Bought for Christmas(13)

By: Doris O Connor


Hunter shook his head and groaned. He wasn’t a randy fucking teenager, who got a boner every time he caught as much as a glimpse of a naked woman, but it seemed around Emilia that’s exactly who he was.

Her dress lay on the floor in a crumpled heap, and he bent to pick it up, ignoring his predicament. She needed sleep right now, not to be pounced on by him. The dress held her scent, and he inhaled deeply and groaned. His girl hadn’t managed to take her bra off. The clasp was half undone and digging into her back. He couldn’t leave her like that. Divesting her of the lacy garment took mere seconds that turned into the most exquisite torture as her breasts fell free, and she rolled onto her back. Arms spread wide, legs open, she looked like an offering to the gods of sex, and Hunter couldn’t tear his gaze away from the dewy wetness between her thighs. The urge to taste her was overwhelming, but he turned his back instead, opened the chest of drawers that held his supplies, and took out a pack of wet wipes instead. It was clear that exhaustion had claimed her, before she’d had a chance to freshen up, so using the wipes Hunter proceeded to clean her up. Starting with her face, he wiped away the remnants of make-up still clinging to her cheeks, and she stirred and tried to wave him away with feeble hand movement.

Hunter grinned when one of her little hands made contact with his chin, and grasping both of her wrists in one hand pinned her arms down above her head.

Emilia’s eyes fluttered open, and after a moment of panic they settled on him and she relaxed somewhat.

“What are you doing?” Her back arched when he ran another wet wipe down her throat and into her cleavage, washing each breast in turn. A moan slipped from Emilia’s lips, and her nipples hardened under his fingertips. It was an invitation he couldn’t resist and releasing her wrists he curled her fingers around one of the inbuilt hand holds on the headboard.

“Keep them there, and do not move, or I’ll have to restrain you, kitten. Are we clear?”

He grasped the heavy mounds of her breasts, and when she didn’t respond, squeezed hard. A shudder went through Emilia. She gasped, and her sweet scent increased as her heartbeat sped up. Hunter grinned and rubbed his beard roughened jaw over the sensitive buds until Emilia squirmed underneath him. She wouldn’t be able to see him clearly with all the lights off, but thanks to his superior vision, he had no such issues. Her skin flushed in arousal, and her legs thrashed aimlessly, as he continued to manipulate her buds with his teeth, lips, and tongue, yet she kept hold of the hand support with a white knuckled grip.

“Good girl, you keep holding on now.”

He glanced up her body, and grinned as she arched her back further, seemingly eager to have his hands back on her.

“Yes, Sir, please don’t stop. Oh, yes.”

Hunter resumed his attention to her breasts, licking first one and then the other nipple, and Emilia panted her need.

“I love these tits, kitten. So responsive. I bet you could come just by me doing this.”

Taking one erect bud between his teeth he bit down hard, and Emilia jerked. He pinched the other nipple, and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, stretching the tissue as far as it would give.

“Shhh, my sweet girl, take this for me. Let the pain morph into pleasure. That’s my girl.”

He continued to nibble around her areola, alternating hard bites with soothing kisses, until she was once again making incoherent sounds of pleasure that told him how close she was to coming. Emilia groaned when he withdrew, leaving her hanging on the cusp of her release, but Hunter had to withdraw or lose his shit.

His cock was so hard it hurt, and his jaw ached with the need to claim what was his. His bear prowled just under the surface of his skin.

“I need to go.”

He made to move off the bed, but he underestimated her need to please him. Emilia wrapped her small hands around his shoulders and pressed her naked body into his back. It proved his undoing, as she rubbed her soft curves along his sweat slicked skin. His scars were at their worst on his back. Their texture would be rough on her sensitive nipples, and judging by her heavy breaths in his ear the little minx was using them to keep up the stimulation. He should stop her, he knew that, but as her movements grew more urgent, her breaths more erratic, he sat transfixed instead, as she fell over that edge with noisy abandonment. Fingernails digging into his biceps, she bit down on his shoulder to muffle her scream of completion, and his bear roared with such force it shook the bed.

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