Hunter's Alpha (gxg) ✓

25. Double Agent

Now, if you know me, you know the things on my bucket list consist of getting kidnapped, fucking someone on a Venice gondola, faking my death—you get the idea.

The slight issue is that if my twelve-year-old self had known Hunter, I would've added friends with benefits to that list.

Well, now I'm eighteen, and I'm correcting my mistakes.

I wake up with a hand trailing between my legs, warmth between my thighs.

Slowly, I lift my head up from where it is tucked against Hunter's smooth chest. Her lips are inches from mine, and the temptation to kiss them is unbearable. Especially with that growing heat in my core.

Her fingers trail lazily closer, deepening into that apex. A soft whimper escapes me. Craving her.

Today is Saturday morning, and I can't think any other place I'd rather be.

Dangerous, my mother's voice chastises. And I know it's dangerous—I know I can't want her. Shouldn't want her.

But I have six days now until I escape and look for the murderer.

I'm going to make every single one of them count.

"Hunter," I whisper, and she makes a soft hum in her throat in reply.

I stop resisting the urge to kiss her, and my mouth against hers is gentle. As featherlight as the first brush of snow. As quiet as the morning sunlight, grazing against a spring meadow.

"I have a proposition," I say against her mouth, and her muddy-brown eyes widen. The colour seems flickering, almost, as though there is something else beneath the colour.

"A proposition?" Amusement laces her voice. Dancing in the air between us.

I bite her lower lip gently, and she lets out a growl. Her fingers trace the outline of me as I talk, growing more bold, teasing that outer layer.

"An idea," I say, swallowing, as she brushes dangerously close to that smoldering heat. Teasing me—the same way I teased her.

"Go on," she breathes arrogantly.

A single finger dips inside of me.

"I don't want a relationship," I say. I try not to restrain the moans that claw up my throat. The sensation of her one long finger, leisurely moving inside of me, is divine.

Her face betrays nothing. Her eyes are hard and dark, unreadable.

"But," I continue. "I do want to be fucked."

"Is that it?" she says, her eyes glittering wickedly. A second finger slips inside of me, and my hips writhe with the fullness of her. A choked sound escapes me.

"I want," I continue breathlessly, "a friend. With benefits."

"Someone to fuck," she whispers, and her fingers reach deeper. My eyes close, my breathing hitched up.

"Yes. That's right."

"Someone who will fuck you whenever you want," she persists, and I nod desperately, her fingers plunging rough within me. My legs begin to tremble.