Page 153 of Reverie

Hunter slides a finger into my pussy, pressing hard on my clit as he massages me from the inside and outside.

“And this pussy?” He laughs darkly. “I’ll die in this cunt.” He slides another finger inside me to prove his point.

“But the best thing about her?” One of his hands shifts and he places it over my chest while he continues to work me below. “Her heart, and how freely she’s given it to me. I will always protect it.”

His words are fierce, pointed, and I think I could combust at the slightest additional pressure.

His words, words, words….

“She is my queen,” he says. “She is my everything.” He turns my head and kisses me openmouthed over my shoulder.

I whimper into his mouth, awareness dawning that I’ve been his good girl and haven’t moved my hands from the armrests—even though I’m clutching them for dear life.

“How could you possibly think that a few meaningless moments with you could compare to what I have with her?”

He picks up speed with his hand, working me in the way he always does to get me off quickly. My moans turn into deep sighs, and my legs tense around his hand.

“Not yet, baby,” he whispers against my lips. Then, without taking his gaze off mine or slowing his pace, he says to Jami, “On your knees.”

I hear her sharp intake of air, and if I didn’t have my eyes affixed to Hunter’s, I probably would have jumped up and run into the other room.

But I feel the movement when Jami shifts to her knees, silently coming closer and pausing right before Hunter’s feet.

“Apologize to mywife,” he commands, slowing his pace just a fraction to keep me from the edge of orgasm. I don’t want to look at her, but she’s so close that I can’t ignore her presence.

“I’m sorry,” Jami says in a small voice. Hunter picks up his pace.

“Apologizebetter,” he growls to Jami. He breaks our gazes and tilts my chin to look at the blonde at my feet.

She looks…wrecked, like she’s devastated that she’s losing Hunter.

But she actually never had him to begin with. Because he’s mine.

“I’m so sorry for disrespecting you, Mrs. Brigham,” she says, placing her hands on her chest.

“Was that apology good enough for you, Sunbeam?” Hunter’s voice is close, and he nips at my earlobe.

“Yes,” I moan, not caring about her empty words but caring so very much about what’s happening here between me and Hunter.

“Hunter, please,” I cry.

His smile is sinister, malicious.

I let out a sound of protest when he removes his hand from my pussy, but then seconds later I’m yelling for a completely different reason when he pulls his pants down a fraction and slams me down on his cock.

“Oh, God, Hunter—” I choke. He turns my head back to look at him.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he says, his breath flowing over my lips.

I don’t defy him.

“I love every single part of you, Hunter James Brigham,” I say, mindless. I’m so, so, so fucking close. Despite what my more conservative self would say, I love the fuck out of this.

Ilovethe fact that this audacious bitch is at my feet, begging me for forgiveness. I am ecstatic at the fact that she has to watch Hunter fuck me—claim me—and reaffirm that she’s a non-motherfucking-factor.

“You own me, Winter,” he says.

He slams his lips to mine, and he transmits every single fear, insecurity, and desire into the act.