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35

FAITH

M y heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.

"I love you," I say again, quieter now, like it’s a secret I’ve been carrying for too long.

Hunter just stares. His eyes are locked on mine, like he’s seeing me for the first time and all over again.

For a second, no words come. The whole world feels like it’s holding its breath. And so am I.

He steps toward me. His hand comes up to the side of my face, fingertips brushing along the edge of my face.

I reach up with trembling fingers and take off his mask, now, too.

His eyes are so blue, so full of fire and vulnerability it nearly drops me to my knees.

We stand there, bare-faced. Exposed.

No more masks. No more pretending.

The silence between us stretches and tightens until it’s nearly unbearable. I’m vibrating with nerves and want and something that feels a hell of a lot like hope.

Please say something. Please say everything.

And then he does.

“I fucking love you too, Faith,” he growls. “So fucking much.”

My lungs collapse. My knees almost buckle. And when his mouth crashes down on mine, it’s not a kiss—it’s a claiming.

I moan into him, all breath and teeth and tongue. His hands grip my waist over my trench coat like he’s anchoring himself to the earth.

“God,” he breathes, breaking just enough to gasp. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I might,” I pant, dragging my fingers up into his hair. “Come with me.”

His eyes flare. “Where are we going?”

I grin. “I booked a private room.” I lower my voice, right next to his ear. “Did you know they come with a hot tub?”

He groans, deep in his chest, and I take his hand, leading him past the curtain-lined hall toward the suite tucked at the end of the corridor.

“How did you know I was going to be here?” He asks.

“What, you think Ty just randomly decided to bring you here tonight?” I tilt my head. “Come on, Hunter. You might be able to conjure up a VIP truck in a field. But I can pull off some things, too. Give me some credit.”

He grins. “So you incepted this. I like it.”

I open the door and pull him inside.

Soft lighting. Plush seating. A tub big enough for six bubbling quietly in the corner.

I turn to him, standing in the center of the room, the trench coat still wrapped tight around me.

“I’m yours,” I say, barely breathing. “I’m totally yours, Thor.”

I bite my lip.

“And Hunter’s too,” I add.

Hunter leans against the wall, that cocky smirk tugging at his lips, blue eyes locked on mine. The low lighting catches the edges of his jaw, the taut muscles in his shoulders, and the way he’s clearly enjoying drawing this out.

He glances toward the bubbling hot tub, then back to me. “Looks like I forgot my swim trunks,” he says, voice rough and lazy. “That a problem?”

I raise one eyebrow, playing along even as my heart pounds. “That’s a huge problem.”

“Oh, really?” he murmurs.

I fold my arms under my chest. “You might need some help…getting comfortable.”

His grin deepens. “In that case…”

He reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head in one smooth motion.

I swear I forget how to breathe.

That body—tan, cut, solid as sin. Those abs I’ve only ever touched in the dark? Now I can see every groove, every muscle, every inch of golden skin stretched over thick bone and raw strength.

He drops the shirt on the floor and kicks off his shoes.

I bite my lip. “Is this the part where you slowly take off your pants while making intense eye contact?”

“Oh, you want a show?” he teases.

I nod, just once, eyes locked on his hands.

He drags the button of his jeans open. The sound of the zipper unspooling feels like thunder. And when he slides them down, revealing black boxer briefs stretched tight across that thick bulge, I lose every coherent thought I’ve ever had.

He steps out of the jeans, cocky as hell, like he doesn’t know what he does to me.

And then his fingers hook the waistband.

He watches me as he lowers them, inch by agonizing inch.

He straightens, fully naked now, and takes one slow step toward me.

My whole body heats.

“So,” he says, voice low and full of promise. “You still planning to help me get comfortable?”

My mouth parts. I nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

I slide my fingers into his and back toward the private hot tub, steam curling up in gentle tendrils, like the room itself is whispering yes . The water bubbles quietly, warm and inviting, and the soft light from the sconces dances across Hunter’s bare chest.

I step onto the first smooth tile step, still wearing my trench coat. He watches me with a slow blink, his gaze heavy and hungry.

“Wait,” he says, voice like velvet dragged across skin. “You said something about helping me get comfortable. But you still have way too much on.”

I smile slowly. “Is that so?”

He nods, and that look in his eyes? It’s reverent. Hungry. A little wrecked. Like he can’t believe I’m standing in front of him right now.

I untie the sash of the trench coat slowly, watching his eyes darken with every tug.

“You said you wanted to see me,” I whisper. “So…look.”

I let the coat fall.

Hunter’s breath leaves him in one sharp exhale.

I’m standing there in the teal set—the one he described to me once in a half-broken whisper, not knowing I remembered every word. Teal lace, delicate and daring, barely holding me in. The straps kiss my shoulders. The panties are cut high, a perfect match. All for him.

His eyes flare like I just handed him the sun.

“You remembered,” he murmurs, voice rough, reverent.

“Course I did,” I say, stepping closer. “I listen, Thor.”

That name makes him swallow hard.

He steps into the water, fully bare, and I’m already throbbing as he pulls me into his lap without a word.

Teal lace and all.

Steam rises. Skin presses. And when I straddle him, slick and soaked and breathless, I whisper in his ear:

“I wore it for you. I’m yours.”

His hands clench on my thighs. His mouth finds my neck.

“And I’m yours, Luna. Every part.”

The hot tub swirls around us, the jets humming low like a secret. I slide into the water beside him, steam rising between our bodies, every inch of my skin tingling from anticipation—and from the memory of the way he looked at me when the coat dropped.

Hunter stretches one arm along the back edge of the tub, then pulls me closer so I’m nestled against his side, skin brushing skin. I can feel his heartbeat. Or maybe it’s mine.

For a while, we just sit. Let the water soothe us. Let the silence speak. Then I break it.

“I know we started this wearing masks…” I trail off, turning slightly to look at him. His eyes are steady, open. Real. “But the funny thing is, I feel like I can be more myself with you than I’ve ever been.”

He reaches up and brushes a soaked strand of hair from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear with a kind of reverence that makes my heart ache.

“That’s all I ever want you to be,” he says softly. “Yourself.”

I lean in and kiss him. It starts tender. Honest. But that electricity—that wild, magnetic pull we’ve always had—sparks fast. His fingers slip around my hip, anchoring me. I moan into his mouth, tasting need and promise and a little bit of danger.

I slide my hand down the hard planes of his chest, down his abs, the water rippling with every inch.

When I find him—thick, hard, already growing for me—I wrap my hand around him slowly.

His breath catches.

“Faith,” he warns, voice wrecked.

“Yeah?” I whisper, lips brushing his.

“Kiss me.”

I stroke him under the water as our lips collide for a few moments. Then I pull back, slow and steady, watching the tension build in his jaw, his chest rising faster. Then, without another word, he stands—water cascading off his body—and I kneel in front of him in the tub, water lapping at my shoulders, and take him in my mouth.

He lets out a growl that echoes through the steam.

I lick, suck, use my hand to guide the rest. I love watching him fall apart, the way he looks down at me with that mix of awe and hunger like he still can’t believe I’m here.

“Fuck, baby,” he hisses. “You’re gonna make me lose it.”

I pull off with a pop, licking him one last time before I say, “Not yet. I want you to taste me.”

His eyes go dark. “I love it when you boss me around like that.”

In one fluid move, he lifts me out of the water and sets me on the lip of the tub, the stone warm beneath me.

I gasp as the cool air hits my wet skin, as he kisses down my stomach with single-minded focus.

He whips off my bottoms and chucks them aside before he spreads my thighs, then dives in.

No hesitation. No mercy.

His mouth is all heat and motion, licking me like I’m the only thing in the world he wants to taste. His tongue moves with ruthless precision, his hands gripping my hips like I might float away.

“Oh my god—Hunter…” I cry out, my back arching.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he doubles down.

He growls against me, and the vibration alone shatters something inside me.

I come fast. Hard. My entire body trembling as waves of pleasure roll through me. I’m gasping, wrecked, clawing at his wet hair, and he just keeps licking, savoring every aftershock.

When I finally go limp, he kisses the inside of my thigh like a vow.

And I think—this is what it means to be devoured.

He stands between my legs, breath ragged, mouth glistening, and eyes dark with pure possession. His hands trail up my thighs like he owns me—and God, maybe he does.

Then he moves, climbing up to sit on the wide ledge of the hot tub. The steam coils around him like a crown. His body is still soaked, muscles flexing as he leans back, cock thick and ready.

I move toward him, water trailing down my skin.

“You sure?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

He grins, wild and reverent. “Get over here.”

He kisses me, then moves his hands deftly to take off my teal top, and throws that aside too.

I straddle him, knees braced on either side. With our eyes locked together, I reach down to guide him. He’s heavy in my hand, hot, pulsing. I sink down slowly, every inch stretching me.

“Fuck,” we both whisper at once.

I pause, buried in him, breath caught somewhere in my chest. My hands plant on his shoulders, and I look into his eyes—truly look.

“I love you, baby,” he says, voice low, raw. “I love Luna. I love Faith. I love all of you.”

“I love you, too, Hunter.”

Something cracks open inside me. My chest squeezes, and I blink fast, too full in every sense.

“Now ride me, baby.”

I do.

Slowly at first, easing into the rhythm, rocking against him, grinding with each roll of my hips. The jets bubble around us, but all I can feel is him—every stroke, every breath, the slick heat between our bodies.

He grips my waist, guiding me, his mouth trailing from my neck to my chest, licking, sucking, worshiping.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he groans. “You feel like heaven. Like you were made for me.”

I moan, circling my hips harder, faster. The slap of water, the slap of skin. His hands move to my ass, squeezing hard as I bounce on him.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “Ride me just like that. God, I could stay inside you forever.”

My head falls back, lost to the feeling, lost to him. I’m soaked from more than just the tub. I’m dripping with need, with love, with everything I never thought I’d get to feel.

And when I come—again—it’s with a scream and a happy sob. I collapse against his chest, panting, trembling.

He doesn’t stop moving, even then. He wraps his arms around me and thrusts up, chasing his own release.

“I’m close,” he groans, voice wild. “You want it, baby? Want to feel me?”

“Yes,” I whimper. “Inside. Fill me up.”

With a growl, he slams into me one last time and holds me there, locked to his body as he spills inside me in hot, pulsing waves.

We cling to each other, breathless, wrecked, and brand new.

It’s everything I never knew I needed.

Now I just have to tell my parents.