The Hunter's Angel

Open Grounds

I woke up feeling more rested than I had in a long while.

It took me a moment to realize where I was, as my eyes adjusted to the sliver of sunlight peeking out from the windows of the otherwise black room. 

Reaching behind me, I was surprised to find the space empty, the rustled sheets the only evidence that Hunter had been there.

Lifting the covers, I noticed that I was still bare-chested, wearing only my underwear.  

Heat tickled the back of my neck as I remembered exactly what I had done last night. What we had done. 

Last night. It had been...incredible.

Hunter had worked me like an expert, knowing exactly what I needed and how to make me feel good, and I couldn't stop thinking about the way we moved together. 

He made me feel like the most gorgeous woman with the way he praised me, and his hands...oh his hands were something else entirely. 

I didn't have any previous sexual experiences to compare it to, but there was no doubt that Hunter knew what he was doing. 

The blissful reminder of last night started to fade as I realized the weight of what we had done, how intimate and carnal we had been. 

I wasn't exactly thinking of those implications when we were in the moment, but now that the sun was out and all the heavy truths were coming to light, I began to question what we were doing.

I couldn't help feeling a little guilty, like what we had done was wrong. I mean, I barely even knew what we were. Was it really the smartest decision to have taken that step further with him?

Shaking my head, I forced myself to stop panicking about it.

Hell, I was a 20-year-old woman who finally orgasmed for the first time in her life.

I should feel damn proud about it.

Shoving aside my doubts, I threw back the covers and got out of bed. Looking around the room, I noticed Hunter's button-up shirt was laid out on the bedside chair.

Not wanting to strut out of the bedroom with my body on full display, I slipped on his shirt, clasping the buttons up to cover my chest. 

As soon as I stepped outside of the room, I was welcomed with the sound of clanging pots and pans coming from down below. 

Walking down the stairs, I rounded the corner into the kitchen, mouth forming a small smile at the sight before my eyes. 

Hunter was plating some mouth-watering French toast, complete with raspberry sauce and whipped cream. 

He really was a sight for sore eyes, wearing only a pair of drawstring pants while he cooked. Those damn abs got me every time. 

"Morning, Angel," he drawled in a throaty voice. His lips tipped up knowingly as if he could feel my lustful gaze. 

He glanced up at me and paused. His piercing eyes blazed as they trailed my body, stopping where the hem of his shirt hit my thighs.

Hunter shook his head slowly, gripping the countertop to maintain control.

My eyes dropped to his fingers, and my face flushed as I thought about what they were doing to me last night.

"Layla you are dangerously testing me. I'm this close to taking you on this counter right fucking now."

My mouth gaped, not a single sound coming out of me. My pulse throbbed as I imagined him doing just that, and I lowered my gaze before he could see how badly I wanted it.