“Lay on your stomach and don’t move,” he told her in a firm voice.
Hunter pressed her into the soft mattress and she sank like lead into the fluff and smell of him that floated around her. She wanted to reach out to him, but was afraid he’d reject her again. Gazelle’s heart felt as raw as her body, and even after the intense release she worried that it would split in two if he walked away.
She buried her face in the pillow, her mind floating. Feelings of disconnect, the same one she’d started feeling earlier, returned with a vengeance. It was easy to rest there; back exposed to the room, and let herself drift along. His hands smoothed cool salve on her butt that made her sigh in pleasure. He kneaded at her ass and thighs, working the ointment into her skin and sending tingles up her spine. Even with her fatigue, sparks of arousal caught, fanned by pain and Hunter’s tender ministrations.
“Gazelle,” Hunter whispered, reverence coloring his voice. “You don’t know how beautiful you look lying there, so trusting, with her ass bright red from my hand. I’d love seeing you like this.”
His words gave her as much pleasure as his hands. She was too tired to do more than murmur happily.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He spoke softly, but Gazelle heard the command.
Sighing, Gazelle turned her head to look at him. He was gazing at his hands as the worked on her tender flesh. His face etched with lust, giving him a feral, hungry look. She debated not revealing what was on her heart, but the high made her loose. She wanted desperately to connect with this man who’d taken her to new heights.
“I’m thinking about who I am.” She sighed as his fingers worked her low back. “About how I never thought I’d become a person who enjoyed things like this.”
His blue eyes lifted to snag hers. “This isn’t wrong, Gazelle. It’s okay to express and explore the needs you have. It doesn’t make you bad.”
“It’s not that. It’s becoming my mother, of letting my baser needs rule me and turn me into a woman who pursues it at all cost.” She closed her eyes. “Of sacrificing everything for something that’s fleeting.”
The hands at her back disappeared and Gazelle moaned at the absence of his touch. Other than the swish of fabric, she heard no sound and let herself hover in the dazed world she found herself in. When the bed dipped, she opened her eyes to see Hunter lying naked beside her. Emotions flickered across his face before they disappeared behind the mask that he erected.
“You aren’t your mother, Gazelle. This…” He waved his hand around almost helplessly, “just proves that. You’re passionate, loving, giving, and incredibly receptive. Embracing that doesn’t mean you’re sacrificing anything, only finding yourself.” The gentleness of his tone made the truth of his words more real to her.
He placed her hand against his heart, holding it in place with his own. Feeling the steady beat calmed her. She leaned back to look at him and another realization hit her as soon as their eyes locked. Gazelle loved him. Her breath hissed out as she let that truth sink in.
“Are you all right?” Creases appeared between his brows as he stared at her.
Unsure of what to say, Gazelle nodded and snuggled up to him. She relaxed against him, but her mind and heart raced. How had she let her feelings slip down that path so easily? Trusting him, allowing him to take control, had left her open to love. Gazelle blinked back tears, knowing that she’d always loved him. Fear is what held her back from telling him, showing him, before. She knew she could stay with him, like this, for the rest of her life, but he hadn’t offered her that. Having her physical lust satisfied wouldn’t sustain her; only his love could do that. An ache, one that she knew started the moment she’d seen the invitation to this party, one that had always been there, sharpened as she realized that this couldn’t be forever. She suppressed the sob that bubbled up, and buried her face in his chest.
His hand skimmed down her back, obviously sensing her distress and trying to comfort her. “What are you thinking about, Gazelle.” He cupped her bottom possessively before letting his hand move to thigh. “You seem relaxed, but I can feel the tension radiating off of you.”
She couldn’t help smiling. The man had the ability to read her whether she wanted him to or not. She seemed to only be transparent with him. Her smile died as she prayed he wouldn’t sense her feelings for him. It would kill her to know he wouldn’t reciprocate. Instead she attempted to distract him. She trailed her fingers down his back in much the same way he’d done to her moments before. His muscles bunched beneath her touch, his cock growing hard against her leg. She loved that he reacted so easily to her, loved that she wasn’t alone in her need.
When her hand crept lower to run between the cheeks of his firm behind to tickle the crinkled opening, he stopped her with a tight hand around her wrist. “What are you doing?”
“I’m playing.” He didn’t pull her hand away so she started teasing around his hidden rosebud. She let her tongue slide along the plane of his collarbone. “Can’t I play with you, Master?”