Chapter 17 #3
Could I stick my tongue down his throat and ride him right here in his apartment, under the mountain moon, next to our bearded
dragon? Is there a reality where that’s a good idea and no one gets hurt?
“Christ Almighty, Stretch,” Wolf growls low and feral, his minty breath so hot on my lips I want to drag my tongue over his
mouth to taste it. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll have ya pinned up against this mirror before either of us can
stop pretending we’re going to talk ourselves out of this.”
And it’s his wicked Irish-lilted words that tip me over the edge.
“Fuck it,” I pant, grabbing him by the neck and hauling him down to my lips.
Wolf
I grunt my shock into Everly’s mouth as her lips crash into mine, hot and wild, like she’s been waiting all day to finish
what we started earlier. There’s nothing tentative about her movements. No testing, no second-guessing. Just teeth and heat
and the kind of kiss that has my cock instantly thickening in my sweats.
Fuck, it’s a strange feeling to go from dreaming about someone to seeing them in real life. My mind is still struggling with
the notion that this is actually happening because when I opened the door and saw her there in her baggy Trinity hoodie, thin
cotton shorts, battered Birks, and wide, haunting blue eyes, I was certain I was dreaming. I thought my fantasy of fucking
her brains out tonight was happening in my REM cycle, and I was about ready to grab her and kiss the ever-loving shite out
of her for the third time.
But I’m not dreaming. This is reality. And the reality is, it took every ounce of my strength not to kiss her when she was
sitting on my bathroom counter, looking sad.
She’s a mess tonight. She’s an overwhelmed, stressed-out, exhausted mess. She blew into my apartment like a hurricane, complete
with branches in her hair and cuts on her skin, which did not sit well with me. The way I want to take care of her and fuck
her until she feels better is concerning. I want to put her in my shower and scrub every inch of her clean, checking for other
injuries while kissing every inch of her flesh.
I should probably be arrested for these indecent thoughts. But the tightness of her legs around my waist makes me think she’d welcome my barbaric thinking.
Her tongue thrusts deep into my mouth, and I growl in response. She is way too fucking much. And yet . . . I can’t get enough of her.
Sharing a small part of my past with her unlocked something in me. I started to see her as a person, not just Everly Fletcher—the
girl I secretly followed home after her matchmaking events for four years because I was concerned for her safety.
For years, I told myself I couldn’t have her like this. I couldn’t be with her like this. I was too fucked-up, too dark, too
dangerous. And I was well on my way to convincing myself of that tonight. It was true, I didn’t see her text, but even if
I had, I’m not sure I would have been ready to see her. But she made the first move here. And now I’m about to make the second.
My hands find her waist, my fingers slipping under her thin tank top to brush along the side of her bare breast. I push her
back against the cold mirror, causing it to rattle, as my fingers dig into her soft-as-butter curves. She tastes faintly of
mint as her tongue tangles with mine like she’s trying to prove a point I already understand.
There’s no walking this back now. We’re not putting on a show for a party, or in a parking garage, sharing our truths before
making an impulsive decision to kiss.
It’s just the two of us in my rustic barn flat, and there is nothing to stop us now.
“Everly,” I rasp against her lips, needing to be fully certain she wants what I want.
“What?” she murmurs, nipping at my bottom lip before grabbing my neck and kissing me even harder.
Something primal thrums in my chest, loud enough to drown out the voice telling me this is a bad idea.
I yank her hips forward, and she gasps against my mouth, causing my heart to hammer in my chest. I slide my hand up her bare thigh, my fingers digging into the meat of her bottom, growling as she shivers under my touch.
Her breath hitches when she feels the ridge of my cock on her core, but she doesn’t stop.
If anything, she pulls me closer, her legs gripping me tighter.
I break our kiss and press my forehead to hers, breathing her in, letting her see the barely restrained hunger I usually keep
locked down tight. “Are you sure about this? ’Cause you’re playing with fire right now,” I growl, my voice low and gravelly.
Her raw lips glisten in the warm bathroom lighting before she utters, “I want to burn.”
And God help me, that’s just what I needed to hear.
With a grunt, I lift her off the counter, my hands gripping under her bottom as I carry her out of my bathroom and over to
my bed. Her lips drag down my throat as she licks and nips with fiery passion that I honestly didn’t know she was capable
of.
I drop her down onto my navy duvet cover, and her eyes instantly zero in on my groin, noting the obvious erection inside my
sweatpants. I fight the urge to fist myself when reality prickles into my mind, causing me to stop everything.
“I don’t have a condom,” I state regretfully, swallowing the knot in my throat as her short blonde hair fans out on my bed.
God, my bed will smell like her for days, and I fucking relish that thought.
“Oh . . . um . . . that’s okay,” she says, sitting up on her elbows and looking suddenly insecure. “We can just . . . I can
go.”
I drop to my knees in front of her. “I don’t want you to go.”
She offers me a wobbly smile like I soothed her self-doubt. “What did you have in mind?”
My fingers move forward and trace the outline of her nipple, and she sucks in a sharp breath when I dip lower, toying with
the waistband of her shorts. “I want to taste you. Would you be alright with that?”
She releases a shuddered breath and instantly tenses up. “Oh . . . um . . . I’ve never . . . had anyone do that before.”
My fingers freeze on her waist. “Christ, are you a virgin?”
“No,” she blurts out, pushing away from me. She backs up toward the middle of the bed and pulls her knees up under her chin,
squeezing herself for comfort. “I just . . . never had anyone who ever wanted to do that.”
“What? Oral sex?” I ask, needing her to be perfectly clear.
She shrugs. “I mean . . . I’ve done it to him. But he just never did it to me. It’s different for guys, I’m sure.”
She said him as if she’s speaking of one person. And if it’s that Hilow prick, every marginally generous thought I had about him is now
gone forever, and he deserves to be punched in the fucking nuts.
My chest heaves when I ask Everly, “Have you only ever been with one guy?”
She nods and rolls her eyes. “Shocking, I know. I clearly have amazing game.”
Her tone is self-deprecating as she forces a laugh, and I fucking hate it. Those fucking girls really did a number on her
because, somehow, she went through four years at Trinity having no idea how alluring she is without even trying. The way she
always has a smile for strangers or meets people where they are, while also pushing them to be better. I saw it best when
she and my sister became close. It’s a gift, really. I don’t think Everly even realizes all that she did for Cliona in the
aftermath of her ex. She brought her back to life.
But from the day I met Everly Fletcher in first year, I could see something unique in her.
Her need to help people infuriated me back then, but if I were real with myself, I could admit that it also soothed an ache in me that I’d harbored since my childhood experiences.
Her genuine kindness gave me hope in humanity that I’d damn near lost completely before I met her.
And the fact that she doesn’t see herself for all that she is makes me irrationally angry.
“Listen, Everly . . . I’m going to say this to you only once, but I want you to remember it for the rest of your life.” My
voice is low and threatening as my eyes focus on hers and not her body or legs or lips. This is for her soul to hear. “Any
bloke who lets you suck him off and doesn’t want to do the same to you isn’t worth the sweat on his fucking undeserving nut
sack.”
The corners of her mouth curl into a sexy smirk that I would really like to fucking kiss.
“And if it’s alright with you . . . I’d like to make up for all mankind by using my undeserving tongue to give you the orgasm
of your life.”
Her smile falters for a moment, and she gets a peculiar look in her big blue eyes that I can’t quite discern, but then she
bites her lip and nods.
“Come here,” I murmur before grabbing her by the ankles and yanking her toward the edge of the bed.
She squeals with laughter, her short blonde strands falling into her face as she sits on the edge of the bed, her legs spread
around where I’m kneeling between them. I reach up and delicately brush a strand out of her face, drinking in her creamy complexion
and that stunning blush in her cheeks before slicing my fingers into her hair and crushing my lips to hers.
I grip her hair and angle her head to deepen the kiss, my body needing to consume her breath and her arousal all at once.
My other hand grips her bare leg, digging into her smooth skin as I pull her close, erasing every inch of space between us.
I pull away and murmur, “Stand up.”
And she does, on somewhat wobbly legs. Her fingers slide through my hair as I lean back and slowly peel her shorts down her legs so I’m eye level with her pale purple lace G-string. Goose bumps riot over her skin as I stroke my thumb over the damp area on her underwear.
“Christ, you’re soaked,” I growl and lean in to drag my tongue over the textured fabric covering her slick heat.
She lets out a throaty moan, buckling over top of me as she holds on to my head like she’s hanging off a cliff. Her scent