what other thick thing Hunter has to give me.
“Finished,” Hunter says as we cut the last one.
With my free hand, I shove the sunflowers into the vase, not bothering to make sure they’re nicely displayed. Hunter’s hand is still over mine on the knife, and I’m wondering what else I can find to cut so that he doesn’t take it away.
“Hungry? We should go get dinner,” I say, regretting the words as soon as they’ve left my mouth.
“There’s only one thing I want to eat right now,” he growls.
I look up at him. He’s looking down at me, his eyes boring into mine in a possessive way. Everything about his stance is possessive, and I know exactly what he wants right now. The same thing I want.
Heart pounding, I part my lips and ever so slightly pout them.
For several breaths, Hunter stares down at me. I’m frozen in place even though I’m burning up inside.
He leans, and crushes his lips against mine without any gentleness. Instantly all the heat within me burns to a thousand degrees. Or a million degrees.
My body threatens to turn into a puddle, and I use the counter to hold myself up.
As our tongues twirl, Hunter cups the back of my head with one hand and runs his other hand over my back.
Letting go of the counter, I wrap my arms around his hard body. I explore the muscles in his shoulders and arms. He pulls me closer, pressing our bodies together.
Our kiss deepens, and time seems to stand still.
Breaking the kiss, Hunter says, “I don’t know what it is that you do to me.”
I open my mouth to say I have the same question about him, but before I can say anything his lips are back on mine.
My walls are working overtime, my panties drenched. I wiggle, trying to ease their cling against my mound. In the process, my body grinds against Hunter’s dick. It’s hard, and I gasp at his sheer size.
He places a hand on each of my ass cheeks, and lifts me without breaking our kiss. Backing me across the room, he lays me on the kitchen table.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, palming my breast through my dress.
As if.
With a firm touch, his hands travel over my waist and hips. When they reach the hem, he pushes my dress up around my waist.
Without hesitating, he hooks a finger in the top of my panties and yanks them off. I’m laid out on the kitchen table, waiting.
Hunter stands back and surveys me. I nudge my legs wider apart, begging him to touch me.
He leans in between my legs. His breath hot over my mound, and I squirm. He clamps his hands on my thighs, pinning me down and holding me still. My breath is gasping, and my heart pounds in my chest.
His tongue flicks across my mound, up and down my slit before settling on my clit.
“Fuck, Hunter,” I cry out.
It’s been so long since a man has done this to me, but I can’t remember ever feeling this good.
Hunter grunts, and sucks my clit hard. Hard enough that all the heat in my body transfers into that one small nub between his lips.
My body turns rigid. I feel like a humming, buzzing band ready to snap.
He takes his left hand from my thigh and lays it over my hips, holding me still. His right hand slides up my thigh and tickles my mound. My muscles tense further while I inwardly beg for him to enter me.
His fingers find my entrance, and he drives them into me. Almost instantly, my walls clamp around his fingers. I squeal, on the edge of oblivion.
My sounds urging him on, he spreads his fingers within me, scissoring them against my most sensitive spot.
A tidal wave of bliss forms at his fingertips and rushes over me. I instantly dissolve into the table, a puddle of pulsating joy.
Hunter takes away his hand. My walls no longer have anything to grip as they spasm, and if I wasn’t so breathless I would beg him to put them back.
After a moment, his tip is at my entrance. He pushes his thick girth into me, stretching me as my walls continue to spasm.
He scoops his hands underneath my body, and lifts me off the table. Turning with him still inside me, he sets me on the counter beside the sunflowers.
“You feel incredible,” he says, “Like I am where I belong.”
I whimper, and say, “I’ve never felt so good.”
My hands slide up under his T-shirt, and he quickly pulls it over his head. His body is chiseled, and I run my fingers over the ridges of his six-pack.
He drives into me again, and I have to circle my arms around him to steady myself. His arms support me from falling backwards as he thrusts into me.
My body tenses and builds again, and I cling to Hunter. He grunts, and his dick throbs as he climaxes. It’s enough to make my body react, and I once again dissolve as waves rush me.
Hunter holds me in his arms, still inside me, for long after our orgasms finish. And I don’t want him to let go. Ever.
I don’t know what it is about him, but I’ve never felt complete. And right now I feel very, very complete.
He kisses my cheek, and says, “I need to clean up in the washroom.”
“Me too,” I say, in no rush to do anything.
Pulling out, he helps me off the counter and I lead him to the powder room. We move from the kitchen to the hallway, and into the two-piece near the front door.
We finish cleaning ourselves, and exit the powder room.
Hunter freezes on the spot.
I follow his eyes. Hanging on the wall is a photo with the lettering Jack over top of it. Underneath, is a certificate Jack won at summer camp, with his name written in big colorful letters across it.
“Jack is your son,” Hunter states, all the kindness gone from his voice.
“He—”
“You didn’t feel the need to tell me that your son is my son’s bully.” He can’t hide the anger in his voice.