Eden's heart was beating too loudly.
She'd just agreed to something that no version of herself—past, present, or future—should've ever considered.
But the moment Hunter's lips had touched hers, every rational voice inside her had gone silent. All she could hear now was the drum of her pulse, the breath that wouldn't come steady, and the shameful heat pooling between her thighs.
She had never been kissed like that.
Never been wanted like that—roughly, hungrily, and with zero apology.
And he wasn't done.
Not even close.
Hunter's fingers traced the hem of her dress again, like he was studying how much she was willing to let him do. His voice was low, dark velvet laced with danger.
"You're already learning," he murmured. "You let me in. You didn't pull away. You let me taste you."
"I-I didn't mean to—"
He grabbed her chin, gently but firmly, forcing her to look up at him.
"Stop apologizing for your pleasure, Eden."
Her name on his tongue was a sin.
"Do you want this?" he asked, eyes searching hers.
She nodded.
"Say it."
Her lips trembled. "I want this."
His thumb brushed over her lower lip.
"I want you to teach me," she whispered.
A slow smirk curled across his lips. "Good girl."
That was the moment Eden's knees nearly gave out.
Hunter turned her by the waist and walked her slowly toward the nearby leather couch. He sat down, legs spread wide, and pulled her between them. His hands slid up the backs of her thighs beneath the soft pink dress.
"Lesson one," he said again. "Kissing. We started, but now you learn control."
She swallowed. "Control?"
"I'll kiss you," he said, "but you don't kiss back. Not yet. I want to feel how badly you need it. I want to hear the sound you make when you're aching for more."
Her breath hitched. "That sounds—"
"Cruel?" he interrupted. "Good. Because seduction starts with power."
And then he kissed her again—deep, slow, dominating. His tongue slid into her mouth, his hands gripping her hips. Her lips parted for him eagerly, her body arching closer, but he pulled away just enough to whisper against her skin, "Don't move unless I tell you."
She tried to stay still.
But her thighs trembled, her breath caught in her throat, and her nipples stiffened beneath the silk of her dress.
Hunter noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He moved lower—his mouth brushing her jaw, then her throat, then down to the edge of her collarbone. His tongue traced her skin in a slow, possessive circle. Her head tilted back, giving him access.
"Soft," he muttered. "God, you're soft everywhere."
Then, without warning, he slid one hand beneath her dress, fingers grazing her inner thigh.
She froze.
He didn't stop.
"I told you," he said, voice husky, "I get the first taste."
His fingertips found her panties. They were damp. Her breath hitched.
Hunter didn't push further—yet. He simply rubbed her through the fabric. Slow, firm, teasing strokes that made her thighs clench.
"Look at you," he murmured. "So wet already and I haven't even touched your skin."
She whimpered, face burning.
"Does this turn you on, Eden? Being teased? Being trained?"
She nodded, unable to speak.
"You want me to teach you how to use this body, don't you?"
"Yes," she whispered.
He leaned closer, lips brushing her ear.
"Then you're going to give this body to me."
She gasped.
"I'll teach you everything, sweetheart. How to kiss. How to undress. How to ride a man's mind until he's begging for you. But every lesson starts here—with me."
His fingers pushed the fabric of her panties to the side. She choked on her breath as his fingertips brushed her bare heat—slick, warm, untouched.
"You're shaking," he whispered.
"I've never… no one's ever…"
His smirk turned dark. "I know."
He slid one finger between her folds. She moaned—soft and startled.
"Lesson two," he said, voice like smoke. "How to beg with your body."
He circled her slowly, drawing out every trembling sound. Her hips moved without permission, searching for more friction. But every time she chased it, he pulled back.
He was in control.
And it was driving her insane.
Her hands dug into his shoulders. Her breath came in broken gasps. Her thighs quivered against the side of his leg.
"Please…" she finally whispered.
Hunter froze.
His voice was pure sin when he spoke. "Say it again."
"Please, Hunter… please don't stop…"
That was what he wanted.
He pushed two fingers inside her—slowly, gently. Her eyes flew open, mouth forming a silent scream. She had never felt anything like it. Full. Warm. Stretching her.
He filled her again. Then again. Each thrust measured, deliberate. His thumb circled her clit at the same time, and her body bucked.
"Too much?" he asked.
She couldn't answer.
He leaned in, mouth against her cheek.
"Good."
Her climax built fast—hot and shamefully real. Her hands gripped his shoulders. Her hips jerked. Her moans grew louder.
And just before she tipped over the edge
He stopped.
Pulled out.
Stood up.
Eden fell forward onto the couch, legs still open, panting, desperate.
"What… why…?"
Hunter looked down at her, his chest rising slowly.
"Lesson three," he said coldly. "Control yourself. Or I won't let you finish."
She stared at him—confused, ruined, desperate.
He leaned down, kissed her forehead.
"See you tomorrow night."
And then he left.