Chapter Eleven #2
His voice is wrecked, but the satisfied purr is what sinks into my skin.
It’s hard not to think of all the little excuses he’s found to touch me over the last two weeks, the casual brushes that I’m beginning to think were anything but.
I laugh into his throat, press another light kiss to his erratic pulse, and then reluctantly shift my weight back so the tempting ridge of his arousal is no longer against my hip.
“I think I’ve got it now,” I tell him, resting my hands on his shoulders. “Might need a reminder in the morning.”
Wes laughs, head thrown back into the pillows, and stretches to kiss the tip of my nose before easing out from under me. “That’s a much nicer way to tell me to get out than I expected.”
“Hey.” I snag his wrist before he gets any farther than standing next to the bed. “You don’t have to go right this second. I’d…like it if you stayed. At least for a little while. If you want.”
Wes gives me a long, indecipherable look. “Are you sure I won’t be in your way? I don’t want to keep you from resting.”
“You’re not in my way.” Without knowing how long this is going to last, I’m going to make the most of whatever time we have together. “Migraine isn’t gone completely, but I feel a lot better.”
His expression turns playful. “Sloane, if you want me to kiss you again, you can just say that.”
My instinct to protest dies before the words get out. I do want Wes to kiss me again—I want way more than kissing, if I’m honest with myself.
He settles next to me and opens his arms in invitation, waggling his eyebrows in a ridiculous, exaggerated leer.
It takes some of the tension out of the room, leaving me laughing as I snuggle into his chest. The soothing brush of his fingers combing through my hair and the steady thud of his heartbeat have me melting into him before long.
“Is there anything other than meds that helps with the pain? Hot washcloth? Ice?” His touch sweeps lower to rest on the back of my neck, massaging the sore muscles that haven’t quite unlocked.
“Nah.” I sigh into his chest and bury my nose in his T-shirt. “It’s not that bad anymore. Should be gone by the time I wake up. This helps,” I mumble with a yawn. Clean, fed, and well kissed, sleepiness settles over me. “You make a decent pillow.”
With the low rumble of his laugh under my ear, Wes’s languid touch lulls me into a light doze.
His heartbeat slows into a steady thump, chest rising and falling in deep breaths as he relaxes deeper into the pillows.
Contentment washes over me, cocooning us in a dark, warm bubble where I lose all track of time.
It’s comfortable and surprisingly easy being with him like this. But when Wes brushes his lips against my hair in an intimate gesture filled with far more affection than lust, the soft glow of my thoughts turns sharp.
This is too easy. Dangerously easy.
I pick my head up and blink a few times to test the level of pain. An ache lingers behind my eyes, the kind I can ignore if I want to. The kind I can be distracted from.
“There is one thing.”
Something in my expression must give a hint of what I’m thinking, because Wes’s furrowed brow smooths out into a cheeky grin. “Would this have anything to do with that audiobook?”
I started this, but that doesn’t make it any easier to actually ask for what I want. I swallow hard, then shift my weight closer. The hand on my back slides lower, settling on my ass as I lift to bring my mouth close to his ear. “And if it does?”
His chest rises sharply under me with a harshly drawn breath. “Tell me and it’s yours,” Wes says, all the muscles laid out beneath mine newly tense. “Whatever you want, Sloane.”
Heat zips along my skin and settles low in my stomach at the ragged words. I slide back onto his lap, my thighs spread over his, and loop my arms around his neck. His hand finds its way under the hoodie to rest on my back, skin to skin, his thumb brushing over the base of my spine.
Tension coils between us. A faint flush blooms across the top of his cheeks, but Wes doesn’t move beyond the light touch at my back. Waiting, despite the half-lidded anticipation he doesn’t try to hide.
The moment my mouth touches his, his palm settles on my jaw.
I press closer, deepening the kiss and letting out a barely there moan when his grip shifts to my hair.
I rock into him, pleasure turning molten at the feel of him hardening beneath me.
I do it again, my breathy groan mingling with his choked-off curse before our lips meet.
“Touch me,” I murmur against his mouth. “Make me feel good, Wes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, accent thickening as his control slips. He sucks a kiss against my throat, tongue dancing over my throbbing pulse, and then rolls me beneath him. Another kiss, this one deeper, his weight delicious as he presses me into the mattress.
Wes keeps kissing me as he drops one hand to my bare thigh and slowly drags it up to the waistband of my shorts.
I tense with anticipation, forgetting to breathe until he laughs against my lips.
His second stroke up my leg ends with his hand sliding under the shorts, cutting off his laughter with a raspy, “No underwear?”
He doesn’t give me a chance to reply, not that he needs one.
He can feel my bare skin for himself, his fingers slowly moving down along my hip before sinking between my thighs and pressing firmly.
I whimper at the pleasure of it, the lingering traces of pain in my head forgotten as he grinds his palm down.
My hips jerk involuntarily, a breathless more falling off my tongue.
Wes gives me what I need, fingers sinking lower until they slide through slick heat. “I did this to you.” His voice is full of satisfaction as he teases me, vowels slipping into each other in an accent as strong as I’ve ever heard it. “Tell me you’re this wet because of me.”
I make an incoherent noise, not capable of answering when Wes slides a finger into me, the touch almost too gentle. Tightening my grip in his hair, I drag his mouth back to mine in a silent plea.
“I got you, darlin’.” His touch turns firmer, two fingers sliding in and curling as his thumb goes to work on my clit.
We’re both still fully dressed, his hand down my pants like we’re teenagers in the back seat of a car.
I don’t care one bit. It feels so good that I don’t realize I’m about to come until the orgasm screams through me, leaving my thighs quivering and the rest of me limp.
“Just give me a second.” Air saws out of my lungs as I rub my thigh against his hard cock. “That was…you’re…good.”
Wes chuckles, easing his hips away from me and stealing another kiss, back to gentle and sweet. “How’s the pain?”
I blink, the last bits of it no longer lingering. “Gone.”
“Good.” He kisses the tip of my nose and pulls back. “You should be able to get back to sleep now.”
“But what about…You didn’t…”
Wes rolls off the bed and doesn’t make a secret of adjusting the bulge in his pants.
“Wasn’t about me. We need to get an early start tomorrow if you’re up for it.
I’ll take care of myself tonight.” He swoops in for another kiss, this one full of need and promise.
“But don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll think of you the whole time. ”