Title:
Surprise
Author: The Empress
Email:
Empress@thewaysideinn.net
Distribution:
Empress' Private Library and
The Wayside Inn All others ask
first.
Category: A definite PWP that hints at having a plot,
but not really. A Challenge response.
Rating: NC-17
Content:
Precious
little plot and GRAPHIC consensual sex, and lots of foul
language.
Characters:
Hunter Hearst
Helmsley/OFC Female; brief appearance by Evolution - no pairings
Spoilers: RAW 5/17/04 major spoilers for the end of the
Battle Royal
Summary:
I suck at
summaries….Hunter’s pissed off and his live-in girlfriend loves him
anyway…so what else is new?
Author’s Notes:
The ideals and feelings
expressed by Triple H in this story are NOT necessarily those of the
author. Hunter’s responsible for his own snarky comments. This story is
graphic, should not be handled by minors, and DOES involve Triple H. If
any of these things offend you, please skip it.
.
Feedback: Always.
Disclaimer:
Characters
from RAW belong to Vince McMahon and WWE and no copyright infringement
is intended. I'm just borrowing them and will return them all --
eventually. All of the other characters are purely of my own creation.
They belong to me! Remember -- I'm just having fun. I realize that I’m
using the characters without permission. I’m NOT using them for profit.
I swear; no money is being made. Hey, if you don't believe me, check my
bank account…it's sad….really…
Monday Night RAW
San Diego, CA - 05/17/04
Nan slipped out of the seat she’d been occupying at the end of the second row and pushed her way through the crush of bodies by the security barrier. Now she definitely knew what a salmon swimming upstream during mating season felt like. Everybody was headed to the exits, while she was headed towards a huge, sour looking man wearing a WWE Security T-shirt. The crowd was still screaming over Shawn Michaels' unexpected appearance - the one that cost Hunter the number one contender spot - and the noise level in the arena was deafening.
She didn’t recognize the security guy. But that was okay, because he didn’t recognize her either. He said something she couldn’t hear over the din and waived her away. Instead of arguing with him, Nan simply pulled out the little plastic VIP tag she’d been given when she’d picked up her ticket at "Will Call." Thank goodness Dave had the good sense to remember it when she’d called to tell him she’d be coming after all, and not to tell Hunter.
She’d wanted it to be a surprise. In retrospect, that may not have been the best of ideas, but she had no intention of not seeing him now that she was here. Some surprise this was going to turn out to be.
As she waived the plastic badge at him, he nodded at her and jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of a black curtain guarded by two even bigger and sour looking men than he. She started to slide the tag back into her blouse, but his large hand on her wrist stopped her. He tapped the badge and pointed back at the other two security guards. Getting his point, she nodded, left the badge out, and continued on her way.
At the curtain, she flashed the badge again. One of the giants pushed back a corner of the material, and walked through behind her. Letting the heavy cloth fall closed behind them, the overwhelming clamor from the arena immediately cut in half, he turned and flashed a crooked grin at her.
"Who’re you here to see?"
"Hunter," Nan answered softly.
The guard’s eyes widened momentarily before narrowing again. He pointed down the corridor. "Don’t envy you that one. Straight down this hall, right at the catering table and second red door on your left. But you’ll probably hear the yelling before you get even half-way there."
Without sparing her a second glance, he walked back through the curtain leaving her alone in the hallway. Following the man’s instructions, Nan headed down the corridor. It was nearly deserted, most of the people milling about were the technical crew, she supposed. All of those people who never got seen on television, yet who were responsible for making it look so flawless.
At least, she thought, there weren’t any cameras back here. That was the last thing Hunter needed right now. The guard was right, she smiled ruefully, as she made the right turn. She could hear doors slamming, glass breaking, and Ric’s voice yelling over all of the noise. The corridor dog-legged back to the right, and once around the curve, she could see Randy and Dave leaning against the wall outside of a red door that shuddered every few moments when something heavy was thrown against it.
"Hey guys."
Dave looked up and nodded gravely at her. "Nan. Glad to see you got the pass."
Randy stared at him, surprised. "You knew she was coming and you didn’t tell him?"
"Yeah. Surprise," he said with a weak smile.
"You know, now may not be the best time," Randy began, flashing a charming grin at her.
Nan shook her head. "Forget it, Randy. I didn’t deal with a cross country flight to wait him out in a hotel room that he may or may not come back to tonight."
Randy nodded. "Good point."
"I don’t blame you, either. But don’t be surprised if he’s not exactly thrilled to see you." Dave warned.
"I’m not expecting him to be." Nan answered.
The red door shuddered again as something else struck it.
"Humph." Randy snorted. "Good thing."
Unexpectedly, the door opened and Ric Flair came out, slamming it behind him. His face was flushed and sweaty, veins bulging out on the sides of his forehead. The front of his shirt was terribly crumpled like someone had grabbed him and twisted their fists into it. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him that angry. His beady eyes went immediately to her, narrowing, his face reddening even more with renewed wrath.
"What the fuck are you doing here?!"
"Good to see you too, Ric," Nan commented wryly.
"You’re the last person he needs right now!"
"That's for him to decide," she countered.
"The hell it is," Flair bellowed at her.
Nan sighed, growing irritated at him. "Ric, believe it or not, there are some things you just can't do for him. And trust me, he's not going to mind that I'm here."
"Naitch, he asked her to come," Dave interjected.
"You stay out of this and shut the hell up!" Ric eyes narrowed at her. "Damnit, woman! I told you before that you're not welcome here! I can take care of him just fine! Now get out!"
Now she was pissed. Nan planted a fist on her hip and flipped back a waist-length coppery strand of hair. Her chocolate brown eyes narrowed, sparking dangerously, one eyebrow raised slightly. "Well, unless you’re planning on laying down and spreading your legs for him, you’re kind of extraneous at this point, don’t you think?"
Ric stalked up to her and grabbed her by the arm, squeezing it tightly. "Now you listen to me, you bitch…"
"Hey, Ric. Easy!" Randy protested.
"Shut up!" Ric snarled back.
Nan leaned in closer, almost nose to nose and hissed, "Might wanna listen to Randy, old man. You wouldn’t want Hunter to see any bruises from your loving treatment of me, would you? Wonder what would happen to that free ride you’ve been enjoying lately? Hmmm?"
Ric glared at her, and if looks could kill, she’d have been worm food by now. "One of these days, Nan, you’re gonna go too far, and my hand….won’t be stayed."
He shoved her arm away from him, and stepped back a pace, waving a hand at the door. "It’s your funeral. Come on, guys." Not waiting to see if they were following him, Ric turned and stomped down the hall towards the garage.
Randy nodded his head at her, as he dutifully turned and followed his mentor down the hall. "Later, Nan."
Dave pushed his massive frame away from the wall, and placed a huge, but surprisingly gentle hand on Nan’s shoulder, towering over the smaller woman. "You’ve got my cell number, right?"
"Go on, you big monster," she smiled up at the giant man. "He won’t send me packing. And if he does, I’ll just catch a cab and grab the next red-eye home."
"Nan," he began. But she cut him off.
"Dave, go on. It’ll be okay. I’ll be fine. Really," she cocked her head at him, smiling wickedly. "Isn’t someone waiting on you? Don’t get her pissed at me, okay?"
One side of his mouth twisted up in a smile. "Yeah, okay. But call if you need to."
"I will. Now get out of here."
He nodded, turned, and walked out in the same direction that Flair and Randy had taken.
Nan stared at the closed door, her heart breaking for what Hunter had just gone through, knowing how disappointed and angry he must be. But she squashed that down. She knew in a typical male fashion that he’d not accept her solace or comfort, mistaking them for pity or patronization. Squaring her shoulders, she twisted the handle, eased the door open, and slid inside the dressing room, letting the door close softly behind her.
He stood in the middle of the wreckage he’d created, breathing heavily. His hair was in shambles, and he was still in his wrestling gear, ripping furiously at the white stabilizing tape on his hands and wrists with his teeth, actually snarling. His skin was flushed with his rage. He practically dripped with sweat. And to her, he still looked glorious.
But the room, now, that was another matter all together. The room was torn to shreds. Plants turned over. Furniture smashed. Holes punched in the walls. Lights dangling precariously from over extended wires. Clothing scattered everywhere. Pictures ripped down. Mirrors broken.
Good thing he wasn’t superstitious, she couldn’t help but thinking. The sound of the door closing was quiet, but it had the same effect on him like the crack of a gunshot.
"Goddamnit! I said I wanted to be left the fuck alone! Don’t you fucking get that?!" He whirled around ready to attack whomever had penetrated his lair, and stopped short, surprise lighting up his face, almost making him smile. Until, of course, he remembered why he was so pissed off in the first place.
He pressed his lips tightly together, and lowered his gaze to the tape still clinging to his wrists. Jerking it off in sharp, angry motions, he bit out, "I thought you said you weren’t coming."
"Changed my mind. I caught a last minute flight." She shrugged, sliding her purse off her shoulder. She tossed it to the floor a few feet away. Clasping her hands behind her back, she leaned up against the door, and locked it. "Surprise."
"Humph," Hunter snorted, nodding slightly, his sarcastic smirk firmly in place, ripping again at the white tape. "Surprise is right. What an appropriate word."
Finally, he stripped the last of the tape away from his wrists and fingers, balled it up into a big sticky wad, and hurled it with a startling vehemence against the far wall. The tape-wad stuck to the wall solidly, looking too much like a spitball for Nan not to see the humor in it. She would have laughed had the current circumstances not been so dire.
Deciding that sometimes silence was definitely the better part of survival, she decided to keep quiet and just let him vent -- that is if there were anything left to vent. She stood silently, not moving, but her eyes hungrily drank in every movement. God, but she’d missed him.
He began to pace back and forth, cracking his knuckles and rubbing his hands together. Not for the first time she was struck by the image of him as a prowling lion when he paced like that. Wild. All raw power and energy. Those amazing eyes taking in every single detail of his territory. His nostrils flaring, scenting the air around him. He punched a fist into his hand, causing his massive pectoral muscles to flex in a way that made her salivate. Rubbing his palm over his knuckles, his biceps bowed up, and she nearly came undone. She fought a lustful sigh. He was an exquisite specimen.
Pausing in the middle of the room, Hunter ran a big hand through his rapidly drying hair, puffing out his cheeks as he expelled an extremely frustrated sounding breath. Staring down at the floor for a moment, he propped both hands on his hips as he unconsciously shifted his weight to his right leg.
She wondered briefly if his left quad was bothering him. It looked like he’d been favoring it a bit during the match. Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later when he rubbed at it absently, his eyes still trained on the rust colored carpet, his fingers splayed over the thick slab of his thigh muscle. Then he raised the same hand and rubbed at his neck wincing slightly as his fingertips grazed the spot where he’d cracked his head against Batista.
She couldn’t stand to see him in pain, and had to know. "Hunter, are you okay?"
He turned his head sharply, wincing again, his upper lip curled back in a snarl, his whisky-brown eyes flashing fire. "Do I fucking look okay to you?!"
Nan’s eyebrow raised of its own volition, her lips threatening to tilt up into a smile. Not trusting her voice to keep the humor dampened down, she just shook her head ‘no.’ Actually, she thought to herself, he looked delicious. But he also looked tired, angry, frustrated and very sore. And something else she couldn’t quite pinpoint.
Pulling his stare away from her, he resumed his pacing. After a moment, he lifted his head and began to talk, but he kept his gaze averted, either trained on the walls, or on the floor. Anywhere but at her. "You’ve been here the whole time?"
"No," she explained. "Not for the whole show. I came in just before Eugene went out to face Coach."
He nodded. "But you saw the whole battle royal."
"Yes."
"You saw H-B-Kiss My Ass come out of the crowd, then."
She emitted a shaky breath knowing what was coming. "I did."
"Why didn’t you warn me or something? Randy or Dave? Or anyone?"
"I couldn’t," she explained patiently. "He was on the other side of the arena from me. I didn’t see him until it was too late."
Hunter looked right at her then, his eyes narrowed. "Did you know he was going to do that? Did he tell you?"
"Hunter, you know I’ve not talked to Shawn in weeks."
"That’s not an answer."
Then she recognized that other emotion she hadn’t been able to identify. Betrayal. He’d been betrayed yet again. Or at least, he felt that he had. And she’d be damned if she’d let him get away with thinking she’d ever betray his trust.
She took a deep breath. "No, I didn’t know. No, he didn’t tell me. But did I suspect he might do something like this? Yes. I did."
He stared at her hard for a moment before whispering, "Jesus Christ, woman. Whose side are you on, anyway?"
"Yours," she answered immediately.
"Why didn’t you say something?"
"I did. Last week," she reminded him, nothing accusatory in her voice - just a flat monotone. "When you ran in on his match with Benoit. I told you when you called me that he was going to retaliate. And probably this week. But you didn’t want to hear me."
"So I’m the asshole here, is that what you’re saying? It’s somehow all my fault, right? As usual?"
"Hunter," she began.
He acted like he didn’t even hear her this time as he began to pace once more. "What are you still doing here? Everyone else has run out on me. Chyna. Steph. The Kliq. D-X. Evolution. Nash. Shawn," he whispered the last quietly.
But the anger rushed back to the front. "So why not you too?! What the hell do you want from me, Nan? Because, goddamn if everybody doesn’t want fucking something from The Game!" He threw up a hand in disgust.
She fought a sad smile. Her chest tightened with emotion. He’d looked so lost for a moment before she saw that wall of anger go back up.
"Hunter."
He stopped pacing again, but didn’t look at her. "What."
"Do you want me to leave?" She swallowed hard, dreading the answer.
He stared at her, his whiskey gaze pinning her in place. "I don’t want you to stay out of pity."
"Do you want me to leave," she repeated.
"And I don’t want you to stay if you just want something from me!" he yelled at her.
"But I do."
He leaned back, obviously bracing himself, expecting this moment to come someday, judging by the look on his face. "I fucking thought so. What, Nan? What is it that you want from me?"
She pushed herself away from the door and crossed the room to stand in front of him, craning her neck to look up into his eyes. "You."
He didn’t say anything for a moment but then smiled an ugly smile, and she saw his eyes go cold and hard. Cynical laughter exploded from his throat. "Well, damn, baby! Why didn’t you say so in the first place! If that’s all you wanted, I can definitely give you that!"
He reached for the waistband of his wrestling briefs, unmistakably intending to pull them down. She placed her hands on his wrists lightly. She exerted no pressure, but stopped his motions just the same.
"I don’t give a damn about Triple H," she explained, her velvet brown eyes never leaving his. "I don’t care about The Cerebral Assassin. And I damn sure couldn’t give a rat’s ass about The Game."
He looked down at her warily. "But that’s what you said you wanted."
"No," she shook her head, tilting it down to lay her forehead against his chest.. "I said I wanted you. You. Hunter Hearst Helmsly. That’s who I want. That’s who I care about."
When he didn’t say anything, she lifted her head to look into his eyes again. "I’m on your side, Hunter. I always have been."
He stared down at her, his eyes searching her face. "Baby, I didn’t mean that."
"I know."
He opened and closed his mouth twice, then groaned and wrapped her tightly in his big arms, almost swallowing her up in him. Her head tucked nicely about three inches from the bottom of his chin. He curled himself around her, as if to protect her from anything or anyone - God help them - should they stumble into the room. He was so big in comparison to her that he almost covered her completely. But even angry, he always handled her like she was made out of spun glass.
Well, almost always, she thought wickedly. She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers digging in and rubbing at the knots of tension under his skin.
"I’ve missed you," he groaned into her hair.
"Really," she teased against his shoulder, not even trying to keep the humor out of her voice anymore. She pulled back just far enough to smirk up at him. "Never would have guessed."
"Brat. I can’t believe you’re really here," he laughed, the tension melting from his face, that gorgeous smile she loved so much finally making an appearance. He kissed her forehead gently, his beard scraping her skin in a way that left her fighting a severe case of the shivers. The smile faded slightly. "When do you have to go back?"
She shrugged a shoulder. "Whenever. I cleared my schedule. Can I look at your head now?"
He leered at her. "Which one?"
"Shut up," she slapped at him, pushing him backward to sit on the large black couch, that amazingly had withstood his tantrum without a scratch.
He plopped down tiredly, pulling off his elbow pads, and chunking them into the general direction of where his gear bag lay. He bent over to unlace, and remove his boots and socks, while she pushed up that mane of blond hair. Squinting, she delicately probed at the goose egg that had to be making his head pound. She stopped when he winced.
"Doesn’t that hurt?"
"Uh, yeah," he drawled sarcastically, tossing his boots and socks in the same direction his elbow pads went. He shifted his attention to his right kneepad.
"Did you let Chris look at it," she asked, referring to their trainer.
"Yes, and I’m fine," he assured her, sitting up and grasping her fingers in his, pressing them to his lips briefly. "Stop fussing, baby."
She reached down and slid his kneepad off that left leg, and unwrapped the white gauze he wore beneath it. "You love it when I fuss."
He chuckled. "Yeah, I know."
Once the leg was exposed, she pressed against the muscle gently, and was immediately rewarded with a hiss of pain from Hunter. "Ah-ha! I thought so!"
He gritted his teeth. "You don’t have to sound so damn happy about it."
"I’m sorry, sweetie," she cooed at him, batting her lashes outlandishly, continuing her gentle massage on the sore quad.
He laughed at her. "It’s just strained. It’ll be okay."
"Want me to kiss it and make it better," she teased.
His eyes suddenly darkened, the smile vanishing completely, to be replaced with a look of hunger she’d seen before. "Yeah."
He put one hand to her face and cupped her cheek. His face was only inches from hers, his whisky-brown eyes so compelling that she couldn’t look away. His thumb caressed the line of her jaw and then he slipped it beneath her chin and exerted a light pressure, tilting her face up to his.
His features became a blur as his face moved closer, and then his lips closed over hers. His mouth was gentle but firm and insistent, warm and mobile as he explored her. His tongue traced the shape of her upper lip, then flicked along the closed line of her mouth before firmly delving between her lips, forcing them to part for him. His hot tongue plunged inside, teasing at first, then growing bolder. His hands went into her hair holding her tightly as he deepened the kiss. She rubbed her tongue along his.
When her head fell back, he cradled it in his large hand, keeping his mouth angled over hers while he plumbed the depths of her mouth. His free hand smoothed up her body from her hip to her shoulder, then firmly back down again to press her against him. She could feel him growing aroused through the thin fabric between them and her body relaxed into his embrace.
She clutched at his muscled arm, as warm pulses of fevered arousal swept through her. She slowly stroked her palm up over his shoulder, feathering delicate fingers up the back of his neck, entangling in the thick blond strands laying against his neck.
He shuddered. Little sexy whimpers rose up out of her throat, fanning the flames of desire that rapidly began consuming them both. What began as gentle love-play quickly escalated into raging passion.
Groaning, he pushed her back until they lay on the couch in a writhing heap. Their hands ran over each other’s bodies, rubbing against each other in the most pleasurable of ways, while their mouths were fused into one by their entangled tongues. Hunter stopped the kiss only to move on to her cheeks and earlobes. Licking and suckling his way down the smooth column of her throat, he bit down gently, sucking the sweet flesh between his teeth. She wrapped her arms around him and gasped, shifting her hips to cradle his arousal, then bumping up against him.
Nan gasped, delighted, when she felt his hands slide down her arms, and over her hips, moving up underneath her short skirt. He pushed it upward and began stroking his fingers across her tight-covered thighs, making the muscles there tremble violently.
He pulled his hands away and started undoing the buttons on the front of her blouse. He kissed the swell of her breasts above the black lace cups of her bra as he exposed them, the stiffness of his whiskers scratching deliciously against her skin, sending her pulse rate through the roof.
His nimble fingers had her out of the blouse and skirt in a haze of delight, flinging them to unknown corners of the room. He covered her body with his and began exploring her with his mouth and hands, beginning at her neck and shoulder. She didn't even notice that he had removed her bra until she felt his tongue running roughly along one nipple. She moaned loudly and wound her fingers into his hair, holding his head tightly. He began to nibble and suck on the rosy bud, wetting it thoroughly before pulling back to blow gently on it, causing her to arch up off the cushions. He lowered his mouth to capture the glistening peak again, suckling hard and kneading her breast, while his other hand stroked the skin at her side, making it jump and quiver under his fingers. Then he switched his mouth to the other nipple and Nan began to wonder if she could actually climax by nothing more than that.
He slid one hand around to caress her bare back when she whispered urgently. "Hunter, please!"
But he merely chuckled latching even harder onto the nipple in his mouth, the vibrations of his laughter sending shock waves through her skin, making her tingle and buzz, her body tense with the building fire between her legs. He opened his mouth wider to pull more of her breast inside, his tongue swirling around in wide strokes, driving her insane. The flames of desire burning hotly, spreading up from her loins and into the pit of her stomach, she bucked her hips against him moaning under his ministrations.
He looked up at her. "Impatient, baby?"
"Don’t tease." she said breathlessly.
He reached down to pull off her boots, dropping them unconcernedly on the floor. His big hands grasped the waistband of her tights, and the scrap of lace she called underwear, and slid them both down her legs easily, so that she was lying naked beneath him. She spread her legs in clear invitation.
Not wanting to torture her any longer, he lunged down and licked along her wet cleft to center in on the aching bud of flesh hidden deeply in the slick folds. He spread her for him and entered her with his tongue, eliciting a scream of pleasure. He pulled his tongue out and shot back in in a fast rhythm, once in a while flicking his tongue over her sensitive clitoris.
She started to buck so wildly that he had to hold her hips tightly to keep her in place for him. Nan felt as if she were being consumed alive, both from the fire within her and by Hunter’s lips and tongue. All feeling drained down her body to pool in the nubbin of flesh he was tormenting so deliciously. Then he began to concentrate his efforts, licking around it in circles before suckling on it. That was just too much for her aroused body. Her hips shot upwards and she let out a shattering scream as she felt the waves of passion crash over her violently, her body shaking and trembling in the aftermath.
He moved to her side and held her as she came down, gently kissing her neck, licking hot trails up and down the side.
"God, Hunter, that was..."
"Just the beginning."
He kissed her slowly this time, stoking the fires of pleasure once again, his tongue probing deeply, almost as if he were drinking of her very essence, her life-force. Nan realized she could taste the evidence of her own passion, but it only fanned the flames burning hotly between them. Without warning, he entered her tight channel with one thick finger. He started moving in and out of her and curled his finger to stroke her upper wall.
Her eyes shot open. "Hunter!"
"Like that?" He pulled back to watch her face, his own heavy with desire.
"Oh, God yes…."
She looked at him, her face flushed, realizing he was still wearing his wrestling briefs. He gently eased his finger out of her and she whimpered. "I want to feel your skin against mine."
"You don’t have to ask me twice."
He smiled at her then got off the couch to strip, with a heated glance at her. Hearing a soft gasp, he looked up and found himself aflame at the animalistic look of lust on Nan’s face. He arched an eyebrow at her, his eyes making sinful promises and took a moment to imprint the look of pure raw heat on her face as she stared at him. From her vantage-point, Nan had an excellent view magnificent shoulders, heavily muscled arms and pectorals, and a mouthwatering set of washboard abs.
With a deliberate slowness, Hunter hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, and slid them down slowly, gradually revealing thick, dark blond curls. Nan thought she was going to die.
"You’re evil."
"And you love it." His voice was thick and husky and did nasty things to her libido.
He pushed his briefs down his muscular thighs, and kicked them away, then stood up arrogantly for her perusal Her eyes widened a little and she gulped. He was magnificent. The evidence of his own arousal rose proudly up and away from his body, a thick nest of dark blond curls at his impressive base, a bead of moisture already gathering at its proud tip, the heaviness of the sac beneath a testimony to his desire for her. Nan reached out and encircled his hard cock. She licked her lips again. Hunter watched her, nearly shouting with pleasure at her touch and the shaft twitched at the thoughts flying through his head.
She looked up at him and smiled. Then she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock before taking it in her mouth and sucking hungrily. Hunter closed his eyes at the sensation, it requiring all of his will power not to fall on her and devour her like some wild beast. He moaned, burying one hand in her hair again, just barely touching her head. Her lips slid up and down the shaft, one hand encircling the base in a tight grip, the other reaching back to tease his sac. Finally, he could take no more, and eased her up, so that his cock slid from her lips, now swollen from his kisses.
She lay back down on the couch and once
again spread her legs in invitation. He knelt between her thighs and ran
his shaft along her wet folds before placing the tip at her entrance.
He looked down at her, wanting to see the look in her eyes the moment he
entered her. He thrust forward until he was fully sheathed inside her
hot depths.
For a moment, he didn't move, but simply stared down at her, his burning whisky orbs glazed with passion. Nan held out her arms to him, her hands opening in closing in entreaty. With a groan, Hunter lowered his frame, gathering her close to his chest, as he began the age old rhythm that would take them both to the stars and beyond, sliding in and out of her scorching heat, with a gentleness that left her breathless.
She pulled him closer, her hands clenched on the slabs of iron muscle in his buttocks. She threw one leg over the back of the couch, providing him a deeper angle, wrapping the other around his hips. She clenched her fingers, urging him on, and he sped up his thrusting. She moaned her approval. He shifted his hips to the left so that he hit her clitoris on every downward stroke, craving her screams. He didn’t have to wait long for them, either.
"Oh God…Hunter…Hunter!"
He began to thrust even faster, harder and she moaned incoherently, writhing beneath him. She suddenly stopped and began to convulse around him shouting out his name. Hunter pulled her up into a sitting position, her back arching to a bowstring tightness, as he tensed, locking his muscles around her. He latched his mouth onto the side of her neck, burying his face in the red curtain of her hair. The sharp prick of her nails in his skin made him thrust harder and she felt her muscles clench again as the wave of passion broke over them both.
Inside her, strong muscular contractions squeezed his bursting flesh, and as she shuddered and heaved in his arms, Hunter felt himself gathering into one giant sensation all centered on the hot flesh snugly ensconced within her body. His hips thrust, withdrew and thrust again, slamming against her, and she screamed with each contact of flesh against flesh. His body drew taut, sensation dancing down his back, starting deep within him and pushing his seed up and out, arching him against her again and again, bucking wildly as he emptied himself into her receptive body.
Finally there was nothing left to give, nothing left to feel but satiated pleasure and drowsy exhaustion. His legs trembled; her ankles slipped from their clasp behind his back and her legs slid down to rest her heels on the backs of his calves. Still buried inside of her, he laid her gently back down on the couch, his fingers caressing her face, as he kissed the corners of her eyes, the tip of her nose, then back down to claim her lips once again. He collapsed on top of her and she held him close to her, enjoying the contact of their sweat-covered bodies.
After a moment the chill in the room penetrated the haze of their lovemaking. Hunter shifted, sliding out of her, leaving Nan with a sweet sadness that nearly brought tears to her eyes. Breathing heavily, he rolled over on his back, pulling her with him, cradling her on his chest. For a moment, he just played with her hair, running it through his fingers.
"Baby, we need to get up."
"Mmm-hmm," she agreed.
"Gotta get to the hotel."
"Mmm-hmm."
"Stay with me this week?"
"Definitely," she yawned.
Hunter smiled, closing his eyes, holding her just a little bit tighter. Thoughts of Shawn Michaels and revenge could wait.
<End>
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