Page 23 of Hunting Snow

Lust-filled fog drifts over my mind. But I do latch onto the fact that he knows my name yet I do not know his.

That can come later.

I drag his face up, my fingers tangled in dark hair, silver strands catching the cold light.

"Daddy. Please eat me."

His growl vibrates against my slick folds a second before he drags his tongue through my wetness in one long, devastating stroke. My head drops back against the concrete and the cry that tears from my throat bounces off every hard surface in this stripped-down fortress.

He devours me with the same discipline and patience he brings to everything. Slow, thorough, relentless. His tongue circles my clit, flicks across the swollen nerve, and then he sucks the throbbing flesh into his mouth. My hips buck against his face and he holds me steady with bruising fingers while my thighs shake and my lungs burn.

"Daddy, I can't hold on." My voice splinters.

"You can. You will." He pushes two thick fingers inside me and curls them forward against the spot that makes my vision white out. "Come for me, sweet girl. Let me have all of it."

My orgasm crashes through me with the force of every restless night I spent replaying his touch. I cry out, clenching around his fingers, pulling his hair hard enough to sting, and he works me through every wave with his mouth and hands until I'm boneless and panting against the wall.

He rises, catches me before my knees give out, and lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct. He carries me to the bed and lays me down, stripping his shirt over his head. Scarred, inked, and built for a purpose I haven't fully understood yet, he stands over me with his belt hanging open and desire burning hot in those whiskey eyes.

He rolls on a condom and settles between my thighs, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. My body is still trembling from the aftershocks and the stretch of him pushing inside me draws a gasp that I bury against his shoulder.

"Look at me."

I open my eyes. He's inches from my face. His forearms bracket my head and the weight of his body over mine is warm, solid, and consuming.

"Eyes on me, sweet girl. I want to watch you fall apart."

He drives into me with a slow, deep stroke that fills me completely. My mouth opens, my back arches, and I cling to him as he sets a rhythm that is controlled, punishing, and tender all at once. His hips roll into mine and every thrust hits deep enough to make my toes curl.

"Daddy." The word breaks free on a moan. "Harder. Fuck me so hard that it’s only you I think about until the day I die."

That makes him grin in a way that has my heart thumping out of control.

And then he gives me what I ask for. The bed shifts beneath us and the sound of our bodies colliding fills the concrete room. His mouth finds mine, swallowing my cries, feeding me his ragged breaths while his cock drives into me until I can't separate pleasure from need.

His thumb finds my clit and strokes. Once. Twice. I detonate around him with a scream I couldn't hold back if my life depended on it. He follows with a groan buried against my throat, his body going rigid, pulsing inside me while my walls milk every last tremor from both of us.

He holds me to him, our ragged breaths tangling in silence. His arm is draped over my waist, his forehead pressed to mine, and our breathing slows together in the quiet of the safehouse.

I trace a scar along his collarbone with the tip of my finger. He doesn't flinch.

"I don't even know your name and you’ve had your way with me twice now."

His thumb strokes the curve of my hip. A long pause fills the space between us.

"Thane. Thane Cross."

I repeat it silently, letting the name settle over the man I've only known as a stranger, a ghost, a dark hunger I couldn't shake.

"What do you do for a living, Thane Cross?"

His thumb stops moving. Those dark whiskey eyes hold mine and the silence stretches, thickens, fills with everything he is not saying.

He crawls up my body and stares down at me wordlessly all the while rolling on another condom. My legs wrap around his thick waist and lock in place. He presses his lips to my forehead and glides back inside, his cock fully aroused and hungry.

The pulse between my legs has me desperate to have him inside my pussy so I don't argue his silence.

CHAPTER 8