32. Greedy

Chapter 32

Greedy

now

She kisses me so harshly I have to press a hand to the door at her back to stay upright.

Her tongue pushes into my mouth, needy and desperate. We're a clash of teeth and hands, stripping clothes off each other, and in my case, fighting like hell to remain in the present.

This girl I'm kissing isn't my Hunter. My girl is gone. She doesn't exist anymore.

The idea slams into me like a freight train. I grip Hunter's face and feed her my tongue, fueled by the anger and jealousy churning in my gut.

She's not mine. She won't be, ever again.

I'm going to fuck her out of my system, and once we leave here, I'll move out. Then I'll finally, fucking finally, be able to move on.

Our kisses turn even more savage—violent and brutal. She bites me, and I bite back. A coppery taste floods my mouth, but I have no idea whether it's her blood or mine .

She's intoxicatingly sweet—strawberries and sugar—just like I remembered.

Fuck .

I can't let myself remember. Not now. Not when all I need is to get her out of my goddamn system.

Fury ignites in my veins as I kick off my pants.

Hunter's shirt comes next. I whip it over her head, then I yank down her bra and trail bites and kisses from her neck down between her breasts. I drop to my knees before her, pull her panties down her legs, then peer up at her.

She's panting, her eyes hazy but focused on me.

Glaring, I run my nose through the little strip of hair along her pubic bone. Her scent is mostly familiar and intoxicating, though there's a hint of something new.

"Tell me something, Hunter. Whose cum would coat my tongue if I stuck it in your pussy right now?"

Her nostrils flare, her eyes heating with anger.

"Answer me," I command, slapping her clit lightly for emphasis.

"Fuck," she whimpers, dropping her head back against the door. "I need more."

More? More what? More of me? Or more of someone else?

She needs more, the same way I need to forget her. But her scent is too intoxicating, and the need to feel her writhing on my tongue is too strong to ignore. I lick her gently, and she groans, clawing into the door behind her.

I tease her, licking and kissing, sucking on her pussy lips and flicking my tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. That's all I give her, though. Just enough to have her panting and needy, but not enough to send her toward the release she craves.

Her body arches and shakes with every flick of my tongue. Her moans become more and more desperate. I keep at it, lapping at her folds and sucking her clit into my mouth .

God dammit. If I wasn't already on my knees, the noises she makes as she fucks my face would have brought me here. Her movements grow frantic, her arousal intensifying. The taste of her on my tongue is suddenly richer, deeper.

Trembling, begging for release, she shoves her hands into my hair, scraping my scalp with her nails. The sensation that rolls through me as she scratches over my hidden tattoo jolts me back to reality.

It's the reminder I need.

Slowing, I kiss her pussy lips. Then I run my nose through the soft blond pubic hair once more. I pepper her mound with kisses. When I shift to the side to nip and bite at her hip, she catches on and hisses.

"God dammit, Greedy."

With a dark chuckle, I rise to my feet.

"This is supposed to be a hate fuck."

I grip her shoulders and spin her around so her front is pinned against the wall, right next to the door. I rub my cock up and down her ass, teasing her as I taunt her.

"I don't give a shit if you come or not."

Lie .

"You have a boyfriend to take care of that."

Which I hate .

"And His Royal Highness."

Who I really fucking hate .

"I'm going to fuck you until I nut inside your well-used cunt, and if you don't get off, I'm sure you can find someone willing to finish the job."

I cringe at my own crassness, but I punctuate the statement with another thrust of my dick against her body.

This is what she likes? What she needs ? To be degraded during sex? Every word is sour on my tongue. My every instinct is warring with me, telling me to apologize, urging me to swear that I'll never speak to her like this again.

I hate this .

Fucking hate it.

But by the way her breath hitches and her back arches toward me, like she's seeking my cock, I'm the only one.

Fuck . Fine.

I spit on my dick and smooth the saliva over the head before lining myself up.

"Just put it in already," Hunter sasses, pushing back until my tip is coated in her juices.

As a wave of pure ecstasy overwhelms me, I fumble between her legs, lining myself up with her drenched opening.

I thrust forward hard, and with that one fluid motion, I'm home.

Fucking. Home.

There's not an ounce of resistance. Her warmth and slickness welcome me as a thousand memories flood my consciousness and a dozen emotions spring to life in my mind and in my heart.

I'm all-in. She's all around me.

The familiarity of her hits like a punch to the solar plexus. I could stand here for hours or even fucking days, just soaking in the sensation of being connected like this. Committing this moment to memory.

I find her bare hips, cupping them reverently. When I pull out, I keep my gaze set on her round, pert ass, watching with rapture when my cock disappears past her peachy cheeks and slides deep inside her again.

The second time hits harder than the first.

Emotion clogs my throat, and tears sting the corners of my eyes as I hold myself inside her. My fingers ache to move, to run up and down her hips, to caress the delicate skin of her stomach, honoring the place where a life once grew.

Chin tucked, I rest my forehead on her shoulder, stilling inside her. Caressing her sides, I focus on memorizing every dip and curve, every inch of her skin.

If this is it—if this is the last time we ever—

Fucking hell. I can't do this .

I can't hate-fuck her or even pretend this is who I am or who I could be.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Move, dammit," she hisses, pulling me from the torturous reverie of my own emotions.

Instead of moving like she demands, I stand stock-still, holding her, immersing myself in the way her body engulfs mine, tattooing this moment, when I'm buried deep inside her, on my heart, and—

"Greedy," she chokes out. Her tone is laced with the same desperation threatening to drown me. "Move," she begs. "Fuck me like you hate me."

No.

It's a singular thought, but a resounding, universal rejection.

No. It's my truth. It may also be my undoing.

I don't hate her. I can't. I love her. I've always loved her. I'm in love with her. Pathetic and fool-hearted, too. I'm such a sappy sucker. It doesn't matter that she doesn't love me or that she left, that she lied, that she came back and yet still didn't tell me the truth.

None of it matters. She's all I want.

If the ragged way she's breathing and her gravelly, desperate tone are any indication, then part of her still wants me, too.

"Tem." I brush her hair over one shoulder and place a soft kiss on her neck.

"Don't, Greedy," she whimpers. I swear her cunt spasms around my length. "Stop."

"Stop?" Painful regret claws at my insides. I move to pull out, but her pussy is choking my cock, keeping me firmly locked in place. "Stop what?" I demand, my tone harsher than I intend.

I try to pull out again, but she clenches around me so tightly I can't move. Nor do I want to.

Clearly, she doesn't want to stop the physical connection between us. Does that mean she's asking me to sever the emotional pull that's had me in a chokehold since the day we met?

"Stop feeling? Stop remembering? Stop loving you? "

I can't. Three fucking years, and I can't let her go.

"Greedy," she says on a sob.

"Shh," I soothe. I cocoon her body with mine, my cock still buried deep inside her, exactly where it belongs.

When moisture hits my lips, I bend low to kiss away the tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

"We aren't over," I whisper. "We were never over, Tem."

"Greedy," she says on a gasp. Her body shudders, and she releases a full-out sob.

I want to spin her around, hold her, promise to never let her go. But I have to say my piece.

"I loved you. I fucking loved you." The partial truth is hard to force out. I think she knows, but I need to be sure. Circling her shoulders and cradling her back against my chest, I confess into her hair, "Hunter, I still love you. I can't stop. I don't ever want to stop."

She sucks in a shuddering breath. "Greedy," she pleads again, her voice a whimper, as she tries to turn in my arms. She's lax now, limp and leaning back against me. Like she's out of fight. Or maybe she's just finally ready to stop fighting our connection.

Before I can turn her around and look her in the eye, the door flies open beside us.

His Royal Highness flies into the room, seething, seeking out Hunter. He freezes when he catches sight of her, then he shifts his focus to me, and his expression morphs into a glare.

Levi is two steps behind him. He freezes beside his new friend, his jaw dropping as he takes us in.

We're stripped down, still connected.

Hunter shifts in my arms, turning to look at her stupid European lover.

His ice-blue eyes double in size, and horror etches into the sharp angles of his stubbled jaw.

"Greedy," Hunter whispers once more, but this time to Kabir .

Between one blink and the next, he lunges in and rips her out of my arms. The move is packed with so much force that I stumble forward, arms swinging wildly to avoid smashing my face into the wall.

"Get the fuck off her!"