Page 67 of My Treasured Obsession

Oh. My. God.

Tan skin stretched across thick and defined muscles formed from years of athletic training. That silver barbell nipple piercing was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. It was begging to be licked and sucked by yours truly. My eyes continued tracing the creases of his six-pack, ignoring the urge to map the indentations with my tongue before honing in on his brawny arms. Specifically the left one, tatted with the realistic-looking snake wrapping from his wrist all the way to his broad shoulder. It was so vivid, beautiful, and otherworldly. And then my eyes strayed down to the prominent V of his hip bones, remembering he mentioned having a thigh tat. My heart pounded at the beginning peeks of dark ink disappearing into his low-slung pants. I had to physically hold back from undoing his button and zipper to unveil the rest…and finally have my first look at his cock too, which I had no doubt was just as wonderful as the rest of him.

With his desire-fueled eyes fanned by long lashes, his black hair falling down to his shoulders in thick waves, and hisherculean body kneeling before me, he oozed sheer animal magnetism and appeared larger than life. Like a sex god crafted straight from my romantic tales, he overshadowed everything in our surroundings until all I saw washim.

Hunter was a masterpiece.

Never in my life had I come across a man of this calibre, his physicality only a shard composing his overall magnificence. Though I’d only been acquainted with small parts of it, I knew it was his heart that made him all the more beautiful to me.

“Like what you see?” he murmured after a few seconds of me ogling him.

I sighed and mapped my hands over his chest, relishing the shiver coursing through his frame. “Yes. You’re the most perfect thing to ever exist, Hunter.”

“No.” He grabbed my hands with both of his and brought my knuckles to his lips for a kiss filled with gratitude and longing. “Youare the most perfect thing to ever exist.”

It was a shame I’d lived two whole decades before stumbling across a man who was a combination of genuinely sweet, thoroughly mindful, and filthy hot. Now I had this need to wrap Hunter up in my arms and never let him go…And it sucked because he wasn’t mine to begin with. Still, I pretended he was for tonight and bantered back, “Guess we’ll just have to agree that we’re both perfect and call it a truce, huh?”

Hunter smiled and drew my hand over his cheek like he was famished for my touch, nuzzling my palm lines. “Guess so, doll.”

How was I ever going to protect my heart around him?

When Hunter bit the pad of my thumb in a playful, wolfish way, I was reminded of the faint ache in my core needing to be satiated. Using my free hand, I roved it down his washboard-worthy abs until I palmed his tented groin with intention.

A groan rumbled out of him.

“Take it off, pretty boy,” I urged softly. “And let me see how you fuck yourself.”

With the grace of a feline, Hunter moved fluidly to cover my body with his, the chain around his neck winking in the darkness and grazing against the swells of my breasts. “You first. Show me how you play with your little pussy, Gabby,” he ordered, stealing a quick kiss. “And if you finish with my name on your lips, I’ll give you a reward.”

Fuck, he had no business being this sexy.

“What if I forget to say your name?” I arched a saucy brow, testing him.

“If you don’t follow my rule, you don’t get to see anything.” His hands wandered down to the hemline of my dress. “But you’re a good girl. You’ll do as I say, won’t you, baby?”

Oh, I feared I’d be anything this man asked of me. A good girl or a nasty slut. I was so gone for Hunter that I’d give him anything he desired.

Only for tonight, I reminded myself. “Y-yes.”

“Now take this dress off, Gabby. I want you naked.”

I realized putting on a show was kind of our thing. Whether in private or public. And unbeknownst to Hunter, I had a little bit of an exhibitionist streak.

I licked my lips. “Help me?”

Again, he didn’t need to be told twice. Some part of me wondered if he had a side—along with his dominant one—that fancied being told what to do.

Hunter dragged my minidress over my thighs, my hips, my waist, my chest, until he was able to pull it off in one swoop. He was so gentle with me. As if I were made of glass and a special gift that he had to handle delicately.

Now that I was practically naked except for my thong, Hunter froze. If it weren’t for his faint breathing, I’d think he was a marble statue.

“Fucking hell,” he finally whispered, entranced. His palms drew over the curves of my body like a potter appreciating a fine creation. “Every inch of you is so goddamn beautiful. You’re divine, Gabriela.”

I swooned. I was in good shape, took care of myself, and loved knowing Hunter appreciated my efforts.

“Like what you see?” I returned, taking both his hands and moulding them to my jutting breasts.

“Oh, yeah.” Hunter groaned, feeling the shape and weight of me in his hands. He used his thumbs and pointer fingers to toy with my pebbled nipples. It was my turn to moan. “How does it feel to be one of God’s favourites?”