Destined for the Dom (Masters of Submission, #2)(16)
His thrusts gathered speed, driving inside her *, bringing her body to the peak of arousal once more. She stared into his wonderful blue eyes, wondering what he was thinking. Was she just another woman in a long line of many, or did she really share an intimate, lifelong connection with this man? Hunter hadn’t stayed long at Club Submission. He couldn’t have been there for more than ten minutes before returning home. Had he missed her that much?
She smoothed her fingers to his face, stroking away the thick blond hair that had fallen over his eyes. As another orgasm grew closer, she brushed her finger to his lips, then leaned forward and kissed him slowly, savoring the feel of his tongue entwined with hers. In response he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her, until she felt protected in the big, warm blanket of his arms.
He kissed her cheek. “Shhh, you’re safe now, Zo?.” They were the very same words she recalled him saying when they were kids at the children’s home, and she’d become frightened by something. Only, they weren’t kids now. Hunter Black was a man, and Zo? Leighton was a woman. A woman he was deep inside of.
Feelings of utter contentment and happiness washed over her as he f*cked her with ever-increasing passion and purpose, making her climax yet again. Her breasts caressed against the warm, masculine skin of his chest. Her nipples chaffing wonderfully against his piercings as her body glided over his.
A wonderful warm feeling spread out from her womb. “Oh, Hunter, it’s there again.”
He stared into her eyes, watching the subtle changes as yet another orgasm came flooding through. Her body twitched involuntarily as whimpers of sexual pleasure spilled from her lips.
“So beautiful. You’re so…beautiful,” he whispered, as he speared her * with even greater conviction and energy. The sheer power in his muscular hips and thighs lifted her whole body from the bed as his final thrust left his body, along with his seed. A deep, guttural groan came from his lips as a second spurt of ejaculate jerked inside her.
Chapter Eight
Zo? turned lazily in the bed, her whole body aching from their lovemaking. A fabulous contented ache, which made her feel wanted. Moaning appreciatively, she stretched a hand into the darkness, needing to touch Hunter. She was disappointed to discover an indentation in the mattress and a cold, empty pillow. Wide awake now, she opened her eyes, wondering where he was.
Slowly becoming accustomed to the darkness, she could just make out his imposing silhouette, filling the easy chair by the window. Moonlight streaked in, coloring his hair and body with an eerie, silvery glow. In the dim light, she saw the tattoos crisscrossing his muscular arms, as he stared silently into the darkness.
A solitary owl hooted in the distance, making her shiver involuntarily. Pittsburgh never sounded as deathly quiet as this.
“Hunter?” she cooed quietly, wondering if he’d fallen asleep.
“Get some rest, Zo?,” he whispered.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I often have trouble sleeping. I usually read, but I didn’t want to disturb you by switching on the light.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me, Hunter. I can sleep through almost anything.”
“Then you’re a lucky girl.” He sounded envious.
Zo? guessed his insomnia had a lot to do with his time in the Marines. She figured the things he’d seen on active duty weren’t conducive to a good night’s sleep. She briefly wondered if she should broach the subject, but decided against it. If Hunter wanted to talk about his time overseas, then he would.
“Seriously, you can put the light on if you want to read.”
“No, it’s kinda nice just sitting here in the dark, listening to your breathing.”
A warm feeling spread through her. Just the thought of Hunter watching over her made her feel protected. It was a far cry from the life she’d left behind in Pittsburgh, where she’d constantly had to fend for herself. Through hardship and necessity, she’d become a tough cookie. She’d had to, in order to survive, but the idea of Hunter looking out for her made her want to do the same for him.
Zo? slipped from the bed, and pulled a robe around herself. It was Hunter’s and absolutely swamped her. She padded over to him. As she stood behind his chair, she smoothed her fingers over his powerful shoulders. He squeezed her hand, making her wonder if she could help him after all.
“I’m a good listener. I don’t shock easily,” she whispered affectionately in his ear.
Hunter took a long, slow breath, held it for a second or two, then slowly released it. He patted her hand. “It’s not easy discussing some things, Peaches.”
“Well, in that case, did I ever tell you I was good at Champissage?” She was determined to lighten his mood.
“What the hell is Champissage, and can I eat it?”
Zo? giggled. “You’d have a hard job. It’s an ancient form of Indian head massage. It’s very, very good for relaxation. I have a diploma in it.”
“Are you kidding me? Little Zo? Leighton has a diploma.” Hunter sounded amused.
“And what’s so shocking about that?” With mock outrage, she playfully slapped his wrist.
“Zo?, as I remember it, just like me, you never took your education seriously.”
“Yeah, the care home system hardly equipped us kids for success. I left St. Mark’s with nothing. No education, no qualifications, nothing. All I had to my name was a bag full of old clothes, and a few personal possessions.” She wistfully shook her head, realizing how inadequate she’d felt when she’d walked through the gates of St. Mark’s for the last time. “I mean, I was an eighteen-year-old kid with nothing. How the hell was I supposed to cope with life in the outside world?”