But after a few strokes, Hunter pulls out of my ass and aims back at my pussy. With a slow slide, he goes back into my pussy, and then pulls out and re-enters my ass. I’m jolted with surprise because we’ve never done this: alternating between the holes, sometimes fucking my ass, sometimes my pussy, filling me up like never before. I feel so taken. So used. So blissful.
“Yes, you like it don’t you?” he rasps.
I moan into the pillow before reaching back with both hands to pull my buttocks apart for him, giving him better access.
“Yes, Daddy. I’m both Tara and Daisy for you. My holes are two women sharing you simultaneously, savoring that big cock together.”
Hunter growls at the characterization, but I know he understands. I’m both Tara and Daisy at once, taking cock with the hunger of two women. My pussy and ass, used simultaneously, represent the duality of my nature, the new me, blended. Hunter goes crazy as a result. His hands are everywhere. On my hips, my breasts, my throat, my hair. He pulls me up, arching my back, and bites my shoulder just enough to mark me with his dick buried way up my asshole.
“Say it,” he pants, voice animal. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Hunter. Always.”
He comes with a roar, pulsing inside my rectum, and I feel it, every twitch, every hot spurt. It’s so much, I come again, spasming around him, my body wrung out and ruined.
“Ohhh!” I scream. “Oh oh oh!”
But Hunter’s not done because he wants to be sure that both sides of my dual nature are pleasured. He pulls out of my ass with a roar, still coming, and then pushes deep into my pussy, filling me in both holes.
“Fuck!” he shouts. “Shit shit shit!”
It’s too much. I’m getting sprayed in both holes and I absolutely love it. I come again, my pussy squeezing along his fuckshaft, milking him of every drop as he dicks me hard, balls pumping. Finally, we collapse together, bodies sticky and shaking, not speaking for a long time.
When we finally catch our breath, Hunter rolls onto his side, pulling me with him, and kisses the back of my neck.
“That was…” he starts, but can’t finish.
I laugh, still shaking. “I know.”
We lie there, tangled, while the city glows outside the window. The candles are burning low now, the flowers starting to wilt, but in this bed, everything is alive.
I stroke his broad chest, feeling the steady pound of his heart, and for the first time ever, I’m not afraid of what comes next.
I am Tara Monroe.
And tonight, for the first time, I am whole.
There’sa special kind of peace that comes after destruction, and I’m basking in it. The sheets are twisted, damp with sweat and semen, the bed itself half off the frame, pillows strewn likecasualties in a war nobody really lost. Hunter is on his back, breathing slow and heavy, an arm flung over my waist like he’s trying to anchor me to the moment. Outside, the city is glowing blue and gold, the windows pulsing in time with my own heartbeat. I stare at the ceiling, counting the candles still burning on the far side of the room, and for the first time, I don’t feel like a ghost.
I feel real. Wanted. Adored by this man. I feel like I’m at home.
Hunter’s hand wanders up and down my side, tracing lazy circles, sometimes settling at my hip, sometimes drifting over my breast, always returning like a homing beacon. I can feel the words building up in him, the way pressure builds before a storm.
“So,” he says, voice rumpled, “what now?”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “I have no idea.”
He turns on his side, propping his head on his fist, blue eyes searching my face. “We could run away. To Paris, or Alaska, or somewhere nobody would ever think to find us.”
“You’re going to have to take me to Paris now,” I say. “You already ruined every other place for me.”
He grins, wide and wolfish, then sobers. “Seriously, Tara. You can have anything. Everything. You want to go back to school? I’ll pay for it. You want to work at the Daisy Cafe forever? I’ll buy you the damn store.”
I roll onto my side, so we’re face-to-face. “What if all I want is you?”
He closes his eyes, exhaling like he’s letting go of a lifetime of tension. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
I thread my fingers into his hair before leaning in to kiss him, and the heat that flickered between us earlier comes back, softer now, like embers under a blanket. We kiss, slow, more comfort than hunger, and when I break away, I say the thing that scares me most.