Chapter Three
Wells
Jesus Fucking Christ . This incredible woman is going to be the death of me.
I saw the sadness in Victory’s eyes when she talked about her late husband warring with the lust radiating toward me.
That twisted me up inside, and I almost backed off, but something about her refused to let me.
Now I can only imagine the magnitude of what she’s feeling after all these years, and I want to help her bridge the gap between her past and her future.
I want to give her whatever she needs, even if for only one night, to help her feel as confident, desirable, and empowered as she is outside the bedroom.
She plants a hand on her hip, her gorgeous eyes narrowing in warning, that pink butterfly on her wrist teasing me like a secret I want her to unveil. “Don’t even think about telling me no.”
“You’re not going to hear any complaints out of me. There’s nothing sexier than a woman who takes what she wants.” I lower my back to the mattress, happy to let her fuck me to her heart’s content, and reach for her. “Climb on, cowgirl.”
That earns a sexy smile as she straddles me. “Eyes on me, boy toy.”
“I look forward to seeing you take my cock, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you call me boy while we fuck.” I grab the base of my cock, aligning it with her entrance with one hand, and grab her hip with the other.
Her eyes narrow. “Oh, I think you will.” She holds my gaze, hovering over my cock, and palms her breast, fondling it as she slides her other hand between her legs, teasing herself. Her face contorts with pleasure. “ Ah. I’m so wet.” She rolls her nipple between her finger and thumb, moaning.
She’s so fucking sexy, my dick jerks, and I grit out a curse.
“What’s it going to be? Boy toy, or should I get dressed and go?”
I realize she’s playing off what I said to her earlier. “You sassy little minx. You can call me your boy toy tonight, but I’m going to fuck you so thoroughly, you’ll never make that mistake again.”
“This is a onetime thing, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
I grit my teeth, wondering why that bothers me, but I don’t have time to overthink it as she lowers herself, taking every inch of my cock. She’s so tight, I clench my teeth at the raw pleasure burning through me, and grit out, “ Fuck ,” as she pants out, “ Holy cow .”
“Did you spend the last five years doing Kegels?”
She laughs, and her pussy tightens around me.
The pleasure is excruciating. “Jesus, Vic. You’re like a goddamn vise.
” That makes her laugh even harder, her inner muscles clamping around me.
“You keep laughing, and this’ll be over before we get started.
” I grab her hips as more melodic laughter rings out, and her hands land on my chest, her hair curtaining her face.
“We’ve got to move, sweet thing.” I thrust up, and she gasps. Fuck . I freeze. “Did I hurt you?”
She shakes her head, her hair trailing over my chest, her smile lighting me up inside. “I’m just not used to having half a baseball bat inside me.”
“Get over here.” I pull her mouth to mine, and we kiss through our laughter. I move slowly, giving her body time to adjust. She feels so fucking good, but this isn’t about me. “Feel good, baby?”
“ Mm-hm . So good.” She sits up, grinding against me.
I let her set the pace, and what a stunning sight she is as she gathers speed, riding me faster, grinding harder, her gorgeous tits and hair bouncing in the best fucking show on earth.
“That’s it, baby. Ride my cock like you own it.
” Those are not words I’ve ever uttered before, but hell if they don’t feel right.
I tease her clit with one hand, grabbing her hip with the other, helping her move faster, trying to outrun that feeling.
“ Ohgod ,” she pants out, arching against my hand. “Feels so good.”
“I need those tits.”
“Yes—”
I sit up, sweeping an arm around her, and take her nipple into my mouth.
My teeth graze over it, and she cries out.
Those fucking sounds are killing me. I do it again to earn another, and she doesn’t disappoint.
I can’t get enough of her—her body, her humor, this whole damn night—and one word plays in my mind like a mantra. More. More. More.
I grab her ass with both hands, taking control of our speed as I devour her other breast.
“Don’t stop… ohgod … Wells …”
The desperation in my name tugs at something deep inside me.
What is it about this woman that’s fucking with my head?
She moans and writhes, her hair falling over our shoulders, her fingernails cutting into my flesh.
It hurts so good, I thrust harder. It doesn’t take long before she shatters, her pussy pulsing around my cock as she cries out my name. Music to my fucking ears.
We ride that wave, and as she comes down from the peak, I lavish her other breast with attention, rougher than before, sending her crashing into another climax. When those baby blues hit me, I get the strange urge to sweep her beneath me and gaze into those hauntingly sexy eyes while I come.
I don’t ever do that, and the fact that I want to twists me up even more. When she comes down from the high, I lift her off me, gritting out, “On your hands and knees, sweet cheeks.” She’s like a fucking dream, doing as I ask. “Look at you, so trusting, with your gorgeous ass in the air.”
“Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.”
Like I said, a fucking dream come true. I grab her waist with both hands and drive into her. “Yes—” flies from her lungs, and she pushes her hips back, taking me impossibly deeper.
As I pound into her, I grab a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back, testing her limits, eliciting greedy pleas and more sinful sounds.
The urge to claim her, to rip off this condom and come on her ass, slams into me.
I haven’t wanted to claim a woman since I was a teenager.
I ran from the urge then, and I try to chase it away now.
“Squeeze your legs together,” I demand, and she does.
Pleasure consumes me. My cock aches for release.
I reach around her, touching her where I know it’ll set her off like a fucking bomb.
Her pussy clamps tight, and she screams my name so loud, it echoes off the walls, severing my restraint.
Pleasure slams into me, and I roar out her name.
A string of curses follows as we thrust and grind, riding the explosive torrent of our passion.
Our bodies jerk and thrust, and I stay with her until the last aftershock rumbles through us.
I realize I’m still holding her hair and release it, hoping I didn’t hurt her.
Her head falls between her shoulders, and she goes down onto her elbows.
Jesus . I’ve never gotten so lost in a woman.
I press a kiss to her spine. “Was I too rough?”
She shakes her head and sinks to the mattress.
I lie beside her, gathering her in my arms. “I didn’t mean to pull your hair so hard.”
“It’s okay. I liked it.” Snuggling against me, she whispers, “I miss this.”
“I thought you might. You’re a passionate woman. Sex is good for your body and your brain.”
She tilts her face up with a sweet smile, in stark contrast to the snarky, sexual animal she was a minute ago. “I missed that, too, but I was talking about lying in someone’s arms. I forgot how much I like cuddling.”
I hold her tighter and kiss her forehead. I’ve never been a cuddler, but hell if I’m not loving this.
“There should be a business where you can rent a man for cuddling.” She puts her hand on my chest and tilts her face up. “I bet there are professional cuddlers. They have everything else in this city.”
“You don’t want some random guy in your bed. I’ll be your cuddler anytime you want.”
“That’s sweet of you, but you’ve more than fulfilled my boy-toy needs, and I truly appreciate it.”
“I’ll give you boy toy .” I nip at her lower lip, and she laughs. I lift her hand and kiss that tiny pink butterfly. “Cute tattoo. Does it have a special meaning?”
“No. I just like butterflies,” she says a little wistfully, and lowers her hand.
I get the feeling there’s more to that story, which only makes her more intriguing. “I’ll be right back.” I head into the bathroom to get rid of the condom.
When I return, she’s in the living room getting dressed. She turns her back to me as she puts on her dress. This fucking stings. I pull on my boxer briefs and jeans and head over to her. She’s reaching for her zipper.
“I’ll get that.” I zip up her dress. “You in a hurry?”
“No, I just…” She turns with an apologetic expression. “This was fun, but I need to go.”
“I’ll get you a car or walk you home. How far is your place?”
“It’s not far, but I’ve got it. Thanks.” Averting her eyes, she reaches for her bag and pulls out her phone, focusing on it. “There’s a car right around the corner.”
“I’ll walk you down.” She’s still not looking at me, so I put my arms around her, drawing her eyes to mine. “What’s going on, Vic? Are you embarrassed?”
“ No ,” she says emphatically. “We had fun, and now the night’s over. I thought we were on the same page about this.”
“We are,” I say, wishing we weren’t, which I don’t fully understand, so I take a step back. “I’m just making sure you’re good.”
“I’m totally fine, but I need to use your bathroom before I go.”
As she hurries into the bathroom, I put on my shirt and shoes, wondering why it bothers me that she’s taking off so fast. It shouldn’t .
We were good together, and it was fun, but I knew she was using me.
This was a big step for her after so many years of grieving her husband.
She’s got to have a lot of emotional shit going on in her head.
I guess it makes sense that she wants to get out of here, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to us than what went on tonight.
Our connection feels too real to be a one-off.