by Sam Mariano
“No, you’re not,” he says, letting his tongue dart out to taste my nipple.
“I should have put my clothes back on,” I realize, already growing short of breath. “You distracted me with the promise of Italy pictures and I didn’t want to take the time.”
“An honest mistake.” My arms fall to my sides as he kisses his way down my abdomen. My stomach muscles tighten in response.
“Which I never got to see,” I remind him, grabbing onto the bedding as he moves lower and kisses my hipbone.
He grabs my panties and drags them down. “Plenty of time to show you pictures later.”
“Hunter,” I murmur as he lifts my legs and drapes them over his shoulders.
“Riley,” he mimics, looking up at me with those dark, beautiful eyes of his.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I think I’m about to devour your pussy,” he tells me, spreading me open and gazing right between my legs.
I squirm and try to squeeze my legs together, but I can’t. He doesn’t let me. As soon as I try to draw my thighs closer together, he grips them and pries them apart.
“Nope,” he says, shooting me a look of warning that gets me hot. “Play with your tits.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but since I have to do as I’m told, I also bring my palms up to squeeze my own flesh while he watches.
Approval gleams in his gorgeous brown eyes. The mere sight of it makes my tummy tighten with lust.
Damn him.
I deserved to be mad, but here he is, draining me of my righteous anger and making me want him instead. I drag a thumb over my hardened nipple, holding his gaze as I exhale sharply.
“Tell me you want me to eat your pussy, baby.”
The knot of arousal tightens inside me, making it impossible to remain still.
Before I can comply, Hunter goes on, his voice smooth and sure, thick with his own growing arousal. “Tell me how much you want my tongue inside you, lapping up every delicious inch.” As he speaks, he leans closer. He gets so close, I can feel his hot breath on my bare pussy.
“Hunter,” I whimper, my fingers digging into the sheets.
His tongue darts out and he licks my opening. I gasp, throwing my head back into the pillow.
“Say please, Riley.”
Defeated, I close my eyes. “Please, Hunter. Please eat my pussy. I need it. I need you inside me.”
“Good girl,” he purrs.
His approval sends a shiver straight through me.
Then he spreads me open with his fingers, and my whole body lights up as he pushes his tongue into me.
It’s exquisite torture, trying not to buck as he explores every silky inch. When Hunter eats me out, he’s not just there to do what he has to in order to get the job done—he wants his mouth on every crevice of me. He wants to explore me, mark me. He eats me like he loves doing it, and it’s so fucking intoxicating.
When I arch against the bed and grab desperately for his hair, his grip on my hips tightens, his mouth on my pussy grows greedier. I ride his face, crying out with abandon as tremors wrack my body.
His mouth never leaves me as I ride wave after wave of pleasure, until finally, I need him to. My grip on his hair eases. I let go and fall back against the bed, completely boneless.
Hunter could take his cock out and fuck me right now, I certainly wouldn’t complain, but instead he climbs back up the bed and pulls me into the protective shelter of his embrace.
I’m so vulnerable right after I come, and he knows it. He holds me close and pets my hair. I hold onto him tight, listening to his strong heartbeat.
“That was lovely,” I murmur, once I can trust myself to speak. “Thank you.”
Hunter tips my head back so he can bend to kiss my lips. “You never have to thank me for making you come, Catnip. It’s my favorite thing to do.”
I smile against his lips, then wrap my arms around his neck and hug him. “I love you.”
His arm tightens around my waist, keeping me pulled snugly against his body. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Sixty Three
Riley
New York is absolutely beautiful at night.
It was beautiful earlier in the day, too, but as the limo drives us down Fifth Avenue, I can’t help admiring the great architecture and the bright city lights.
I’ve never really been anywhere before. One summer when I was little, Mom took a temporary position on Nantucket so we could spend our off days on the beach, but I certainly haven’t traveled far.
Hunter places a hand on my thigh, exposed by the slit. His touch draws my attention and I look back at him.
His eyes gleam with affection. “Are you excited?”
Beaming back at him, I nod. “It’s so pretty here.”
He points up ahead. “That’s the club, so we’ll be getting out in a minute.”
There are cars on the street, likely from other guests, so our driver has to wait to turn. “We shouldn’t have brought a limo,” I tell him. “It’s too big, the city’s too busy.”
Hunter shrugs, not all that concerned with taking up more space than he needs to.
As traffic moves a little bit, our limo turns onto the street where the entrance to the building is. I can see it up ahead, a big building with ivory columns and wrought iron gates. It’s a building from another time, meant only for a certain class of people.
I don’t belong in a place like this.
My awe begins to fade, replaced by the inky grime of intimidation.
If Hunter’s dad belongs in a place like this, what if he realizes right away I’m not the caliber of person he’d want to be with his son?
At home, it’s easy to forget who Hunter is. Sure, he has money, but there isn’t a huge disparity in our lifestyles. He’s perfectly comfortable coming over to my two bedroom house to have dinner with my working class family. There’s no sense that he’s better than us just because he has more than we do.
This building… this building was constructed to let common people know the people inside are better than them.
Looking over at Hunter, I ask what might be a ridiculous question. “Is your dad nice?”
“What?”
My heart starts to pound as the driver puts the car in park right in front of the entrance. It’s a manned entrance with gates that have been opened since there’s an event here tonight, but it looks anything but welcoming.
“I just… we’ve talked about him a little, but I’ve obviously never met him. Your mom said he can be a bit intense and volcanic, but you seem to like him. I’m just not sure what to expect.”
“Nah, that’s nothing you have to worry about. This is an important event, so he’ll have his public face on tonight. But he’s a good guy, and he knows I’m bringing you. He’s looking forward to meeting you.”
“What if he takes one look at me and thinks I’m trash?”
Hunter rolls his eyes like I’m being absurd. “He won’t think that.”
“But what if he does?”
“Then fuck him,” Hunter says simply, like it doesn’t matter. Squeezing my thigh, he meets my gaze and says seriously, “You’re my family, Riley. Anyone who doesn’t approve of you can fuck right off.”
The limo door opens. I look up at the driver. I’m closest to the door, but Hunter climbs out first.
Once he’s out on the snow dusted sidewalk, he extends his hand, reaching in for me.
Shoving down my nerves, I gather the soft hem of my dress and take his hand as I climb out of the car.
There’s a chill in the air even though I’m wearing an expensive fur coat. I mostly feel it on my legs, especially my left one since the slit opens when I walk.
Self-consciously clutching the coat closer to my body, I gaze up at the imposing building and take Hunter’s arm.
My heels click against the ground as we make our way to the entrance. I’m not used to wearing heels, but Hunter took me out for lunch and shopping when we first got into th
e city today. He offered to buy me a pair of black Louboutins for a classic look, but I didn’t think the red soles would look right with my blue dress.
I found a designer who suited me much better and grabbed a pair of black suede slingbacks that had the added advantage of being on sale. The heel is much lower so I can walk in them more comfortably, but suede maybe wasn’t the best choice for winter.
Thankfully, the sidewalk is clear but for the few snowflakes that have fallen. On the drive over, it began to snow, but they’re light, pretty snowflakes, so most of them don’t even stick to the ground.
I breathe in the fresh scent of the falling snow and a smile touches my lips. I love snow.
Hunter tugs on my arm, keeping me on track as we walk past the security guards and under the covered walkway into the building. We move at a leisurely pace since people are up ahead of us.
“I like the fountain,” I tell Hunter, pointing to what appears to be a courtyard.
He looks over and nods. “That’s the carriage entrance.”
My eyes widen and I look up at him. “It is not.”
His eyes gleam with amusement. “Cross my heart.”
“There’s a carriage entrance?” I demand, lightly smacking his muscular arm.
“What kind of royal ball doesn’t have a carriage entrance?” he teases.
With a forlorn sigh, I look back at it. “You should’ve warned me so I could take my phone out. I would’ve taken a picture for my mom. She’ll never believe me.”
“We can always take one on the way out. It’s not used for that anymore, but yeah. Back in the day, all the big deals in New York would come by horse and carriage. It’s a very old building,” he remarks, glancing up at it.
“I see that,” I murmur, looking ahead.
As we’re ushered inside, I’m hit by a welcome blast of warmth. I’ve barely taken two steps in, and already my surroundings leave me a little breathless.
The building’s interior is gorgeous—white marble opulence with gold ceilings. Everything about this main hall is too much—a fireplace taller than I am, ceilings so high I can’t help but feel small.
I wonder if this is how Cinderella felt when she first entered the palace.
I look over at Hunter as he escorts me to the coat check line. He seems much more at ease in a place like this than I am. He doesn’t look small, he certainly doesn’t seem to feel it.
Maybe I’m biased, though. Hunter could never look small to me.
My personal Prince Charming looks incredibly handsome in his debonair tux. Since I wore blue, he did, too. His is a darker shade—midnight blue with black lapels and black pants.
In a sea of mostly black tuxes, he stands out a bit, but I think it’s impossible for Hunter not to stand out.
He looks over at me as we walk away from the coat check, “Want to get a drink?”
“Are we allowed? We’re not in Europe, you know,” I tease.
He wraps an arm around me, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer as we head for the bar. “This isn’t the kind of function where many attendees are underage. Those that are won’t be treated like they are.”
“Not the kind of place where you get carded, huh?”
Hunter smiles faintly and shakes his head. “We’re all adults here.” He starts to lead me toward the bar, but on the way we realize there are waiters circulating, carrying gold trays full of drinks so no one has to wait in line.
We stop by an enormous Christmas tree and Hunter grabs two drinks from the white-gloved server.
“Thank you,” I murmur, since Hunter didn’t think to.
The server—who reminds me so much of Jeeves from the show Mom and I watch, I’m tempted to try to get a sneaky picture—gives me a tepid, close-lipped smile.
“I wish I could’ve brought my mom to this,” I tell Hunter as I take a sip of my champagne.
“Maybe next year I can get a couple of extra invitations.”
Next year.
He says it so naturally, like it’s a given that I’ll come to this with him every year for the rest of our lives.
I suppose since he’s shown me my options for my wedding tiara, I shouldn’t be surprised.
It still feels a little crazy.
I continue to look around the great hall as I finish my first glass of champagne. It went down so smoothly, I finished it faster than I meant to.
As we get the lay of the land, Hunter looks around for his father, but I follow the trail of people who seem to know where they’re supposed to be going.
After coat check, some of them linger and drink champagne or talk to friends, but most people seem to be ascending the marble staircase and heading to the upper levels.
Hunter and I decide to go upstairs, too. There’s a literal red carpet on the marble staircase. The older woman ahead of me is wearing white gloves.
I’m wearing a ballgown, but I still feel like I stick out like a sore thumb among this set.
When we reach the floor we’re supposed to be on, it becomes immediately clear. There are flags on display to represent three different countries, and two very regal-looking men standing on the staircase greeting guests on either side.
“Is that your dad?”
Hunter nods. “The better-looking one is,” he jests, but not really. “The other guy’s his cousin. This will probably just be a quick hello, he’ll have to keep the line moving.”
“Oh, God, I’m so nervous,” I tell him.
His grip on me tightens protectively. “Don’t be.”
Despite his advisement not to worry, my heart thrums furiously in my chest as the couple in front of us finishes up their greeting.
Butterflies fill my stomach as Hunter puts a hand on the small of my back and gently pushes me forward.
My feet don’t want to move. I hope I don’t look as nervous as I feel as I force myself to smile and move forward.
Hunter’s dad smiles as he looks from Hunter to me, his demeanor friendly.
“Hunter, so good to see you,” he says, wrapping an arm around his son and giving him a brief hug and pat on the back.
My heart fills up, but I’m not sure why. I don’t feel like I’m meeting a “big deal,” I feel like I’m meeting my boyfriend’s long lost dad, and that’s a little less intimidating.
Hunter takes a step back and gestures to me. “This is my girlfriend, Riley Bishop.”
His dad takes my hand between his and pulls me forward. “Riley. Splendid to meet you. Hunter has told me so much about you.”
That makes me grin. “Has he? All good things, I hope.”
“Only the best,” he says warmly, pulling me in for a hug.
My tummy flutters. I hug him back, then move to stand beside Hunter with a big, stupid grin on my face.
As Hunter predicted, his dad can only speak to us for a moment since he has more guests to greet behind us, but I still can’t stop grinning as Hunter takes my hand and leads me toward the ballroom entrance.
“He likes me! Your dad likes me,” I tell him, beaming.
Hunter shakes his head, amused by my excitement. “I told you he would.”
I’m still so hyped up, I turn to steal one last look at Hunter’s father before we enter the ballroom, but when I do, my attention is snagged by a pair of predatory blue eyes that are not only locked on me, but narrowed in careful consideration.
My heart leaps in my chest. The man staring back can’t be much older than me and Hunter. I didn’t realize how close he was behind us. I thought nothing of what I said to Hunter, but now, as the handsome stranger carefully regards me, then lets his speculative gaze drift to Hunter, I realize…
He may have just heard me refer to Hunter’s dad as… well, Hunter’s dad.
My smile disappears.
The intense look drops off the man’s face, replaced with what should appear to the world as a friendly smile, but as he turns to be greeted by Hunter’s dad, I can’t keep my stomach from rocking with dread.
I should be buzz
ing with excitement as we enter the opulent ballroom. It’s a magnificent space, truly incomparable. The ceilings are painted beautifully as if we’ve just stepped inside the Sistine Chapel. The room is massive and well-decorated, similarly to if there was a wedding. Round tables with immaculate centerpieces are set up around the perimeter of a dance floor. There’s a massive Christmas tree in the corner, and a seated orchestra performing live music.
Everything is so beautiful, but all I can think about is the man in the hall.
“Hunter,” I say, looking over at him anxiously.
He looks down at me, smiling faintly until he sees the look on my face. Sobering quickly, he says, “What’s wrong?”
My lips suddenly feel bone-dry, so I lick them. “I think I might have messed up.”
Hunter frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“You know how people aren’t supposed to… how your exact parentage isn’t necessarily public knowledge?” I ask carefully.
Still frowning, he nods.
My stomach sinks. Anxiously glancing back toward the hall to make sure no one is behind me now, I lean in closer and tell him, “I wasn’t thinking back there, I was so excited to meet your dad… I called him your dad.”
“Oh.” Hunter’s expression clears. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“No, but, Hunter.” I stop walking to look up at him. “There was a guy behind us. I think he heard me.”
He scowls and glances back. “What guy?”
Enough moments have passed that I’m sure the blue-eyed stranger is no longer greeting Hunter’s dad and his cousin, but when I turn around and look toward the entrance, I don’t see him lingering behind us anywhere, either. “I don’t know where he is. I don’t see him now.”
Hunter frowns, pulling me close and doing a cursory sweep of the room. “Well, if you see him, point him out to me, okay?”
I nod, swallowing. Looking up at him with remorseful eyes, I tell him, “I’m so sorry. I should have kept my big mouth shut.”
Hunter shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
He tells me not to worry, but I know he’s just being nice.
Hunter’s father is a powerful man. The knowledge that he has an illegitimate son that the public doesn’t know about… That’s information that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands.