Page 106 of My Treasured Obsession

Surprise lit her eyes, morphing them into a warm, tropical blue. “I would love to dance with you.”

For so long, I’d wanted to hide from the world and blend in with the crowd.

But Gabriela made me want to stand out and be seen.

As she led me to the dance floor, I realized this was where I was always meant to be. Every lesson, every obstacle, and every heartbreak were preparing me for this moment—to be next to this strong-willed, big-hearted, amazing girl that I was falling for in every sense of the word.

CHAPTER 26

Gabriela’s Principe

Gabriela

Club Azul vibrated with an energy fencing on recklessness and lust, the atmosphere perfumed with the scent of gyrating bodies and heavy spirits. The mirrored fountain walls gave glimpses of Hunter and me as I ferried him to the dance floor.

I would never get over the stature of this man. Even in my heels, he remained enormously taller than me, making me feel petite and protected. When his big palm coasted over my hip and landed in the curve of my waist, I basked in the possessive grip. He let everyone in our surroundings know that I was his. Anyone who dared to approach me would have to reconsider. My pretty boy had a jealous streak and I looked forward to fanning the flames of that fire.

Especially now that I knew underneath his gentlemanly exterior lay a filthy animal—the kind that liked to pleasure his woman and fill her with cum in the most primal manner.

Reaching the center of the dance floor, I dragged my hands over his black dress shirt, enjoying the expanse of his strong, quilted muscles, and clasped them at the nape of his neck…before teasingly raking the tips of my nails against the skin of his scalp.

Hunter shivered.

He always reacted like argil under the adroitness of my touch.

It made me feel powerful as though I was his maker and he my submissive mortal lover. But we both knew that subservience only stretched so far before he was ready to dominate me likeIwas his creation, his commands curling around my bones like the sweetest of chants.

And I loved this side of us, wanting to explore its depths over the course of the next few weeks as we courted one another.

Hunter wrapped his arm around my back and placed his other hand on my derriere, carting me into his body until my softer curves moulded to his hard planes and there was no space left between us.

Watching each other, we swayed to the provocative beat thrumming through the veins of the club like a living heart, enticing my own to beat in the same frivolous rhythm.

“Are you feeling okay?” I mumbled against his mouth. “After seeing her?”

I bumped into a friend from school when I reached the club and got sidetracked catching up with her near the coat check. Eventually, when I slid inside the main room, Josh had already grabbed Layla after wreaking mayhem, Anna had hightailed it to the booth with the rest of our friends, and a brunette was chatting up Hunter. Jealousy had boiled inside of me. I marched in their direction with the intention of staking my claim. Little did I know she was far from flirting with him. Hearing her throw condescending remarks at Hunter turned me livid. I was proud of him for telling her off, but I couldn’t help inserting myself into the situation in hopes of ending her bullshit.

I fucking hoped his ex-girlfriend had the worst night ever. I’d ruin her dress all over again if given the opportunity to teach the cheating bitch a lesson. Hunter deserved so much better than a girl who had treated him callously.

He never told me the full story of what occurred between them, and I decided that I would ask him about it later tonight.

“I’m fine.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “And I don’t want to talk about her. She’s irrelevant.”

I ran a finger over his stubbled jaw. “And what do you want to talk about?”

“You.” He kissed me, stealing my breath. “And how you are, once again, the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Hunter calling me beautiful in that husky voice would never get old. The compliment plated my insides like gold. “Andyouare the most beautiful man in this world.”

My pretty rich boy. My tenderprincipe. My sweet undoing.

I hoped he realized that there was no comparison.

He was one of a kind.

Hunter Saint Warren was God-tier, in a league of his own. Possessing the kind of beauty and strength that would have enticed women in the past to write waxing poetry and lyrical songs about him. Had I honed my prose, I may be tempted to write verses about his blue eyes, reminiscent of glaciers. His defined jawline with a rough terrain of black stubble. His inky strands, tousled and untamed, falling down to his broad shoulders, like a hero from olden tales. And his small scar at the bridge of his nose, its story still unsung, that only added to his charm.

“You’re flattering me.” Hunter spun me around, keeping us moving to the sensuous music.