Erin Dameron-Hill (19 page)

Chapter Seventeen

The knob turned slowly, and the Hunter peeked his head inside the bathroom. His hat was off so that his long, brown hair was finally free to blow in the air-conditioned breeze. It was only the second time I had ever seen him without the hat. It was the first time his hair wasn’t in a ponytail. It looked so silky, so touchable, so soft that I wanted to run my fingers through those perfect tresses, feel that mane in my hands.

“Did you say my name?” he asked, an eyebrow raised into his forehead.

“Yeah.”

He smiled, “I haven’t gone by Morty since I was a kid.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. I like hearing you say it.”

A small grin crossed my face and then it instantly died. I felt bad for yelling at him, at being frustrated with him when in reality, I was frustrated and angry at myself. I hadn’t been able to deal with the events of the past few days and so I lashed out. And he didn’t deserve it. He had helped me so much and all I had done was give him hell.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, this time looking directly into those beautiful, star-lit eyes.

“It’s alright. Really. I don’t mind you calling me Morty.”

“No, I’m sorry for being…”

“Upset?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that. We all cope in different ways. If you feel the need to yell or cry or be angry, then so be it. I’m not here to judge you.”

I kept staring into those dark eyes and asked, “What are you here for?”

His eyes narrowed for the slightest of seconds, “There’s a double meaning to that question, isn’t there?”

I smiled, “I guess so.”

“Come here,” he spoke gently and fervently.

I practically ran the two steps towards him and shoved my face into his chest once again. I loved to hear his perfect heart beat, to feel his warm touch, to know that he would protect me.

He kissed the top of my head and said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I looked back into his tanned and dirty face and replied, “You too.”

The Hunter slowly slid his white and grimy shirt over his head and dropped it onto the white tiled floors. I had seen parts of his chest before, but this time, my breath caught. He was a model of perfection and of muscle. His nipples were the ideal shade of pink and a soft trail of fine brown hair ran down from his belly button to lower parts past his jeans. His abs contracted as he pulled off his pants and boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. I finally got to see him completely and utterly nude. And I stood there, frozen, and gulping so loudly I should have been embarrassed.

He was already slightly hard, erect, and waiting for my touch. I wanted to reach for him, reach for that incredible and solid member, feel it slide through my palms, my fingers and then lick the tip gently only to swallow him whole.

But I didn’t. I just stood there staring and fantasizing. I didn’t know what to do. It had been so long and I was so nervous that I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even blink.

The Hunter seemed to understand my hesitancy and his calloused, rough, and smooth hands began to rub at my bare forearms. It was like he was pumping heat throughout my body, bringing blood to the surface in an attempt to relax my rigid muscles. His warmth echoed through my body sending tremulous chills that left me standing cold. I don’t know why that hot touch left me frigid…I guess I was just so nervous that I was scared. But if that was the case, then where did my inhibitions go when we were in the Hummer? I was all over him then, so why couldn’t I move now?

“Sophie,” he asked softly and with a faintly ragged voice, “what’s wrong?”

I took a deep inhale and closed my eyes, “I’m not sure. I can’t seem to move.”

He pulled me closer, touching skin on skin, heart to heart, and breath to breath. I breathed in his musky sandalwood gun-powder scent and could taste it on the back of my throat. As soon as I swallowed, my jackal began to pace. My beast had had a long morning and judging from the way it was moving back and forth, it wasn’t finished. It was still demanding more payment for the earlier favor. I could hear it growl, sniff the air in that dark cave and stare directly at the naked man in front of me.

I knew my beast had longed for the Hunter and it was salivating at the thought that this morning, today, its wish would come true. A part of me didn’t want to give in to the beast--I didn’t want to agree with the canine, but I stood frozen for a reason.

Morty was so beautiful that I didn’t want to fail him in anyway. And what if, after all these years of solitary, I had lost the ability to seduce, to kiss, to touch, to make love? I was plagued with the ability to constantly think, never just react as a normal human would. I had to analyze the situation and then run away so that I wouldn’t get hurt. After all, if I had ran away when my attacker was staring at me, I might have had a fighting chance.

I shook my head, no, that’s not true. The attack would probably have been much more violent because wolves are cursorial, we love to chase frightened, running things. I don’t know why, but we do. So being frozen would help in that situation.

I always froze when I was scared. And as my eyes roamed over those beautiful, well-defined pecs and abs, I knew I was scared. I was afraid to disappoint him, afraid that I would lose him. I don’t know when my mind had decided it wanted to be with the Hunter forever but it had. And now I was frightened to take another step towards Morty, frightened that if I gave myself to him that he would leave just like any other man. Just like every man has done in the past.

I didn’t want Morty to leave me. I know that sounds desperate and needy and clingy, but my heart literally cried every time I couldn’t see him. How unhealthy is that? I had only known Morty for a few days now and there is no way that a bond that strong could have formed in just a few days. Right? According to Redbook and other magazines love takes time, a lot of time, that instant attraction is just that, instant attraction, nothing more.

I took a deep breath and realized, that yes, I was definitely over-analyzing the situation. Just kiss him, touch him. Shouldn’t sex be like riding a bicycle--something that you never forget how to do?

The Hunter moved past me toward the bath and my eyes followed his movements. I knew when I had first seen him in those jeans that his ass must have been amazing and sure enough, it was. His cheeks were like two soft and silky full moons, round and muscular and calling to me. I wanted to sink my teeth into that firm butt, grasp them tight as he’s thrusting deeper into me.

So, why wasn’t I? I believe being naked in front of someone is an open invitation to sex, so why was I still standing here?

No, don’t answer that. Don’t over think it, just touch him. Let your body do the talking from here.

I know I’m talking to myself, and that’s just fine. At least my feet were stalking behind the Hunter, quietly and hungrily coming closer to him.

The water from the spicket was spraying loudly, concealing my soft footsteps, hiding my presence from the Hunter. My beast smiled and licked its lips in anticipation. My heart began to beat faster, savoring the flavor of the Hunt. I happened to glance at myself in the mirror and my green eyes were gone. Very gold and very round eyes stared back at me. I was looking at Morty with my wolf eyes. I was staring at him like he was nothing more than a juicy, succulent meal.

I felt myself smile.

Morty turned around to face me, only he thought I was further away so he jumped slightly. He looked taken aback, almost shocked and then his face relaxed completely and his heart continued to its steady, rhythmic beating.

I had frightened the Hunter, albeit for just a moment, but in that miniscule moment I felt a surge of adrenaline so fierce, that it was screaming in my head. It needed an outlet, it needed physical exercise. And right now, I wasn’t thinking of a mile run, no, there are other physical motions that work just as well.

I pulled the sink drawer out and rummaged quickly through nail polish remover, tweezers, etc until I found a neatly wrapped Trojan. I hoped it still worked, but screw it, my animal was racing uncontrollably inside that dark cave, scraping and biting, pushing me to eat this man alive.

The Hunter stepped backward into the tub, water splashing ever so quietly. He grasped my hand and pulled me next to him, his touch slipping on the clear and bloody goop still stuck to my hands.

Slowly we sat down in the hot water, steam clouding the room creating a foggy haze that blanketed our vision. I had chills on my arms but I wasn’t cold. I was hot all over. Fire was raging in between my legs forcing me to be wet and pulsing.

Beads of sweat ran down the Hunter’s five o’clock shadow, occasionally resting on those course hairs. I reached closer to him, felt his breath warm my already sweaty and dirty neck and my lips kissed those beads of sweat from his jaw, absorbing that salty liquid. My tongue flicked out and continued licking him, licking my clear goop that had managed to stick to him, licking my blood that had crusted on his neck. I paused, for just an instant, and savored my taste on his pulse. It pumped so violently under his skin that I wanted to rip it out, take his life in my mouth, drink him down.

Instead, I lightly bit his neck, scraping my teeth delicately against that baby fine skin.

The Hunter moaned throatily, his voice being cut off by the anticipation of my mouth. And I couldn’t stop. I kept licking off my blood and goop from him, licking and swallowing all of the swamp gunk and sweat that was clinging to him. He tasted so good, so natural, so pure--he tasted like the woods, like a forest on a rainy day, wild and wet. I knew most of that taste was me and I was in heaven swallowing that other worldly power transformation.

I bent forward, dragging my tongue across his chest, his pert nipples, his fine brown chest hair. His heart was beating madly against his chest and I lingered there, for just a moment, to listen to the life flowing through his body, to listen to what kept him alive. I kissed his heart slowly and moved on. I knew my beast wanted to stay by his heart, to drink his life, but there was another body part pumping blood and calling my name that I couldn’t resist.

My tongue led the way down his happy trail, down to where I most wanted my mouth to be. He was no longer semi-hard, no he was fully erect, fully waiting to be taken inside. My palm slid around his velvety smooth shaft slightly pumping and I brought my lips to the tip of his head. I licked softly, flicking and tasting his manhood, and then I swallowed him. For a split second, I choked, remembering to swallow and suck instead of allow my gag reflex to kick in. It had been a long time since I had given a blow job. I was a bit out of practice. But I was right, it was like riding a bicycle. My head came down again and again as my throat pumped his penis, leaving saliva to spill down his shaft and my hand. My free palm lightly gripped his right testicle and I massaged it tenderly as I continued to lick, suck and swallow him.

I heard the distant moans of pleasure from somewhere above me and remembered that I wasn’t the only one in the tub. I was so focused on that perfect erection I had actually forgotten it belonged to someone.

I brought myself to my knees, regretfully removing his penis from my mouth and my lips went for the man standing in front of me.

His soft and firm mouth hugged mine tightly, occasionally thrusting his tongue inside my mouth to fully taste me. He came up for air and pulled my hair back to reveal my neck. His own tongue, slippery and course licked up and down my pulse and he continued to pull my head back by my hair, while my beast continued to come alive.

The Hunter’s hands found my breast and he pulled it up to his mouth and suckled it softly at first, then tugged and bit it until my body was shaking so violently, I wanted him to fuck me then and there. No more foreplay, just sex.

I tried to bring his mouth back to mine, but his lips had moved on to my other nipple, his mouth swallowing my breast. I watched as my breast flowed in and out of his mouth, as my nipple was pulled and bitten on. My breath caught and finally I managed to say, “Fuck me.”

The Hunter shook his head and smiled maliciously. With both hands he lifted me to a standing position and he knelt in front of me. His mouth licked down my abdomen sending chills of expectation down my body.

My heart skipped a beat as his lips lingered over the top of my pelvis, kissing and licking his way down to my feminine core.

My beast paced faster inside that dark cave and its tongue mercilessly slopped out, panting and nearly begging for more. I wanted to let go, to feel everything the Hunter was doing, but the beast was so strong, so involved, that I couldn’t. If I did, then the jackal would be let out and I’m not sure the Hunter would survive.

So, instead of fully feeling that slippery and course tongue sliding over my clit, over my wet lips, I…oh, who the hell am I kidding? There is no way I could ignore that.

I moaned loudly and grabbed the back of his head as his tongue thrust deeper into my core. He was eating me from the inside out and forcing me to tighten around his tongue and now, Oh God, his two fingers. They thrust forcefully into me, curling and pushing in, rubbing the area just behind my clit as his tongue searched for that creamy goodness that was oozing out from me.

The soft patter of sounds escaping my mouth grew louder into screams as he pushed and licked me. I wanted him to stop, to stop this teasing, this cumming and just fuck me. I wanted to feel his huge member sliding inside me, pumping me, fucking me.