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With every passing second, my orgasm built, my sobs and mewls only egging him on. I could feel him holding off just a little, just enough that he wouldn’t send himself over the edge. “Do you like when I use you for my own gain, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice almost guttural and vulgar.
His hand raised from my breast, snaking up across my chest. Fingers wrapped around my throat.
“Yes,” I panted.
He gave me a little squeeze.
Rapidly, I reached the cliff’s edge, and I had to focus every bit of energy I had into making sure I didn’t break before he said I could. “Please,” I cried. “Please, Hunter, I need to come. Please?—”
“Come for me,” he growled, shoving me back into the mattress face first the moment my body broke. I shuddered, ecstasy spreading through my veins like wildfire. His hips moved erratically, slamming into me, stuttering before a warmth spread inside.
His breaths came quickly and loudly as he collapsed on top of me before turning to the side, pulling my shaking body into his. Wave after wave crashed over me, leaving me a twitching, heaving mess.
“You did so well,” he breathed, his lips pressing against my cheeks, my forehead, my lips.
I nodded as he pulled me to his chest. “Thank you.”
Chapter 39
Hunter
“Hey, hey! Settle down!” Dad shouted, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
With Fred’s arm around the front of my neck and his chin on my head, I fought my way out of his hold, wiggling out from under and kicking my way back to my side of the car. “Sorry, Dad.”
“It’s not my fault he’s a menace,” Fred laughed. His foot kicked against mine, a silent promise of further retribution later when Dad couldn’t tell him to stop. It felt like we were kids again, mocking and fighting and playfully bullying one another. We’d always been combative, always wanted to one-up each other, but it didn’t feel painful anymore. It wasn’t fueled by ill will and anger.
He was just… my brother.
“I’d appreciate it if you two could not make the car shake like it’s about to break down,” Dad grumbled.
He pulled into the driveway of our family home. His insistence that I come for dinner had been annoying at best, but Lottie’s firm support of the idea left me with no other option than to accept.
A handful of cars littered the driveway. “What’s going on?” I asked, pushing my door open before being pulled back onto the seat by my brother’s fist in my suit jacket. “Hey!”
“We’ve got a little surprise for you,” Fred grinned.
“He’s not going to get his surprise if you don’t let him go, Fredrick,” Dad said, turning in his seat. “Come on. We have guests.”
————
Fred’s wife and children, my mother, a handful of distant aunts and uncles, friends from the company, and most importantly, my wife, front and center.
“You guys know my birthday isn’t for another six months, right?” I chuckled nervously, kicking my shoes off at the front door as they stood around us in the great foyer.
“Wait, really?” Fred chimed, his grin shit-eating.
“We thought since you didn’t get the chance to properly celebrate your rise to CEO, we could celebrate together,” Dad said, his voice entirely nonchalant as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and joined my mother.
“You deserve it.” Lottie stepped forward, her arms wrapping around my neck and pulling me in. “You’ve done so much for me the past few months. You deserve a night that’s about you.”
I looked between the guests, confused but honored that people had gone out of their way. Wrapping my arms around Lottie’s waist, I held her to me. “Thank you guys,” I said, pressing a kiss against the side of her head.
“Dinner’s made and ready.” Mom took the lead of the group, ushering them into the dining room. Lottie and I trailed in last, and as I looked at the spread that was laid out on the table, every single item of food was one of my favorites. Biscuits, roasted chicken with lemon and thyme, baked potatoes, brussels sprouts with balsamic glaze, homemade gravy, chargrilled leeks. As much as I loved Mom’s mediocre cooking, I almost wished I’d been the one to arrange it all.
Dad insisted I take the seat at the head of the table with Lottie by my side. Mom poured glasses of wine as we all settled into our seats, idle chatter and an air of camaraderie filling the space. I was grateful—it was easy and calm in comparison to the luncheon celebration Dad had organized the day he’d announced my rise to CEO. But a part of me wanted to spend a celebration with just Lottie, her skin on mine, her soft voice in my ear.
Dad clinked his glass with the side of his fork and stood, calling attention to himself.
