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He doesn’t say anything, letting me kiss him softly.
His eyes are still open, watching me, but I don’t care.
“How drunk are you?” His question has an air of finality.
I smile almost sinisterly. “Enough to know what I want, Mr. Middleton.”
His jaw tightens, and he removes one hand from my waist, running it up my spine. I shift at the sudden sensation of his touch. My lips part in a quiet gasp as his hand finds its way into my hair, and he yanks my head back roughly, forcing me to look at the ceiling, his hot mouth trailing against my neck as he whispers, “It’s Hunter, not Mr. Middleton. But since you like saying it so much, you can call me Mr. Middleton when I have you under my desk at the Blue Whiskey, sucking my cock.”
Wetness floods my panties as the mental imagery of me on my knees between his powerful thighs consumes my thoughts.His tongue darts out and slowly licks along a slight blue vein in my throat, and I whimper at the blatantly sexual act.
“You’d better be sure about this, Megan. You can’t take this back.”
My hands tighten around his neck as he licks and sucks along my jaw, leaving small bites. “It’s just one night, and afterward, we don’t ever have to talk about it again,” I tell him.
His chuckle is both raw and holds a tinge of anger. “So you just want to use me?”
This time, he pulls down the strap of my blouse and bites down on my shoulder hard. I make a distressed moan, but his hand is still in my hair, and I can’t move.
“That would be convenient for you, wouldn’t it?” I ask through labored breaths.
It’s difficult to keep my voice steady when he’s asking me questions while simultaneously using his mouth to explore my body.
“Convenient?” His voice now has a dangerous quality to it. “And since when have you decided what is convenient for me or not?”
My fingers clench in his hair for a moment in a flash of irritation, but when I try to look down at him, he refuses to let me move, holding my body prisoner.
“If you don’t want this, you can just leave. I’m hardly putting a gun to your head.” I say the brave words, fueled by champagne kisses and Parisian moonlight, but I definitely don’t want him to leave.
“I see.” I feel his lips curve against my neck. “So, it’s my choice.”
“Of course.”
Hunter presses an open-mouthed kiss against my jaw. “And tonight is all I get?”
“Like I said-“
“Yes, I heard you.”
He pulls down the other strap of my blouse, and I can feel the breeze on my bare cleavage. “I don’t like ultimatums, Megan.”
Before I can respond, a few things happen at the same time. I feel him move his arm and the sounds of dishes crashing to the ground echo in my ears. Then, he releases me and turns me around, bending me over the small dining table, my chest against the cold smooth wood, his body pressed against mine.
My heart is thudding in my chest at the sudden change in position as he bends over me, his tongue tracing the shell of my ear. “We’ll do this, but on my terms.”
I don’t get a chance to ask him what he means because his hands are pulling down my blouse until it’s bunched around my waist.
“Wait-“
“What’s wrong?” He presses a kiss on my back, and my mind is fogging over with every touch. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
He’s not wrong, but he’s so overwhelming right now that I’m feeling both confused and yet so turned on. I want him but I didn’t think it would be like this.
“Yes, I mean, I don’t know what to do,” I stammer. “I can’t see your face.”
His chuckle is deep, and it holds a hint of darkness as he yanks my hair back, once again with a fistful of my hair, turning me enough to kiss my mouth, a filthy, open-mouthed kiss that has me pressing my legs together. When he pulls away, he says in a low voice, “You just have to take what I give you.”
There’s nothing delicate in the way he’s touching me, and while I’m nervous, there’s a part of it that thrills me. When his mouth descends on mine, his free hand undoes my bra so quickly that I barely register him yanking it off of me and tossing it aside.
