Billionaire With a Twist 3(24)

“It feels good,” he admitted, taking a seat next to me, his knee pressing against mine. “To be building something on my own now, to know that I can build something, that I wasn’t just following in the family footsteps because I couldn’t do anything else. I think…” He ducked his head, oddly shy for a moment. “I think my grandfather would have approved.”

I reached out, ran a gentle hand through his hair. “What was he like?” I asked softly.

“Hard as nails,” Hunter said with a rueful grin. “My parents would drop me off here so they could attend business meetings in the big city without worrying about me, and I’d sulk my head off—no movie theater to walk to? What was the world coming to?” He gave a little laugh. “But my grandpa took me out to the woods each day. Didn’t say much, would just start whittling, or looking through his binoculars, or setting up a duck blind or a fishing pole. He’d let me rant and rave and whine and when I’d finally tired myself out, there he’d be, with this little smile on his face, like he was in the best, most interesting place on the whole planet, like he was privileged to be there. Eventually I got so tired of whining I gave up and gave paying attention like him a try. And when I saw what he saw—the plants and the animals, the earth and the air and the water, the way they all fit together like pieces of some grand plan—when I saw that, I knew he was right.”

“That’s beautiful,” I whispered. I cupped his cheek. “I feel the same way about this place—it’s the most amazing land I’ve ever seen. I want to know all its secrets.”

Hunter smiled. “I just wish I’d told him, before he passed. How much he taught me.”

My heart broke for him. “Oh, Hunter…”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’ve learned from that mistake. I’ll always tell people how much they mean to me from now on.” He put his hand on my knee, his thumb making circles on my skin. “I couldn’t do this without you, Ally. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“I should be thanking you,” I whispered, and I was going to say more but then our lips were so close, and then our lips were touching, hesitant at first until he pressed back more firmly; my tongue darted out and teased into his mouth, stroking and caressing in the way that I knew would make him groan into me, move his hand to the back of my neck and press me closer, yes, just like that.

Back burner, what back burner? Who’d said anything about a back burner? Not this girl.

His hands slid up my waist to cup my breasts, his thumbs teasing over my nipples, hardening against his touch until I squirmed in my seat. Another slow, teasing circle, and I couldn’t take it anymore, had to clamber into his lap, my skirt riding up to my waist as I pressed my cunt against the thick bulge of his erection.

I wasn’t wearing any panties, and by the way Hunter groaned and bucked up into me, he could tell.

I slid down the length of him, blowing a warm stream of air against his fly, making him groan and jerk his head back against the table. I smiled wickedly as I slid his pants down, freeing his hard cock. I stroked him, savoring the length and breadth of him, my * clenching tight at the thought that he would soon be inside me.

“Oh God, Ally, amazing, you’re so amazing, that feels so good…”

“This will feel even better,” I promised, and I took him into my mouth.

Now that we weren’t in a restaurant bathroom, I had the luxury of really taking my time with him. I laved the bottom of his cock, my tongue searching downward to flick softly against his most delicate spots before I licked my way back up to the tip and sucked him deep into my throat.

At the sound of Hunter’s moan, I released him to tease at the sensitive skin under his head, then took him deep again. He groaned as if there were a road’s worth of gravel in his throat, his hand finding the back of my neck and massaging it with grateful fervor, his strong fingers digging into the muscles of my shoulders. I hummed around him, finding my rhythm, savoring the taste of him and the way he writhed under my ministrations, helpless before the touch of my lips and tongue…

He groaned again, and pulled me away and upwards. “Need you,” he growled against the shell of my ear, pushing me back onto the table, spreading my legs as he clambered on top of me. The papers behind me on the table rustled as he settled his weight over me and thrust his hard cock into my wet, waiting *.

“Oh!” My hands scrabbled at the polished wood as he filled me up, gripping futilely at the edges of the table before coming up to dig into the small of his back. He was still wearing his shirt, why was he still wearing his shirt—I ripped it off, threw it across the room, and pressed myself up against him, wrapping my legs around his hips as my hands explored the planes of his chest and back, that sweat-slick skin, so smooth and perfect—my tongue flicked out, licked a drop of sweat from his neck, and he moaned, thrust harder into me, his head falling into the niche between my neck and shoulder, his breath coming in hard fast pants that made my * clench tighter around his dick.

“Want to sink into you,” he murmured against my skin. “Want to sink into you and be with you always, be strong with you, feel you with me, feel you around me—”

“I’m with you, I’m with you,” I moaned, biting at his shoulder, clawing at his back, God, I needed him so badly, needed more and more of him and more was never enough—“You feel so good inside me, don’t ever want you not inside me, come in me, Hunter, f*ck me hard and come in my *—”