Chapter 17 #4
drives me fucking feral, and I feel my cock leak inside my sweats but silently will it to simmer down. She needs this more
than I do. She needs everything. And I’m all too happy to be the one to give it to her.
I pull back and look up at her, watching her teeter above me like she’s in six-inch heels, not barefoot and straddling my
face. “Can I take these off?” I ask, giving her a chance to stop me if she’s not comfortable.
She nods aggressively, almost comically, the need in her eyes so clear I want to roar with satisfaction, and I have barely
tasted her.
I curl my fingers inside the thin waistband and tug them down slowly, savoring the reveal of her perfect pink center. She
has a smattering of light hair above it, and I growl with hunger as I lower her back down onto the bed and grip her thighs.
The soft give of her skin under my touch has my pulse kicking like I’m in the middle of a mountainside jog.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks, her breaths coming out short and choppy, her nerves getting the best of her.
“I might not be able to . . . um . . . orgasm, and I feel bad making you—”
I cut her off with a low growl, propping her long legs on my shoulders and spreading her wide to reveal every delicious bit
of her to me.
“You let me worry about your orgasms from now on, got it?” I murmur, my mouth inches from her core.
I slide my rough palm over the sharp edge of her hip bone. Her breath catches as I gently brush my thumb over her clit. She bucks upward, falling back onto her back as she utters out a shocked little moan.
Her back arches off the bed before I’ve even kissed her, so with a deep breath, I press my mouth to her tender flesh, gently
tasting her for the first time.
She gasps, and it snaps something inside of me like throwing petrol on an open flame. I flatten my tongue and run it along
the full length of her, over and over. She clutches my hair, holding me like she’s afraid I’ll stop. It’s a baseless fear
as I’m relentless and greedy, my tongue switching from her clit to her core, thrusting and sucking and laving like a man possessed.
She tastes like the perfect kind of sin. Like an angel who fell from Heaven and begged for a romp with the devil.
I am the devil compared to her. I’m all trouble and tempers and screwups and last chances. She’s clean and sharp and sweet
and beloved. Except when she’s having one of her meltdowns, maybe. When she’s rambling about a project she’s passionate about
or tearing into me for not meeting expectations I didn’t even know she had.
She lights up in those wild moments. Cheeks flushed, hands flying everywhere, that bossy little chin tilted like she’s ready
to take on the whole world.
That’s when she’s dangerous.
Not because she’s perfect.
But because she’s real and messy and unfiltered. Cringe, not cool. And there’s an incredible bravery there that makes me fucking
desperate to embrace. She is her own person through and through, and I admire the fuck out of that.
I pull my mouth back for a breath and bring my hand around to thrust a finger deep inside her drenched channel.
I fucking whimper when I feel how tight she is.
“Christ, Everly, how long has it been?” I ask, pumping in and out of her and struggling to get a second finger inside. “How long since you were last touched?”
She rides my hand, her hips gyrating up to meet me with greedy little thrusts. “A long time.”
“How long?” I command, needing to know.
“Years,” she expels, her stomach contracting as she curls up to watch what I’m doing to her. “Before I came to Trinity.”
My body reacts primally to that thought. Like she’s been saving herself just for me. Just for my mouth, my fingers, and my
cock . . . someday. Maybe. Hopefully. Christ, I hope this isn’t a onetime thing. To taste her now and not claim her in all
the ways I want to claim her will fucking kill me.
And to know it was just that Hilow prick that had her makes me see red. He doesn’t deserve her like this.
I pull my fingers out and bring them to my mouth, sucking her arousal off, tasting her fully as I expel a groan from deep
in my chest. He didn’t have this. He didn’t taste her. He fumbled his chance, and now she’s mine.
She shivers as she watches my lips suck around my fingers, and her legs curl tighter around me, pulling me closer, silently
begging me for more. So, I give her what she wants and bury my face between her thighs, drinking in every whimper and pulse
from her sweet heat while a new coil of hunger for more grows in my gut.
Her gasps turn into tortured moans, and I feel it—her tension melting into me, both in surrender and in a plea. I thrust harder
and faster with my tongue, shaking my face between her thighs as I grip her hips aggressively and smother myself in her essence
as deep as I can. I want to drown in her. Die in her. Lose myself completely in her.
“Conri.” She pants my name, and I think it’s the first time a woman has ever done that.
Not many girls know my real name. Many only ever know me as Wolf, which doesn’t have the same effect in the bedroom.
It sounds more like a dog barking than a woman moaning out my name in pleasure.
A bit of a buzzkill, if I’m being honest.
Nothing is killing my buzz with Everly.
“Conri!” she cries out again as her legs clamp around me. I feel her coil beneath my tongue, a vibrational frenzy taking over
her groin as she tightens and then snaps, her trembling limbs jittering all over as a flood of liquid enters my mouth and
causes me to go absolutely fucking feral. I lap up her climax like it’s my most cherished possession. My own personal nectar
of divinity.
And I don’t even realize that I’m climaxing as well. Blowing it right in my fucking sweats. Christ, when has that ever happened
to me? Not since I was a boy and had wet dreams, I suspect. That’s what this girl does to me. She makes me lose all control.
Fuck, I could do this forever. See her like this for all time. I know it’s the haze of sex talking right now, but the fact
that I’ve climaxed without her even touching me says something. Something really fucking scary.
After an undisclosed amount of time, her legs relax, and I miraculously regain full hearing. I pull back, my face covered
in her release, and gaze in amazement at her red, swollen sex, glistening and shuddering like it went through hell and back
and is all the better for it. My heart hammers in my chest, pulse still racing with the reality that no other man has had
her like this, so in this way only . . . she is mine and mine alone.
The primal satisfaction that stirs in my gut over that reality is fucking terrifying.
Her eyes flick down to me, wide, vulnerable, and I feel something fierce twist inside of me. I misjudged Everly Fletcher.
She might be a lot, but she’s a lot I’m willing to handle.