Page 81 of The Hunter

Henry’s words caused an inexplicable heat to rush through me. For some reason, Iwantedto be Henry’s good girl.Wantedto please him.

Not out of fear or retribution, like with Victor.

But out of choice.

As Henry sucked on my nipple, a low moan fell from my throat, and I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sensation. A beat later, his teeth grazed me, biting just enough to send a jolt through my nerves.

“You okay?” he asked again, his voice thick with restraint.

I threaded my fingers into his hair, keeping him locked in place. “I’m goddamn fantastic. Don’t you dare stop.”

He chuckled, low and wanton, the sound vibrating against my skin. “Yes, princess.”

He returned his attention to my breast, sucking and biting, treating me to an exquisite combination of pleasure and pain.

In my experience, the two didn’t go together. There was only pain. Only torment. But Henry made pain pleasurable. He made the torture my body felt delicious. And I wanted more.

He moved lower, trailing kisses along a heated path down my sternum, then against my ribs. When he reached my stomach, I tensed out of instinct.

Victor’s cruel words echoed in my head, telling me no one would want me after the way he’d cut up and destroyed my body.I feared now that Henry was seeing all the ugliness up close, he’d change his mind.

He didn’t.

He didn’t even pretend they weren’t there.

Instead, he kissed them.

Every single one.

Slow. Gentle. As if each mark deserved an apology.

“Beautiful,” he whispered against a jagged line above my hip. “Every fucking inch of you is a goddamn masterpiece.”

I blinked hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but they came anyway.

“Shit,” he said, lifting his head, worry creasing his brow. “Did I hurt you? I can stop?—”

“No.” I cupped his face, my thumb brushing his cheek. “Please don’t stop. It’s just…” I drew in a deep breath, collecting my thoughts. “It’s been a long time since anyone called me beautiful. A long time since anyone made mefeelbeautiful.” I averted my gaze. “A long time sinceI’vefelt beautiful.”

He touched my chin, forcing my eyes to his, not allowing me to escape this. Escape him.

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” he said. “Make you feel beautiful. And never let you forget it. Even when this is all over.”

The words twisted something bittersweet and sharp inside me. Because this would end. Whateverthiswas. However perfect it felt, it wasn’t built to last.

But that didn’t matter. All that did was right now. This moment. And I never wanted anything more than I wanted Henry Fontaine.

He moved down my body once more, kissing each scar like they were sacred. When he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties, he arched a brow, silently asking permission to see all of me.

I lifted my hips, allowing him to slide them down my legs and toss them onto the floor.

His gaze dropped between my thighs, hunger tightening the lines of his face. Slowly, he slid his hands up my legs and pushed them wider. Every heartbeat felt like static electricity under my skin, every brush of his hands sending sparks to my core.

He settled between my thighs, and my body grew tight with anticipation, my heart beating a maddening rhythm.

“Relax…” Henry soothed, pressing kisses up the insides of my legs. “I want to make you feel good. Want to taste you. Want to make you come all over my tongue.”

A shiver rolled through me, my breath catching. No one had ever said anything like this to me. Sure, when I first met Victor, he was charming. Said all the right things to make me fall for him. But he never spoke openly of his desires or his need for me.