Wicked Scandal (Misfits #2)

Chapter 13

CATHERINE

A few minutes later and I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in months, maybe years. Then the next thing I know, Wilder is sliding his body down on the couch beside mine until he’s sandwiched between me and the back cushions. I shift slightly, making room for him as he settles in. His arm drapes across my stomach and he pulls my body snug against his.

Warmth spreads through my chest and a ball of nervous excitement forms in my stomach. Everything about this feels so right and I won’t dare question it. With each passing second of us lying in here with our breaths as the only sound, I find myself falling more and more for Wilder.

Before I know it, I’m in too deep and I can’t get out. I turn to face him, our noses brushing as I inhale his exhale.

Wilder puts a hand on my cheek and guides my mouth slowly to his, but he pauses just before our lips touch.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you don’t want me to stop.”

I suck in a breath, no words can escape me. I want this more than I want to breathe. I want him more than I want to do the right thing. I’ve always done what was expected of me. I always obey. But this time, Wilder is making it my choice.

I know if I told him to stop he would. It would hurt us both, but he would. Which is why I lean in, our foreheads touching as I whisper, “Don’t stop.”

Our mouths crush together in an instant, the band of tension that had pulled so tightly between us finally snapping. At first, my lips stay sealed because I have never been kissed like this before, then Wilder drags his tongue across my bottom lip and I part them slightly, granting him entry.

His heavy breaths flow into me and I swallow them down. The next thing I know, his hand is on the back of my head, fingers dragging through my hair as he pulls me closer.

No kiss has ever made me feel dizzy with desire. No person has ever made me this terrified and yet safe at the same time. So much so that my body is literally shaking. My heart skips beats. So many beats. My God, he tastes so damn good.

I never knew how bad I wanted Wilder until this moment. I’ve always found him attractive and I’ve felt this pull toward him since the start of the school year, but anytime I started to think of Wilder as anything but my student, I shut my thoughts down. Except, over this last week, something has blossomed between us. Now, more than ever, I want him. I want him so fucking bad.

Wilder begins to explore my body with his free hand and I yearn to do the same. Moving my fingers down his strong arms that make me feel safe, I find his waist. My hand slides slowly up his shirt, fingers trailing over the rigid cords of his abs. At the same time his hand slips under my shirt on my back and he pulls us closer with a firm palm.

Our lips move together in perfect unison, building in intensity with each passing second. A spark ignites in my gut and I tug him closer, feeling the growing bulge in his shorts pressed against my core as I moan into his mouth. The sound stirs something in him, making him near frantic.

I’m starving for the touch of a man whose hands don’t hurt me, and Wilder delivers like his life depends on it.

Something comes over me—a rush of adrenaline, a ball of white-hot fire in the pit of my stomach. Feeling freer than I’ve ever been, I go for what I want.

And what I want is him.

Sliding my hand down his shorts, I feel his body tremble beneath my touch. As if he wasn’t expecting me to be so forward. Tingles shoot through my body when I find his hard cock waiting for me. My fingers wrap around the shallow end and I glide my hand up and down slowly.

Wilder shifts slightly, giving me room to work. Lustful eyes peer down at me and his nostrils flare. “W-we don’t have to…”

The fact that he’s even saying that speaks volumes to his character. He’s one of the good ones. And just for tonight, he’s all mine.

I lick my lips, hungry for more of him. “I want to.” My words offer reassurance, not only for Wilder, but for myself. And when he gives me that panty-melting smile, I can’t help but take it up a notch, twisting my hand slightly as I stroke him. His eyes drift closed in ecstasy and I get to witness this perfect god of a man—that so many women want—give himself over to me.

I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

I stroke faster, my body aching for his release just as much as it aches for my own.

Wilder’s mouth meets mine again, this time with renewed tenacity. We deepen the kiss, our teeth clanking as I slide my hand up and down his smooth, engorged cock, feeling the veins bulge against his soft skin. He’s bigger than I imagined—much bigger than Troy or any of the guys I’ve been with in the past. He’s got at least a good two inches on Troy and his girth is double in size.

I’ve always heard assholes have smaller dicks and they treat people poorly to boost their own self-esteem. It’s the nice ones that are supposed to be well-endowed. I’ve never touched a guy who isn’t a total jackass, but I am quickly starting to believe in that theory.

Wilder moans subtly just before his hand trails featherlike touches down my side. He keeps going until he’s at the bottom of my shorts, then balls his hand in a fist to rub his knuckles over my center. I push into it, wanting every bit of what he will give me. When he retreats I gasp with need before he begins to unbutton my shorts. The second he has the zipper down, I part my legs instinctively, already feeling the wetness of my want for him between my thighs.

“Mmm, Mrs. J,” he mutters into my mouth as his lips curve into a grin. “You’re so wet, baby.”

The way he calls me Mrs. J makes my insides stir with excitement. I love it when he calls me Cat—I didn’t think I would, but I do—but Mrs. J sounds so sexy rolling off his tongue.

I spread my legs farther, giving him as much room as I can being wedged on this couch. We could move. We should move. But I don’t want to ruin the moment, and I need him right now.

His long fingers stroke me, going back and forth between circling my entrance and my clit. It drives me wild as I continue to give him everything he’s giving me. My mouth waters, wanting to take it further, but knowing there is no room. I want to see his massive cock and lick it until he is panting as hard as I am while he toys with me.

Finally, Wilder gives me what I need, two fingers pressing into me slowly as his tongue dances with mine. It’s intimate and sexy and has me soaking his fingers. I can feel him grin against my lips, clearly approving. But I’m not prepared when Wilder curls his fingers at just the right angle while pressing the pad of his thumb against my clit. Bursts of electricity shoot through me as I arch my back and slowly lift my hips up and down, my body begging for more.

I push into him, desperate to feel him deeper. When he goes as far as he can, nearly knuckle deep, I cry out in pleasure as those fingers twist inside me.

“That feel good, baby?” he whispers as he kisses his way down my neck, sucking on the thin skin above my collarbone.

“Mmmhmm.” I grumble, releasing an airy moan. I have to roll my lips together to prevent myself from saying something embarrassing like, “This is the best it has ever felt,” or worse, “I want more.”

Instead I focus on him, rolling my thumb over the bead of moisture at the tip of his cock before reaching down and grabbing his balls. “Feel good for you?”

“God damn,” he hums. “You have no idea.”

I smirk as I massage him, then wrap my fingers back around his impressive length. More than anything, I want to feel him inside me. I want our bodies to cement together and never come undone.

I can’t even remember the last time Troy put his fingers inside me. For the last few years, it’s always been sex with no warm-up and I’ve always just pinched my eyes shut, praying for it to be fast. And an orgasm for me was out of the question.

But this…I want this to go slow. I want it to last forever.

I close my eyes and my body relaxes—every limb except my left hand. My mind clears and I focus solely on everything I’m feeling. Every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s being touched as his fingers slide in and out of my sopping cunt.

Another moan slips through my lips and when I open my eyes, I see Wilder watching me. Our gazes lock as we come undone together.

He pants, and I pant. My chest rises and falls, and his mirrors it. His mouth falls open and his beautiful eyes that have given me so much strength the past few days sparkle just for me.

I lick my lips and clench my thighs as I come around his fingers, feeling my arousal drip into his palm as I ride the wave. He doesn’t stop moving inside me, prolonging the pleasure even more.

My vision blurs and I gasp and shudder, crying out in ecstasy.

Wilder flinches and holds his breath, not even hesitating as he releases into his shorts. I continue to stroke him until I am sure he has given me every last drop.

We relax into each other, not wanting to break the moment. I don’t want to regret anything with him anymore. Wilder looks at me in wonder as we lie there nearly breathless when all we’ve done is use our hands.

Good God, imagine how much more incredible the sex would be with him.

With a hum of approval, Wilder leans in to place his lips on my forehead, holding them there as he whispers, “We didn’t have to?—”

“But I wanted to,” I tell him as I put my hands on either side of his head, holding him close. I need him to see I don’t regret this—him.

He pulls back slightly to look at me. “You didn’t let me finish.” A smile plays on his lips. “I was going to say, but I’m glad we did.”

We laid on the couch silent for a few minutes before we both decided we needed to clean up. Wilder ran out to his car to grab a pair of gym shorts he had in his backpack, and I just removed my panties and threw them in the bathroom trash can. Fortunately, I didn't get much on my shorts, so I’m still comfortable.

When he returns from changing, something inside me settles. His presence is like a wave of peace, and his touch reminds me that I am still alive.

It’s selfish to want him like this. To throw him into my world of hiding and fear. But he wouldn’t stay away, and now I don’t want him to.

It’s a Friday night and I’m sure there are much better things he can be doing instead of hanging out with his boring, old teacher. Yet, he stays.

We lie back down on the couch, this time with me wedged between him and the cushions, and I put on a movie—The Notebook. He holds me so close, so tight, and I savor every second of being in his arms.

My eyes are on the movie, but I’m not watching it, when I see Wilder raise his hand with his phone in it.

“What are you doing?” I giggle, moving my head away from the camera’s sight.

“I haven’t posted in days and I’ve used up my batched videos. Just a quick one. Don’t worry, you won’t be in it.”

I watch him as he makes a quick video of himself, telling his followers that in one more week, he’ll be free from the confines of school. His energy is contagious and his grin is wide. It’s obvious how much he loves entertaining and creating content.

Once he stops the recording, he adds a soft background sound and replays it for me, obviously seeking my approval.

You can see a few strands of my hair on his chest, but it’s not incriminating. Besides, he looks hot as hell with his disheveled hair, so I give him my blessing and he posts it.

The next twenty minutes are spent talking. Wilder tells me he has another speech to write for his dad so I make a promise to help him with it tomorrow, but in my heart, I don’t even want to think about tomorrow. It’s the last day Troy will be gone, and I’m not ready for him to return. Ever.

Before I know it, my eyes are closing and I’m lulled to sleep by the sound of Wilder’s breaths in my ear.