30. Wilder
CHAPTER THIRTY
wilder
E vangeline squeaks as I lift her from the floor and guide her legs around my waist. The feel of her in my arms, warm and pliant, and the delicious, musky scent of her sweat make my mouth water. I want to lick every salty inch of her, but there’s one spot in particular I’m dying to devour.
“Which one of these doors is a bedroom?” I ask roughly.
Arousal and alarm war in her eyes as she points a trembling finger. Good. It means she remembers the promise I made last week—the one I’m about to make good on.
I waste no time crossing the large living room and shouldering my way past a partially open door. A swift kick closes it behind us. Luckily, the lights are on, so I don’t have to waste time searching for a switch. Striding to the giant bed, I tear back the gold-embroidered comforter and dump her on the sheets. Then I crawl over her on all fours, my eyes soaking in the feast beneath me. Beautiful, flushed face and eyes that haunt my dreams. Corseted breasts heaving against the long-sleeved mesh bodysuit beneath it. Miniskirt riding up with every restless swish of her legs in their artfully ripped black tights.
Fucking exquisite.
When I bend down and nuzzle my face into her neck to taste her drying sweat, her hips punch upward on a breathy moan.
“Wilder, wait. At least let me—” My palm over her mouth muffles the rest of her words.
The spark of indignation in her eyes brings a wicked grin to my lips. “No talking. If you want me to stop, you can smack my head. Better hit me hard, though, because I’ll be drowning in your pussy.”
Her pupils dilate, dainty nostrils flaring. I watch the war play out in her eyes—her need to have my face between her thighs battling with the bullshit societal conditioning telling her she should wash first. Like her sweat doesn’t simply enhance her natural scent and make me fucking feral.
I drag my nose along hers and over one flushed cheek. “What’s it gonna be, Fairy?” I croon. “Yes or no?”
She nods, a sharp jerk of her chin.
“Good answer.”
Releasing her mouth, I drag my hand over her neck to her chest, where my fingers make quick work of the eye hooks of her corset. The stiff fabric sags open, revealing her bare breasts under soft, black mesh. Her nipples pebble beneath my gaze, the pale mounds jerking with her panting breaths. I flick one nipple, then the other, smirking when she slaps her hands over her mouth to trap the sound that wants to escape.
“Ever thought about piercing these?”
Her eyes throw sparks that make me chuckle and kiss her deep and sloppy and hard. When I come up for air, she looks dazed but still has the wherewithal to jab a finger at the watch on my wrist.
I cock an eyebrow. “You think I’ll need more than a minute or two to have your cum all over my face?”
Embarrassment and lust turn her face bright red. Grinning, I resume my downward path, pausing on her chest until the transparent fabric shines wetly around her nipples and her fingers twist and clench in the sheets above her head. I move lower, and lower still, every stroke of my hands and graze of my tongue slowly overwhelming her brain until all she can do is feel .
When I find the edge of the bed, I pull her with me by the hips until my knees hit the floor. Without me asking, she spreads her legs, shimmying until her miniskirt is pooled around her waist.
“Such a good slut for me,” I whisper.
She makes a small, desperate sound as I lean forward, pressing my nose to the juncture of her thighs and inhaling. Goddamn. My balls tighten and my patience evaporates. I grab the waistband of her tights and strip them off, then pull her thighs onto my shoulders.
“Fuck,” I grunt as I lift her toward my face. “You have the prettiest, neediest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
She’s quivering ambrosia on my tongue. I savor every flavor and texture I can find with long, slow licks before finally giving her swollen clit the attention it deserves. Within seconds, her thighs begin to tremble around my head, her head thrashing from side to side. At the barest brush of my teeth, she explodes with a ragged cry, bucking against my face. Growling in satisfaction, I drive my tongue inside her to feel the fading contractions of her orgasm.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, her muscles going limp.
I bite her labia—not hard, but hard enough to make her spasm. “Not my name, brat.”
She yanks my face up by my hair, the burn on my scalp transferring directly to my dick. When she sees my expression, the irritation on her face melts to surprise. Then intrigue.
I chuckle and wipe my hand over my mouth. “You can hurt me another time, Fairy. Right now you need to eat and drink some tea. Do you want to rinse off?”
Her expression softens and she nods. She releases my hair, her fingertips trailing over my cheek and passing, featherlight, across my lips. Her eyes flicker down to the bulge in my pants.
“Can I return the favor first?”
I shake my head, bending forward to give her pussy a final kiss that makes her twitch. “Later,” I murmur, avoiding her probing eyes as I get to my feet. “I’ll turn on the shower. Is that your bag in the corner?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Pain pinches my chest at her small, disappointed voice, but I keep walking, grabbing her small duffel and heading into the bathroom. The room matches the suite’s aesthetics, all white marble and gleaming gold accents. I crank the dial in the glass-walled shower, leaving my fingers under the flow as it heats up. My other hand lowers to my dick, adjusting it to a more comfortable position.
Do I want a blowjob from Evangeline? Abso-fucking-lutely. But I haven’t let her go down on me. And I can’t explain to her why because it will make me sound like a lunatic. While the thought of her mouth on me is one of my favorite fantasies, the idea of it happening in reality gives me an uneasy feeling. Like the act is beneath her or will diminish her somehow.
There’s another reason, too—at least at the moment. Despite how hard I am, it will take more time than we have for me to climax. Which has absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do with opiates.
Self-disgust curls through me.
“Did you get my text?”
At Evangeline’s soft voice behind me, I wipe the scowl from my face and turn. My IQ drops a hundred points at the sight of her standing naked before me, her toes curling into a cream-colored bathmat as she spirals her hair into a bun and secures it.
Amusement brightens her eyes. “Hello?”
I don’t lift my gaze from her body. Even her belly button is perfect. There are three small moles under her right breast that remind me of Orion’s belt. I want to lick them. Map them. Make my own constellations on her body with bite marks.
She snaps her fingers in my face, her voice full of laughter as she says, “Focus, Wilder.”
I finally lift my gaze and hear the question she asked. “I didn’t get a text from you. Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing. I called a bunch when I got here, but you didn’t answer, and some jerk security bro wouldn’t let me in the house to look for you.”
“There’s no cell service in here.” She smiles faintly, and the tension I didn’t realize she was carrying vanishes. Unfortunately, that tension transfers right to me.
“You thought I wasn’t coming?” I keep my voice light. Even though I promised?
“No, I knew you’d be here,” she says quickly. Too quickly. “Your intro was a nice surprise, by the way. Thank you. I love you.” Lifting to her toes, she gives me a kiss, then slips past me into the shower. “God, that feels good. Hey, when you make tea, can you use the sachets I brought in my purse? It’s on the couch. Oh, and don’t tell Rye I’ve been talking, okay? He’ll be annoying about it.”
I smile and nod like my gut isn’t churning. Like she didn’t just lie to me. Like I’m not the biggest hypocrite in the world.
The biggest liar of them all.