Love in Fantasy (Skeleton Key) (12 page)

Sparks fly from where he sucks and nips straight to the ache between her legs. He switches sides, and she begins to rock, sliding her pussy over his cock, moaning at the incredible pleasure. He lets her nipple go with a pop and cradles her face in his hands. “I must be crazy, but in my heart, my soul, I know I love you. You are the only one for me.”

Jenna stills at his words, her heart soaring, and takes a deep breath, trying to control her craving to move. She turns her face and kisses one of his palms. “Me, too,” she whispers. Hunter urges her head forward and takes her mouth in a deep, soul-binding kiss.

“It’s too soon. Fuck, I know this is too fast, but damn, Jenna, I
need
to be inside you.” His emphasis on need is her undoing and she scoots back on his lap, shoving her skirts out of the way to gain access to his—she’s relieved to see pants instead of tights. Wrong era, but she wasn’t sure she would have been able to keep from laughing. Mood killer, anyone? He holds the fabric away while she unbuttons him and takes out his long, thick cock.
Hmmm. Impressive
.

Hunter raises her up, and she aligns his member with her pussy before helping her sink down on him. He groans in bliss as he’s gloved in her tight, wet heat. “Fuck, sweetheart. You feel perfect. Like you were made for me.”

Jenna moans, her heart melting at his declaration. She grabs onto his shoulders for leverage and begins to move up and down, swiveling her hips every once in a while. Her breasts bounce in Hunter’s face and he takes full advantage, sucking hard on her nipples, shooting streaks of pleasure down to her pussy, and she cries out. He thrusts up in time with her, their bodies synched in a steady rhythm until he seems to snap. Gripping her hips roughly, he begins to pick her up and slam her back down, getting more frantic with each plunge of his cock inside her.

“Oh, yes! Fuck! Hold me in, sweetheart,” he demands, his eyes locked with hers and Jenna bears down every time he elevates her, so his cock drags against her walls. “Just like that, Jenna. Fuck, yes!” She begins to tremble from head to toe, her orgasm building in a swift crescendo. “You’re almost there aren’t you, sweetheart?” he grunts.

“Yes! Oh, Hunter! Oh, yes!”

“I can feel you coating my cock in your cream, Jenna. Come,” he instructs her through gritted teeth, then he seems to really lose it and shouts, “Now!”

Jenna throws her head back and screams his name as her orgasm erupts in a deafening roar, the symphony of sensations creating a Heaven on Earth. Hunter thrusts up hard two more times and on the third, he buries himself as fucking deep as he can and roars his release.

After righting themselves and cleaning up, a task that took much longer due to their need to stop frequently to kiss and caress each other, they walk hand in hand to the door. Reality hits Jenna in the face and she gasps in mortification. The walls are not thick here and where the bakery was full of activity when they slipped into the office, she hears nothing now. Did the sounds of them fucking shock them all into silence? Jenna fervently wishes for a nice, dark hole to open up and the ground and swallow her.

Hunter chuckles and she glares at him until he points to her left and her gaze follows the direction of his finger. A clock shows the time as two in the morning. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that her bakery had been hopping well after midnight until this moment. Considering she closes at eight, she shrugs; this is the least weird thing about her night at this point.

Outside the small office, they find the place deserted and closed up for the night. Jenna finds a note from one of the boys, informing her they’d done all the nightly rituals for closing and she could take off and relax. The P.S. at the bottom made her smile. They’d used the batch of new apples to make some cupcakes and left a couple of them on the kitchen counter for her.

Grinning, she grabs Hunter’s hand and leads the way to the kitchen. “You’ve got to try these cupcakes.” She hears a snicker behind her and peers over her shoulder to see his hungry gaze roving all over her body. Her muscles tighten in anticipation with the memories of what happened last time he looked at her like she was his next meal.

“Sweetheart, I’ve already tried your cupcakes, and they are spectacular.”

Jenna laughs, shaking her head. “Terrible, Hunter. Just terrible. I hope this isn’t indicative of your sense of humor and that you’re just tired.” Finding the container of sweet treats, Jenna lifts the lid and hands one to Hunter. The other cupcake has a note saying the apple lady had told them to make her something special with an apple she insisted was the best of the bushel.

She lifts the cupcake but stops to watch Hunter, and he moans in delight. He leans in and kisses her. “Delicious.”

Giggling she asks, “Me or the cupcake?”

Hunter leers at her suggestively. “I think that theory can only be truly tested by putting them together. I’ll have to eat some of these off of you, sweetheart.”

Her whole body tingles and she can’t help the wide smile plastered on her face. Bringing the dessert to her mouth, she takes a bite and the world goes dark.

Hunter bangs on the back door of The Fairest Cupcake. He can’t explain it, but he woke in a cold sweat this morning, worry for Jenna coursing through his veins. He’d spent the night fantasizing about finding the courage to finally take her and make her his. He’d never been a coward in his life, but the world tilted on its axis around Jenna, gripping him in fear because he knew, if she rejected him, he’d more than likely kidnap her and take her somewhere to seduce her until she changed her mind. His dream had seemed unbelievably real and he’d actually come all over himself from merely imagining fucking Jenna.

After a minute he stops pounding and looks at the door handle, wondering if he should try it. Making up his mind, he twists the knob and is equal parts relieved to be getting inside and pissed that Jenna has left herself unprotected.

It’s five in the morning, and he knows she is usually here prepping for the day. It’s likely she’s alone and he doesn’t want to scare her, so he calls her name immediately. There is no answer so he goes further inside until he enters the kitchen. His blood turns to ice at the sight of Jenna sprawled on the floor, eyes closed, and her skin paler than usual. He rushes over and kneels at her side, bending over to clear her tangled hair away from her face.

Her pouty lips are still painted red from her lipstick and before he is able to check himself, he leans down and presses his lips to hers. When she moans, he breathes a sigh of relief and peppers her whole face with kisses.

“Hunter?” she mumbles. Her eyes are still closed and his heart starts beating rapidly. How does she know his name? Blinking lethargically and looking around, her emerald green eyes come to rest on his face, and she smiles softly. “Hey, did we pass out on a sugar and sex high?”

“A what?” he croaks.

Her eyes skim down his body and then they widen with mortification as her skin flushes red. She sits and scrambles backward in a crab crawl. “I didn’t—I mean, just ignore me. Sorry. I thought you were someone else. Forget I said anything. Have you had breakfast? Although, I wouldn’t suggest anything apple,” she rambles nervously.

Apples?
It’s not possible, is it? “Jenna, Jenna, calm down, sweetheart,” he soothes. She looks at him oddly, and he knows she’s got the same questions running through her mind. “Did you dream about me last night?”

Her blush deepens and she looks everywhere but at him. “Um . . . why would—I don’t even know you—”

“—I dreamt about you,” he cuts her off, deciding to not beat around the bush. She looks at him again, still blushing adorably, but noticeably curious. “I dreamt that I finally manned up and came after you. I made you mine, like you’re are meant to be.”

Her mouth forms a little
O
, and he nods to punctuate his statement. Might as well be blunt and to the point; it is what it is. She is his and the sooner she figures it out, the sooner he could make his dream a reality.

“Does that mean you’re mine?” she asks shyly.

“Completely,” he confirms and crawls over to where she’s backed herself against the wall. He pulls her into his arms and takes her spot on the floor.

“Deal,” she says confidently and he can’t stop himself from kissing her, repeatedly, until they break apart to take in great gulps of air.

Staring at the floor, he remembers how he found her and frowns. “Sweetheart, why were you passed out on the floor?”

She thinks for a minute then shrugs. “I have no idea. But, I have no problem with you making a habit of kissing me awake.”

He chuckles and gathers her a little closer. “Every day, for the rest of your life, sweetheart.”

If the shrew fits

W
ilhelm is back in his box this morning, like he has been every morning. And yet, I exhale a sharp breath in relief, afraid that this is all too good to be true. My dreams of Pippa at night are making it harder and harder (no pun intended) to wake up without her. If things keep on schedule, I have six more nights. Six nights until she is all mine. Forever.

I get ready for the day and head to my office, throwing myself into the mounds of paperwork on my desk. My door is mostly left open so I am accessible to my employees without them having to go through a gatekeeper. Although, it seems I’ve been a lot less approachable lately, or so Simon tells me. The little bastard. I should point out that he’s been just as much of a grouch lately, but I don’t need the added grief it would be sure to bring me. On days like today, when I am behind and not in the mood to deal with bullshit, I shut the door and instruct Abbi to keep everyone out. Except Pippa, of course.

The morning is productive and it relieves some of my stress, not to mention that it helps distract me from my growing need for Pippa. I’m in a much better mood when Abbi buzzes me at one in the afternoon and tells me Iris is here to see me. I’m curious as to what she needs from me considering she isn’t my employee. She is a highly sought-after art expert, specializing in rare books. Wilhelm chooses this instant to start putting up a racket, and I realize why, remembering that the twins, Iris and Piper, are the next two sisters down the line. It must be Iris’s special night. I tell Abbi to send her in and greet her with a warm smile when she enters my office, carrying a box of books. “Iris, what can I do for you?”

She smiles, setting the box on my desk, taking out four of them, and placing them in front of me. She perches on the arm of a chair, flicking her straight, honey-brown hair over her shoulder and brushing her bangs off of her forehead. Though her eyes are a green so light, they are almost translucent, she still bears the St. Claire nose, mouth, and shape of the eyes. Not for the first time, I wonder if my and Pippa’s children will carry the dominant features of the royal family. Picturing a sweet baby girl, who looks exactly like her mama, never fails to further harden my determination to marry my Pippa and knock her the fuck up as soon as possible.

“I found these books in an old section of the library at Vianden Castle when I was in Luxemburg last month. I’ve been meaning to drop them by.”

My brow furrows in confusion and Iris laughs. She gestures to the stack and gives me a scheming smile. “Those are first editions of Pippa’s favorite classic novels.”