I stand up, holding out my hand. “Show me your favorite room,” I say, voice barely above a whisper.
He stands, not letting go of me, and leads me down the hall. The city lights follow us, reflected in every polished surface. The candles burn low, their wax running in slow rivers across the marble.
In the bedroom, I turn to face him.
“This is me, Hunter,” I say. “I’m not Daisy anymore. But I’m not just Tara, either.”
He nods, stepping closer. “You’re both.”
I undo the buttons of my dress, one by one, letting the silk slip off my shoulders. It puddles around my ankles, blue against the white carpet. I’m nude underneath, save for my high heels and a pair of thigh high stockings. My breasts are ivory mounds, the nipples pink and succulent. My pussy’s wet, a glimmer of arousal evident on my thighs.
Hunter just looks at me, reverent, his hands at his sides. “You’re perfect,” he says, like it’s an oath.
I don’t feel perfect. I feel scared, but brave.
And I want him to see every part of me.
He kisses me again, slower this time, hands gentle but urgent. The city watches through the window, silent witness.
We fall together onto the bed, lost in the hush of the world’s approval and disapproval both, and I know, for the first time, exactly who I am.
I am the girl who was loved, lost, and found. I am Daisy and Tara, both and neither.
And in Hunter’s arms, I am finally enough.
Within moments,I’m lying on the bed, sheets cold against my knees, with Hunter looming over me in that deliciously predatory way—shirtless now, his pecs heavy and abs defined.He’s a gorgeous specimen of man, and I want him. Even better, none of it is shame. All of it is hunger.
He waits for me to make the first move.
So I do. I crawl up his body, slow as a cat, and kiss him—open, wet, biting. His hands go to my waist, then higher, thumbs tracing up and under my ribcage until they cup the curve of my breasts. He palms me, gentle and rough, squeezing hard enough to leave prints. The look in his eyes is worshipful, yet also hesitant.
“Are you sure?” he rasps, voice thick.
I straddle his lap, my bare skin to his mass, and press myself into the heat of him. He’s already hard, so hard, and I love knowing I did that just by being me.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I say, running my hands down his arms, mapping every muscle. “I can be both women to you. Simultaneously, if you want.”
He grins, the old wolf back, but there’s a sweetness now, a soft catch at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re going to destroy me,” he whispers.
I grind against him, feeling the velvet roughness of his suit pants against my bare slit. “You like it.”
He grabs my ass, fingers digging in, then lifts and flips me onto my back in one smooth motion. The world spins as my big breasts bounce. I laugh, giddy, and grab at his hair, pulling him down for another kiss.
We’re both desperate, but he slows things down, kissing my jaw, then my neck, then the hollow just above my collarbone.He takes his time, memorizing me. I want to scream for him to hurry up, but also want this to last forever.
He works his way down, mouth on my breast, then tongue, then teeth on my nipple. The jolt goes straight to my core. I arch, moaning, and he groans into my skin.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he says.
“Show me, then.”
He does.
He bites his way down, hands following, until he’s got my knees hooked over his shoulders. He pauses, eyes locked on mine, and licks his lips. Then his tongue is on me, and I lose all sense of time.
“Ohh!” I cry out as he laps my slit, holding me open to enjoy my flavor. “Mmmm!”