17. Hunter

Lottie. My jaw almost dropped to the floor when I saw her. My hands immediately wanted to touch her however I pleased—within reason. I couldn't think of a single woman, whether that be a model, celebrity, or one I knew personally, that looked as enticing to me as she did in that moment.

My cock twitched. I didn't know how the hell I would get through dinner without a constant erection with her looking like that.

I almost considered calling and canceling the reservation, but there were two problems with that: my phone was broken, and I'd already anonymously alerted the press to where we'd be. We needed the publicity.

I kissed her in the kitchen. I kissed her in the elevator. I kissed her in the car, my hand halfway up her barely-there dress, a whispered stay quiet in her ear. A part of me believed this goddess of a woman to be some kind of witch. I'd never felt like this before; each time she stood in front of me, every part of me wanted her more—from my cock to my goddamn brain. I couldn't get enough.

She sat across from me at the small table, her legs crossed. I already knew what was beneath that dress; I'd felt the garter belt and panties earlier. There seemed to be a part of her that was enjoying the attention and I could feel the brick wall crumbling, bit by bit, falling apart in my hands.

The light breeze of the rooftop terrace was a welcome addition to the near unbearable heat in my body.

"Have I told you how incredible you look tonight?" I teased, sipping at my glass of red wine as I leaned back in my chair, my foot tapping against the side of her heel.

"You have. This makes number four, Hunter," she laughed.

I nodded to myself, trying to contain my chuckle. I looked out at the city below. I needed a distraction, something to give myself a break from imagining her bent over the table with my cock inside of her. The lights of Boulder shone brightly, the panoramic view reminding me of a travel brochure.

"I made the horrible mistake of letting Dana pack for me," she said, breaking off a piece of bread from the loaf they'd left for us along with a light olive oil and grated parmesan cheese. "Apparently, she thought I wouldn't need pajamas or casual clothes. Just tight little dresses and lingerie."

I nearly spat out my wine. "Christ."

Something snapped within her then. I could tell by the look on her face, by the way her pupils dilated when she looked at me. Lottie's smirk grew. "Mmm-hmm. There's this lacy set she packed, entirely red, with cutouts for my breasts. And another that's just practically a corset?—"

"No, nope, absolutely not," I interrupted, pressing my hand down against the growing bulge beneath my slacks. "You cannot say that to me. Not here."

She laughed, her mischievous grin only widening. "What's wrong?" She leaned back in her chair and slowly uncrossed her legs, giving me just a little peek at the black lace between them through the glass table separating us. After a few seconds, she crossed them again. "Or are you struggling not to think about how good you fucked me in your office?"

I'd already broken my phone. I really hoped I didn't break the wine glass in my hand as well. I didn't know what on earth had gotten into her, but whatever it was, it was going to make me explode.

"Can't get that image of me licking your precum off my thumb out of your head, can you?"

"I swear to God, Lottie?—"

"Or are you thinking of all the things I might let you do to me? Are you imagining what the little set I have on under this dress looks like?" She made stuffing a piece of bread in her mouth look sexy, a little droplet of oil clinging to her lower lip. She swiped it with her thumb, her eyes never leaving mine.

And then she slowly licked it off.

I set down the glass before it inevitably shattered in my palm. Blood was pooling in my cock, screaming at me to bury it somewhere warm and soft and wet. I pulled at the crotch seam, trying to give myself a little more room to breathe, but it was pointless.

"Lottie, if you don't stop, I swear to God I will bend you over this table right now." I snapped. My chest rose and fell with each breath, the heat of it reaching its peak.

Her blue eyes grew wide, staring me down, her lips parting in shock, feigning surprise. But then she sank back into seductress Lottie. "What if that's exactly what I want?"

I could feel my nostrils flaring, could hear the little whistle as I breathed in and out. I might as well have had a gold ring through my nose and been pawing at the ground. "Don't tease me, Charlotte."

"Is it teasing if it's what I want?"

The waiter stepped up to the table. I hadn't even seen him coming, hadn't noticed the flash of his white coat and the two plates he carried. He set the main dishes down in front of us, his eyes flicking not very subtly to the tent in my slacks, and scurried off without a word.

I took another sip of my wine and set the glass back down, careful not to keep it in my hand this time. "It's teasing if you don't want it right now. Because if that's truly what you want, sweetheart, I'll gladly get us a car to the hotel. I'd much rather eat you than this steak."

Warmth spread across her cheeks in an instant.

————

I wasn't entirely sure what came over either of us. There was a connection there, a vibrating chord that was about to snap. She picked at the last of her food as she continued to cross and uncross her legs. I swiped a little bit of au jus that had trickled down from her lips; I wanted to avoid another olive oil-like incident. The dirty talk had calmed a bit, but not the tension, not the need for her.

I took it upon myself to order a small dessert to share. I was already full, and anything heavy would easily tip me into food coma territory, rendering me useless if she truly wanted me to fuck her senseless the second we got back to the hotel.

I couldn't help but feed her the whipped cream. That was far too sexy to pass up.

The moment the bill was paid, we were out the door and down the elevator, climbing into the back of a private car. I couldn't stop myself from touching her, from pushing my hands up into her hair and pulling her into my lap. I kissed her greedily, hungrily, devouring every inch of her lipstick-covered mouth.

"Seatbelts," the driver said.

"Mind your business and you'll still get a tip," I snapped, taking a moment to breathe and pulling a wad of hundreds from my breast pocket. I chucked them aimlessly into the front seat.

I needed her in any way she'd let me have her. I showed that to her with my hands, my mouth, my fistfuls of her hair, and the hardness of my cock. Whatever it was that was washing over me like a flood crashed over her as well, all inhibitions gone, her dress halfway down her torso and her fingers working at my buttons. She'd let me fuck her in the back of the car if I wanted to, driver be damned.

Lottie noticed the car had stopped before I did. I was too busy filling her with two of my fingers, too busy imagining it was my cock. She gasped for breath, one hand pressed hard against my throat. "We're here," she croaked, her voice breaking. But the moment was too sweet, too delicious for me to care about the words. "Hunter."

The door beside me swung open. "Please get the fuck out of my car."

Breathing through the haze, I slid my fingers out of her. Wiping them on my slacks I wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling up her dress with my free hand before dragging her out of the car with me. "Apologies," I said, wiping my grinning mouth with the back of my hand as the driver glared at me.

"You better not have left a mess."

Lottie's answering giggle told me that she'd probably leaked onto the leather seats. Christ.

I didn't care that I probably had lipstick on my face. Didn't care that my shirt was half unbuttoned and untucked, that my cock was so swollen it ached. I pulled her stumbling frame into the lobby and around the corner to the elevators, hoping to God we wouldn't have to wait long.

"You look ridiculous," she laughed, her smile all teeth and truth. Her lipstick was smudged across her chin, her hair knotted, and one shoulder of her dress was hanging off.

"So do you."

She practically climbed me the moment the doors shut. Her mouth on mine, her hands in my hair, one leg hooked around my hip. I was half tempted to fuck her right there, to take that chance of the elevator stopping on a random floor, a crowd of horrified people waiting to go up.

"I need you," she whined, her fingers digging into the sides of my neck. She bit at my jaw, sinking her teeth in gently and tugging at it. "I need this."

"Patience," I laughed, though I knew I had none either. "We're almost there."

"I don't care." One hand went to my belt, fumbling with the clasp, but I covered it with my own to stop her. Although I was more than keen for a repeat of what happened in my office, we were too close to making it to the room without a public indecency charge.

I could use her weakness against her, though.

I slid my hand around her throat, loving the little squeak she made as every part of her stilled. "You can wait," I said, coating my words in confidence, treating it like a demand. "Unless you want carpet-burned knees, you will wait."

Her eyes widened. The elevator dinged.

I thanked whatever higher power existed that no one was waiting for the elevator as we stepped out, Lottie's hand locked in mine. It took us all of two seconds to get inside the suite before I was on her like a lion pouncing on its prey.

To the left of the door, the kitchen counter wrapped around the side of the hallway. I kicked the door shut behind us and grabbed her by the waist, spinning her, and pushing her up against the marble. She bent over it on instinct.

"Let's get this fucking dress off," I rasped, pulling it up and over her rear. I asked her to stand up straight for a second so I could lift it up and over her head before chucking it on the floor behind me.

What was under her dress was everything I had hoped for and more.

Little straps ran along her torso, her back, connecting to a lacy black thong and garter belt. It was an absolutely sinful little set, one that would have made me hard without even touching her if I wasn't rock solid already. It made me curious what else was hiding in her suitcase if this was what she considered the least daring.

I didn't have the patience to take off all of my clothes. But in the time it took me to unzip my slacks and pull my aching cock out, I managed to get a few light little slaps against her ass. "Do you honestly think you can talk to me in public the way you did back there?" I asked. I pulled on the string of her thong, moving it out of the way enough that I could press my head against her entrance. "Do you know how fucking hard you made me, Lottie? I'll be shocked if the photos from tonight don't feature an erection."

She giggled and pushed her hips back against me, slipping me in halfway with a shuddering moan. "What are you going to do about it?"

The breaths coming from my nose sounded more like a bull than a human. In one quick motion, I wrapped my hand around the length of her hair, pulling her head back with enough force to make her whine. "I'll fuck you until you're screaming, crying, begging me to stop."

She whimpered as I slid further in. Every part of her felt like heaven, but being inside of her was otherworldly. I'd never experienced anything quite like it, never wanted to keep coming back for more this often, this intensely. I couldn't think of a single woman I'd been with that I'd been so desperate for.

Only Lottie.

She made me feral.

"Please," she begged. I fucking loved how often she used that word. It was like it was ingrained in her to beg, to submit. I couldn't help but oblige.

Using her fisted hair as leverage, I pulled her back to me, slamming myself in to the hilt. She felt like warm, hand-woven silk as I began to thrust with abandon, too much coiled tension inside of me to take her slowly. Every slap of my skin against hers, every moan she made, was music to my ears. Music I wanted to play on a loop forever.

"Harder," she bit out, one arm outstretched behind her. She grasped onto a panel of my suit jacket, gripping it with enough force to tear a hole in it with her nails. "Please, Hunter."

My thrusts drove into her harder, my hips under her damn command. Groaning from how good she felt, I snaked my free hand around her hips, finding an unexpected hand between her thighs. "Did I say you could touch yourself?" I growled, wrapping my fingers around her palm and shoving it away from her clit.

"I—"

I put my palm flat against her lips, my fingertips brushing the base of my cock with every plunge. "So fucking disobedient," I snarled. "Maybe I shouldn't touch you either. Just force you to sit back and take it, never giving your clit a goddamn lick of attention."

"No," she whined, her slick hand desperately trying to pry my fingers away. "Please, please, touch me. Or let me touch myself. Please. Hunter?—"

Her voice broke off the moment I gave her what she wanted. Her body shuddered, her moans more insistent, more greedy. "Be good and maybe my threats won't amount to anything."

I could feel her walls tightening already, could feel the evidence of me playing with her in the car getting her too wound up. She was close, and I still had a ways to go. "Please don't stop," she sobbed, every breath a gasp as I fucked her harder, faster, driving her to her breaking point. "Never stop. Never stop. Never stop."

She was too far gone to ask for any kind of permission. Within seconds she broke, a blubbering mess of pleasure and lust as she practically screamed her release. Her sounds drove me closer even as her walls caved in, pushing me out, out, out?—

"On your knees," I rasped, pulling her by her hair off the counter. I let go, stumbling back into the wall behind me. If I had any worry that we shouldn't be doing this, it was long gone, buried somewhere with my fucking dignity.

Lottie's shaking form dropped to her knees in front of me. I got a look at the lingerie from another view, and holy shit, I wasn't going to be able to keep my sanity with her. There was no chance, not when she looked up at me like that, her lips parting and wrapping themselves around the head of my cock.

My knees shook as she took half of me in. Her throat opened for me, letting me in just a little bit further, and she held me there while her tongue slid up and down the bottom of my shaft. One hand held the base of my cock, forcing me to stay where I was, not giving any breathing room. She wanted the control.

Fucking sinful.

The light reflected in her glistening eyes as she pulled back, gasping for air with a thick string of saliva hanging between my cock and her mouth. "Christ," I moaned, my head tipping back against the wall before I realized that I wanted to watch her, wanted this ingrained in my head. I wanted to memorize the way she looked up at me, the way she was so fucking eager to please me.

She didn't make a sound. All she did was use that mouth for the one thing I'd been imagining since I met her, since I watched her little pout and puckered lips.

Within minutes I was close, unable to hold myself back. I didn't want it to end, didn't want to return my head to the wall, but my body was screaming at me, begging me for release. My knees shook. I knotted my fingers in her hair, half a second from pulling her mouth off of me so she wouldn't feel a need to swallow.

But she shoved me down her throat instead.

I spilled into her, drop after pent-up drop leaking down her tongue. "Oh my God," I grunted, pulling myself from her the moment she let me. I sunk to my knees in front of her, my head spinning, and wiped the little bit of cum that dripped from the side of her lips. She grinned at me.

"Was that okay?"

I laughed as I struggled to catch my breath. "Christ, sweetheart, that was more than okay." I took her face in my hands, pressing my lips to hers without a fucking care that she'd just swallowed my cum.

She kissed me just as eagerly, climbing into my lap, straddling me. Our needy hands were all over one another. We needed some time to recover, to calm down, but with every lash of our tongues and every heated sigh, I wasn't sure if either of us would be recovering yet.

"Why is it like this?" she asked between kisses, her voice breathy as she scratched lightly at the back of my head.

Something twisted in my chest. "What do you mean?"

"This… need," she clarified, her free hand popping my buttons open one by one. "Is it just me?"

I swallowed. There wasn't a single part of me that knew how to answer that. This was too perfect, she was too perfect. The farther down this path we walked, the more I was beginning to feel like maybe, maybe some part of this was real. It wasn't just her, I knew that in my bones. Would it make a difference if I said that? Did it make a difference that she had?

"No, Lottie," I rasped. "It's not just you."