30. Hunter

"No, no. It's fine. You don't have to return the favor," I stammer.

He reels back and gives me an incredulous look. "Your eyes are hazy, and your cheeks are flushed pink." With one thumb, he traces along my bottom lip. "What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn't help you out?"

Desire licks up my spine. My linen pants are already undone, hanging open and showing off the lacy trim of my blush-pink panties.

I shimmy them down until they're at my knees and I can spread my legs wider.

Holding back a groan, I slip a hand down my stomach and watch Levi.

He's not looking back at me. His sole focus is on my fingertips as they inch lower. "Get that flimsy scrap of fabric out of my way," he orders huskily.

"They're called panties, Duke," I tease, stroking one finger over my mound and gently brushing my clit.

"I don't care what they're called. Move 'em, or I'll rip them off for you."

My heart lurches at the command. Talk about a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets. Or in our case, the truck. I'm as delighted as I am intrigued.

"You want to see my pussy?" I purr.

He exhales loudly, his whole body deflating. "So fucking badly. I'm half-hard again just thinking about it."

I brush the fabric aside, revealing a small patch of hair and my clitoral hood.

Levi's eyes grow darker, his lids heavy. His chest rises and falls quickly. He's got his hands clenched into fists on his thighs, like he's holding himself back.

"Do you want to touch my pussy?"

"More than I've ever wanted anything in my life," he admits. "But you're going to have to teach me. Show me where to touch you and how you like to it."

He offers me his hand, palm up, two fingers lifted and ready. I bring them to my mouth, moistening them with my saliva, and then guide him so those callused pads brush my clit.

My core spasms the moment he touches me. I'm warm and wet, growing achier by the second as he locks in on what I like and starts to learn my rhythm.

He lets me use his hand, following my lead, adding a bit of pressure here or a pinch of my clit there.

"You like that, Daisy?" he croons. He keeps his attention fixed on the apex of my bare thighs, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates.

"Yes. Fuck, yes," I preen, arching back as I chase the pleasure.

I want more. I fucking need more.

"This is how you like to get off?"

I grip his hand so tightly I bet it's turning blue. I'm all twisted up, but it's still not enough. "More," I beg.

"More?" he questions, licking his lips as he meets my gaze.

More. The single word is all-encompassing. I need more pressure. I crave more grit. I love oral. I can come from G-spot stimulation, too. But I can't get myself off with just my own hand. Give me a toy… or two. Give me a man—his cock, or his tongue; doesn't matter.

Suddenly, I'm not sure I can get off, and the last thing I want to do is explain that to Levi. It's not his fault. It's not even my fault. I just know what I like, and I know what I need. My brain goes into overdrive as intrusive thoughts plague me.

"I like it rough," I admit, resting my head against his shoulder as he works me over.

"Fucking hell, Daisy. You can't say stuff like that to me," he groans. "I don't have a condom on me."

Resignedly, I exhale and sink into his lap.

With one finger on my chin, he tips my head back, gently forcing me to look at him. "You could grind on me. Would that work?"

It would, but I can't do that to him. "Your legs," I remind him, defeated. There's no way I can bear down on his incision, and with the way his other quad just gave out—

"Who said anything about a leg?" He hits me with a devilish smile, then stretches out his arm and rolls back his sleeve. He works it all the way up to his elbow, then flexes his forearm in front of his body.

Once he has his forearm positioned between his thighs, he looks to me with his brows raised expectantly.

"Well?"

Arousal slips from me, coating my inner thighs. His forearms are incredible. Tanned and covered in light blond hair. Muscled and strong. Thick and impossibly hard. I'm too far gone to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Tell me if it hurts," I whisper, lowering myself onto him. For a moment, I graze my core against him so I can feel the ripple of tendons each time he flexes. I hover for a breath, closing my eyes and giving in to the moment.

Then I sink down completely and let him take my weight.

The flame inside me that had almost banked sparks back to life instantly. "Oh."

"A good oh?"

"A really good oh," I tell him. The contact is so intense I could cry. The pressure is everything I need and exactly what I was craving.

He twists his arm slightly, the muscle shifting against my clit with each flex. "Ride me," he demands, keeping his arm locked in place.

Slowly, I roll my hips, finding my pace, moaning every time my clit presses into his flexed tendons. In no time at all he's coated with my slickness from wrist to elbow.

Chin tucked, I zero in on our connection, watching as I slide up and down. It's erotic, and it feels exquisite. Every shift of my hips adds more pressure. Every flex of his forearm ratchets up my desire.

"I'm close," I pant after a few minutes of steady pressure. "I'm so close."

"Eyes on me, Daisy. I want to watch my girlfriend's face when I make her come for the first time."

Obediently, I tear my attention away from his soaking wet forearm as I grind my pussy against him and chase my release. Eye contact only ramps up the ecstasy overtaking me. My mouth falls open as the first coil of pleasure reaches maximum tautness and my body snaps.

"Fuck, yes, yes."

I don't look away as I grind out my orgasm.

"Thatta girl," he tells me, nodding and biting his lip as my insides sing with pleasure.

Even after my body has been wrung out and my pussy is done spasming, I don't drop his gaze. The look of pride he's wearing is almost too much. I grin back, then bury my face in his shoulder.

For several moments, he rubs my back and murmurs sweet words in my ear. My breathing is still erratic, but my racing heart has little to do with the amazing orgasm I just experienced. No, it has everything to do with the word Levi used when he referred to me. This man just called me his girlfriend.

And there was no mention of the fake part this time.