Page 50 of Shattered King

I knew the minute he woke, because the hand on my ass curled deeper, fingers digging in. By this point, I’d worked myself up enough that I didn’t really care about much more than reaching for the orgasm that was already building.

“You wanna come, Lulu?”

Oh yeah, the way he said that, the way his voice sounded rough and gravelly from sleep, was pure sex. Shit, I was sure I had a mini orgasm right then and there.

“Yes.” I shouldn’t be doing this, I should get up and walk away, but I wasn’t going to. Why fight it?

“You in a hurry, baby?”

“Yes.” I thought I might explode and not in a good way if he didn’t give me the release I needed.

“You okay like this?” His voice dipped lower. “Not too sore?”

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

The hand at my ass slid down the back of my yoga pants, inside my panties, cupping my behind as the other slid down the front. He made a rough sound when he found how wet I was.

Jesus, it felt good.

I lifted my face so I could see his, and the way he looked at me was hot and fierce and had my inner muscles squeezing in anticipation.

He watched me, eyes locked on mine as he slid a thick finger through my slit, spreading my juices, working me up. I moved my hips wanting more and he gave it to me, growling softly as he pushed a finger deep inside me. I whimpered, burying my face against his shirt when he started moving, sliding in and out, slow and deep. I tried to thrust my hips against his hand, but he controlled my movements with the hand on my ass. Then he slid in a second finger, stretching me wider, thumb joining the action, and my entire body rolled, undulated against his. I lifted my knee higher, so my legs were spread wider, asking for more.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “I want that stiff little clit under my mouth.”

I wanted that, too. Badly. But all I could do was moan against his shirt.

I was close, so close. The scent of my arousal drifted around us. The wet sound Hunter’s fingers made while he worked me, our harsh pants, were all I could hear.

My breath hitched and I moved my hips against his hand the best I could. “I’m close,” I gasped.

“I know, baby.” His intense gaze stayed on me, the hand on my ass holding me tighter, holding me down as he did another swipe over my throbbing clit. The building pleasure peaked. I moaned helplessly as I came around his thrusting fingers. “That’s it, Lulu, come all over my hand, let me feel it.”

He continued to hold me gently as I came, until I went limp on top of him, body quivering with the aftershocks. He removed his hand from the front of my pants, but the one on my ass stayed, big and warm, the hold unmistakably possessive.

And right then I didn’t care.

I let my heavy eyes drift shut.

I felt him kiss the top of my head, then I let sleep claim me.

* * *

I was lying in bed, cocooned in blankets, light creeping under the curtains, and listening to Hunter’s low voice drifting in from the living room. Smiling to myself when it was followed by Josh’s sweet, excited one. His short answers and out of control giggles were what I’d woken to the last three mornings.

It warmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in too long to remember.

I loved it. Too much.

We had a kind of routine going. A routine that just sort of happened. I didn’t sleep in, not usually, not since I’d been on my own. I didn’t sleep heavily either. Being on edge all the time, afraid, made that impossible. But for the last three mornings, I’d woken to those voices in the kitchen. The reason for my sudden ability to sleep like the dead hadn’t escaped me. It was Hunter.

For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

So now we had this little groove going. Hunter gave Josh breakfast, and after I ate and showered, we’d hang out. He hadn’t gone into the office, but he was on the phone and his laptop a lot. He was also tense. I got the feeling the hunt for Pierce wasn’t going that well.

The second day out of the hospital, Hunter took me to see my mother. I’d lied and told her I’d been in a minor car accident. She’d stared at me for a long time, tears in her eyes, and I knew she didn’t buy it. But she didn’t question me further, either. She also didn’t question why she was still in the hospital and not at home like Pierce had promised, or her husband’s whereabouts or absence. I didn’t know what Pierce had told her, the excuses he made, if he’d even bothered when she called to tell him she’d seen me, but it was almost like he didn’t exist to her anymore.

Did she know more than she ever let on about her husband and what he did? Not what he’d done to me, not that, but about his business practices?