Untamed Hearts (5 page)

And then it isn’t a choice anymore, it’s
gravity. As natural as the waves still crashing before us on the
shore, as perfect as the sliver of silver moon hanging in the
midnight skies. I lean into her, my lips searching until they find
their rightful home; capturing her glorious mouth in a kiss so
sweet, I never want it to end.

Brit sways into me, and then she’s mine. Heat
and softness, tender and true. And I know, deep in my bones, I’ll
never be the same again.

***

He kisses like an angel. A sexy, depraved
angel, who makes me forget my own name.

God.

I fall into the kiss, needing to taste it all
before this dream fades away to nothing. Hunter’s tongue caresses
mine, soft and sensual, sending shivers of desire like lightening
through my veins.

I’ve never been kissed like this, never felt
anything like it. The scent of him, the feel of his hand against my
cheek, I’m overwhelmed, drowning in a dizzy pool of pure sensation,
but too soon, it’s not enough. I want more.

I want everything.

As if reading my mind, Hunter slides his hand
around to the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair as
the other goes around my waist, pulling me in against the hard
warmth of his torso.

I tremble. His muscles are solid beneath the
thin fabric of his T-shirt, and I slide my hands up the planes of
his back, across his broad shoulders. Hunter makes a low noise
against my mouth, and then the kiss is deeper, wilder, his tongue
searching and insistent as I melt against him, breathless in his
arms. I can’t think, I can barely breathe, all that matters is the
feel of his hands on me, and the dark, dangerous pleasure of his
mouth on mine.

All the boys I’ve kissed before, all the
fumbled, selfish groping, it’s nothing now that Hunter is kissing
me. They were just boys, I realize.

Hunter... Hunter is a
man
.

He finally pulls away, gasping for air. The look
in his eyes is wild, burning with desire for me. I feel an
answering ache, low between my thighs, a hunger that demands to be
satisfied.

“God, Brit,” he murmurs, his voice low and
gravelly. “You’re so beautiful.”

I flush. He’s not the first guy to ever tell me
that, but he’s the first one I believe.

In answer, I reach for him again, sliding my
hands through his silken hair and pulling his mouth back to mine,
where it belongs, to taste him all over again.

This kiss is deeper, darker, a lit fuse burning
closer to detonation. I press myself against him, wild with
abandon, not caring what he might think, or how it looks, only
caring about the heat of our bodies and the feel of his lips, and
the fire racing in my veins, driving me closer to the edge.

I’ve never wanted anything like this, never felt
such raging passion. It’s consuming me, crashing through my
defenses and leaving me shaking and reckless in his arms. Hunter
tears his lips from mine, but before I can make a noise of protest,
he kisses his way down my neck and along the sensitive hollow of my
collarbone, making me moan with the pleasure of his lips. I feel
him gasp against me, and then his hand is sliding around to my
front, brushing softly against my breast with a delicious pressure
that makes me shudder under his touch.

God, yes.

Hunter strokes again, his thumb catching my
nipple through my thin dress, and I can’t help but moan again at
the sweet friction, hearing my voice as if from far away.

“Jesus,” Hunter swears, lifting his eyes to meet
me. His breath is ragged now, his eyes bright and ravenous. “Brit,
I...”

I stop him with a kiss, then take his hand and
rise to my feet. I’m unsteady, but certain: we’re long past words,
there’s nothing left to say. Conversation would only drag me out of
this delirious state I’m in, give me time to question and
reconsider, and talk myself out of the one thing I know I need more
than anything.

Him. All of him.

Now.

I tug his hand, and Hunter comes willingly,
following me across the rocky shore to the shadow of the old
lighthouse, long since deserted. The handle gives way easily under
my grip, and the door opens, hinges groaning with age. It’s dark
inside the small, round room, but moonlight falls through the
windows, illuminating a dusty floor and some old furniture, and the
winding staircase in the corner.

I pause, my desire suddenly making way for
embarrassment. What am I doing, bringing him here? I’ve taken
shelter in the lighthouse from a dozen summer storms, days when the
winds kicked up too quick to make it back to town. I always thought
the peeling paint and old wooden furniture was romantic and faded,
telling a story of some other time, but now, I send an anxious
glance over to Hunter, wondering if he thinks it’s just a run-down
old shack.

“This is amazing,” he says instead, crossing
immediately to the old wooden chest in the corner, hand-carved and
still standing, a good twenty years after it had been abandoned.
“How is all of this still here?”

“Nobody comes around.” I shrug, “There are
easier places for the kids to hang out.”

“I love it.” Hunter goes to the far window,
looking out over the rocky shore and the bay beyond. “It’s like
we’re hidden on the edge of the world.”

He turns back to me and our eyes meet across the
small room. It’s like a switch has been flipped, flooding my body
with desire all over again. Suddenly, I remember what we were
doing, before I brought us here inside.

What we were about to do.

My breath catches in my throat as Hunter slowly
crosses the distance between us. “Thank you for bringing me here,”
he whispers, reaching to brush a lock of hair back from my eyes.
“For sharing this with me.”

I nod, entranced by the blue of his eyes, deep
as midnight in the dark room. He doesn’t realize, this place is
only part of what I’ve shared. The things I’ve told I’m tonight,
the way I’ve let him in... It’s more than I’ve given any guy
before.

“Brit” He murmurs my name, so soft, it’s barely
a whisper over the distant crashing of the ocean. “God, what you do
to me...”

He trails his index finger down my cheek, along
the curve of my jaw, then lower still. I shiver, my eyes falling
shut, lost in the darkness and the low, clawing thread of desire.
I’m hypnotized, powerless to do anything but feel the shiver of his
caress on my skin. Lower, lower, he trails his finger along my
collarbone, slowly teasing along the neckline of my dress.

He stops.

My eyes fly open, staring straight into his.
He’s watching me, studying me with such intensity, I want to look
away, but I can’t, I just gaze back, helpless, as both his hands
sweep up along my bare shoulders and then slowly, deliberately,
push my thin straps aside.

My heart skips. The dress is flimsy, and I’m not
wearing a bra underneath, but there’s no time to feel
self-conscious, not when Hunter’s fingertips are dancing across my
skin, sending shivers of quicksilver pleasure spiraling out from
his touch as he edges the thin fabric lower, lower, until it falls
around my waist and my breasts are bared, pale in the
moonlight.

Hunter sucks in a ragged breath.

“God... Brit...” He stares at me, and despite my
mindlessness, I feel a thrill from the desperate desire written
clear on his beautiful face.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, staring at me
like I’m a work of art, a priceless treasure. “So fucking
perfect.”

I catch my breath, waiting for the clumsy
assault: the pawing, the rough grope that’s surely coming now. But
Hunter barely moves, he just takes that one, perfect finger, and
strokes it slowly over the slope of my breast.

I shudder.

He strokes again, tantalizing, and I bite my lip
to keep from crying out. The ache in me is coiling tighter, rising
higher with every touch. Hunter gently circles one nipple, and then
slowly drags his thumb across the tight nub. I whimper, the
pressure so sweet, but somehow not enough. I feel myself arching
against his hand, my body demanding more.

Hunter lifts his eyes to mine, and gives me a
slow, wicked smile. “You like that?” he murmurs, dropping his lips
to my neck in a trail of delicate kisses. I shiver against him in
answer, my body flooding with an unfamiliar need. “Tell me, he
whispers, his tongue wreaking havoc against the column of my
throat. “Tell me if you want more.”

And then his hand stills, gentle again, barely
brushing my skin. I feel the ache of absence, needing him touch on
me again. “Yes!” I manage a strangled sob. “Hunter, please!”

I feel him growl against me, and then both
magnificent hands are on me again, claiming me, stroking and
teasing, cupping me, driving me wild with need until I’m panting,
writhing against him.

“Hunter!” I sob, reckless. He lifts his head in
answer, finally returning his lips to mine, capturing my mouth in a
kiss of pure wanton need. His lips crash against me, tongue
plunging deeper, invading me, and just as I’m lost, delirious in
the maelstrom, his thumb and fingers close around my nipples and
squeeze.

Oh god!

I cry out against his mouth, reeling from the
sharp delight. Hunter groans, squeezing again, toying and rolling
the nubs, sending hot waves of pleasure shooting through me until
my legs give way and I clutch against him, reeling and mindless
from the pleasure he’s wrought.

Hunter holds me up, like I’m weightless in his
strong arms. He guides me to a corner of the room and gently lowers
me to the floor, spreading his sweater below me on the ground. I
sink down, and he settles himself beside me. Moonlight falls
through the window, casting a silver shadow across us both. His
hair glints gold, skin shimmering, and his eyes...

They gaze at me with such tenderness, and such
desire. As if he’s teetering on the edge, like me, overwhelmed by
the emotions crashing over us.

We stay there, suspended for a moment. Waiting,
barely breathing, a world of emotion passing silently in the
night.

And then he breaks. Reaching for me, Hunter
scoops me against his body, rolling to trap me below him as his
lips claim mine. Greedily, I kiss him back, my legs parting to wrap
around his waist, my hands roving, hungry to touch him. He grabs my
ass, pulling me closer, and I slide my palms under his T-shirt,
reveling in the feel of smooth skin and the ridge of taut
muscle.

His body is perfection.

I arch up against him, my heart stopping as I
feel the hard pressure of him between my thighs. But there’s no
time to feel shamed or cautious, not with his lips ravaging me, the
weight of him pressing me into the floor; the violent, aching
desire in me, circling and coiling and crying out for some
release.

I tug at his shirt, impatient, and Hunter breaks
away, ripping his T-shirt over his head and tossing it aside before
laying back and covering my body against with his own. This time,
it’s skin on skin, a perfect sensation, heaven right here on earth,
but I barely have time to revel in it before Hunter rolls us so I’m
straddling his lap.

I gasp for air, finding my balance, reaching to
take his face in both my hands as I kiss him with everything I
have. He slides his hands down my naked back, over the curve of my
ass, still covered by my dress, and then his fingers are on my
thighs, dancing upwards, pushing the fabric higher and higher. I
shiver, suddenly nervous, but the feel of his caress is too good to
stop; the scrape of his teeth against my lower lip, the friction
between us. His fingers trace higher, until his thumb grazes the
edge of my panties, and sweeps softly across the apex of my
thighs.

Oh!

I freeze in his arms at the contact. Hunter
pauses, lifting his hand to take hold of my chin, gently holding it
level, his gaze searching mine. His other hand is still between us,
and his fingertips dance up my thighs and across me again, slower
this time.

I gasp for air, trembling. His eyes darken, his
jaw clutches with tension. Slowly, deliberately, he strokes his
thumb across me in a gorgeous swoop, finding the hot ache of nerves
and circling, over again, sending pleasure rippling out through my
whole body.

I cry out, swaying forwards to rest my head
against his shoulder as he tugs my panties aside, and then his
fingers are on me, sweet and slow, circling, teasing, building the
pressure until I think I might fall apart right here.

I didn’t know my body could feel this way, that
I could lose myself in a dark haze of pleasure, desire igniting
every nerve, pure need flooding every atom until nothing exists but
his hand and my ache and the slow, relentless circling of his
fingers right at the heart of me. Somewhere, a voice is telling me
to pull back, to regain the upper hand; find the control I’ve lost.
Be safe. Distant. Detached, the way I always am.