Chapter Sixteen
He drops my shirt onto the floor, the material splatting on the hardwood, but he doesn’t care. His eyes are wide, unadulterated arousal shining from their depths as he gives himself over to the white-hot lust he’s tried to hide.
He’s a man possessed as he stalks slowly forward, his attention homed in on me, his nostrils flaring, jaw hard, and a thrill of delight bursts through me.
I spin on my heel and run.
Wyatt doesn’t disappoint as I hear him chase after me, my laughter ringing around his house as I dart for the stairs. I have no idea where I’m going. All I know is I like his pursuit of me, like the danger of teasing this man whose restraint I’ve broken, even if it’s just for tonight.
But most of all, I want to be caught.
A strong arm bands around my waist as I reach the top, hauling me against an even stronger chest. I squeal, the sound turning into a breathy moan as Wyatt’s teeth bite into my shoulder.
“Oh god, ” I breathe out, grinding my ass against the outline of his extremely hard and extremely thick cock.
It appears Big Dick doesn’t just apply to his Energy .
My mouth dries at the thought of teasing it, licking it, tasting it. Exploring every single part of his body, taking my time with him, learning what turns him on. But Wyatt’s rules didn’t stipulate any time for foreplay. He wants inside me, and with the way his teeth graze my sensitive flesh, I don’t think I’ve got it in me to fight for more.
I want him as much as I want my next breath.
In a heartbeat, he spins me, my back slamming against a wall, his large hand cupping the back of my head in a move so smooth that I want to ask him if he’s done that before or if it was to be a gentleman.
But there’s nothing gentlemanly about him as his free hand palms my breast, roughly squeezing over the lacy cup of my bra, my nipple hardening embarrassingly quickly in his firm hold.
I miss the contact as he travels down my stomach. My muscles jump from his touch until he reaches my ass, kneading almost painfully into one cheek before grabbing my thigh and lifting my leg to hook around his hip. I’m making sounds I’ve never made before as he grinds into me, the feeling of his hard cock against my core phenomenal. That alone is better than I’ve ever experienced, better than the hookups I’ve had in the dark with boys because Wyatt Grant is all man.
Possessive and taking what he wants without question.
His gray sweatpants leave little to the imagination, and neither do my leggings as he takes control, using my thigh to rut against me, my panties absolutely soaked and it’s not from being out in the rain. Wyatt’s hand from behind my head shifts to my breasts, yanking down my bra, the elastic biting into my skin, but I don’t care. The sharp sting of pain is masked by the pleasure his fingers deliver when his thumb brushes over my nipple.
I gasp, arching into his hold, and his lips kiss the slope of my neck, down my chest, where he draws my nipple into his mouth. It feels amazing, the warmth, the wetness, the expert way his tongue teases me. Who knew nipple play could be like this? My hand flies to his hair, tugging at the strands like I’ve wanted to for so long until he tears himself away with a growl.
“Off,” he demands, then quickly turns me around so my front is now pressed to the wall as his fingers deftly unclasp my bra. Tugging it down my arms, he tosses it aside, his hands sliding down my back, delivering a light slap to my ass that makes me jump. “These too.”
I shiver, his commands lightening me up, the submissive side I didn’t know I have eager to do as he says. With nervous excitement, I hook my trembling fingers into the waistband of my pants. I’m wound that tight, goosebumps dance across my skin as I slowly pull down my pants.
Wyatt’s hands clutch the sides, tearing them down my legs with a sense of urgency I feel in his accompanying growl, taking my panties with them. He tugs them off my feet, carefully balancing me against him until I’m completely naked in his hallway. Wyatt’s front is to my back, his hands returning to roam down my stomach, taking his sweet fucking time to reach between my legs.
My feet are kicked apart, one and then the other, and he brings his sweatpants-clad thigh between them, his fingers stopping just shy of where I really want him to touch. I moan as my head falls back against his shoulder and his warm breath ghosts the shell of my ear.
“Look at how badly you want me,” he murmurs, his words vibrating against my back. He dips a finger lower, the tip teasing my entrance, playing with my wetness, then drags it up my middle. He circles my clit for the briefest of seconds, the contact making my knees weakening instantly.
Now I know why his thigh is here.
His free hand wraps around my waist, banding up my front, holding me against him as he starts to play with my nipples again. I shake, my desire so potent you could bottle it and sell it for thousands.
“Do you get this wet when you touch yourself thinking about me?”
My breathy moan is my answer. Then a long, languid mewl when his finger flicks against my clit again. With age comes experience, and even though the last time I thought this, jealousy pricked at my insides, none of that’s there now. He’s using it all on me, touching my body like he owns it, and I am close to combusting.
“Please,” I whisper, trying to spread my legs wider, only to find I’m on my tiptoes with little traction to help me get what I want.
He chuckles, the sound low and dangerous, before nipping the lobe of my ear. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Don’t rush me, brat.”
“Me too,” I pant. With my hands splayed out against the wall, my ass rubs against his erection, his chest hot on my back. I flinch, but not from pain, as he pinches my clit between his thumb and forefinger, the sensitive bundle of nerves sending pulses right down to my toes. My pussy clenches, desperate to be filled, by his fingers or his cock, I don’t care, I just need it. “Wyatt, please .”
“You think that because you’ve been wanting this”—he dips his finger inside, but not enough to sate my growing desire—“that means you should get to come?” He’s skirting his finger around my entrance again but never going inside. “Standing in my hall? Naked and needy, when you’ve been nothing but a tease since I met you? Don’t you think it’s my turn to tease you until you snap?”
I could cry. I’m so turned on, with no apparent end to the ache between my legs. Sweat lines my brow as his other hand gives an equal amount of attention to my breasts. His lips trail kisses along my shoulder, the stubble on his jaw burning my skin, and still, I need more.
“One night is not enough time to show you how crazy you make me,” he says, whispering his words against my throat. “But one night is enough time to leave you crazy.”
I cry out as two fingers plunge inside me, and I buck against him. His hold tightens, supporting me as he curls his talented digits, driving a moan from deep in my chest. Every part of me trembles as he works his magic, his thumb joining in and rubbing circles on my clit.
The euphoria of winning has nothing on how this man is making me feel. And only with his hand.
He knows what he’s doing, exactly where to touch, the pleasure overriding everything in my brain. I’m unable to stop my release as much as I try, sobs threatening to burst free.
“Wyatt,” I breathe, my eyes slamming shut as my orgasm slams into me quicker and more violently than ever before. I barely have time to catch my breath before he turns me around and wraps my legs around his waist, his lips on mine, kissing me with the fervor of a man who’s never seen the sun.
The sound of wood bangs against the wall as he kicks his bedroom door open, carrying me to his bed. Tossing me to his mattress, he lowers on top of me, continuing his assault on my mouth. His tongue licks and lavishes, tasting every inch like he’s trying to commit it to memory.
I do, too. Store every one of his sounds, the feel of his lips, the scrape of his stubble. He breaks the kiss, leaving me breathless and needier than when we started as he shifts off the bed, turning on a lamp.
Pushing off the bed, I scramble to my elbows, watching his inkless hands looping into the band of his sweats. My face heats as my eyes lower to the thigh with a very noticeable wet patch from where he held me, and he looks down, smirking at the mark before dragging them down his thighs, exposing his tattoos.
Kicking the pants away, he opens his nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom and throwing it onto the bed beside me. The world could come to a crashing end, and I wouldn’t notice as I’m stuck, lungs no longer working, brain function gone, watching Wyatt stroke his beautiful cock.
“Holy shit.” My eyes widen as I whisper the exact words I said when I first saw him in the pool. “You don’t have tattoos on your dick.”
His smirk is downright devilish as he wraps a hand around his length and pumps it nice and slow. I bolt upright, my jaw dropping as he twists his hand at the end.
“Holy shit, you have a piercing.”
Holy shit, Wyatt Grant has a Prince Albert.
His thumb teases the head, spreading pre-cum over the ball of the barbell. Bringing it to my lips, he smears it across my lower one.
“I’ve never fucked someone with their dick pierced,” I whisper, my gaze glued to the silver metal, my tongue following his thumbs path, moaning at his taste. A low rumble has me looking up from under my lashes, swallowing when he takes a step forward, his gaze filled with a silent command.
I open, sticking out my tongue as he taps the head of his cock against it, hissing when I flick it over the barbell.
“I’ve wanted to watch you swallow my cock every time you opened your smart mouth,” he growls, transfixed, as he watches his shaft slide back and forth. Arousal floods my veins, the unbelievable need to give him what he’s wanted overpowering me. I whimper when he takes his cock away, his hand coming to my chin and pushing my mouth closed.
Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around him, squeezing lightly and giving him a tentative stroke. He’s hot and heavy and I can’t stop looking at him, searching for his reactions as I touch him. Wyatt coils his hand around mine and increases the pressure tight enough that it’s nearly uncomfortable. His breaths deepen, jaw hardening as he stares down at me, at our hands working in tandem until he tears them away, freeing himself from our grip.
“Lay back, legs apart,” he demands.
He slowly brings one knee to the bed, followed by the other, his dark eyes predatorial as he kneels between my open legs, leaning forward to grab the condom and tearing it open with his teeth. Anticipation thrums everywhere as I watch him roll it down his cock, the motion so erotic for something not particularly sexy, and I lick my lips at the sight.
I am so ready for this. But like I told Wyatt, I’ve never had sex with someone with a piercing. Do they need extra lube, even with a condom? Do I need to be stretched a bit? I mean, the piercing itself isn’t huge …but Wyatt is.
“You can still back out,” he says, as my eyes follow his languid movements, mouth watering as I remember what he tastes like. “Pippa,” he snaps. “Look at me.”
“No.” My gaze darts to his. Immediately, I shake my head, my core tingling in fear of missing out of the pleasure his cock will undoubtedly bring. “I won’t back out. I want this.”
“Good.” He leans forward, his tattoo-covered body towering over me, his arms coming to either side of my head. His lips graze mine, teasing, tasting, before he presses firmly, and I moan. He consumes my mouth, much like he did in the hall. If he fucks the way he kisses, there is no way I won’t be in trouble.
I squirm under him, my hips pushing upward in clear invitation. “Fuck me, Wyatt.”
He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he nips my neck, kisses my collarbone, stopping only to suck hard on the side of my breast—bruising, marking, claiming. I’m a quivering mess as he continues downward, his shoulders pushing between my thighs. He runs his nose up the crease of my leg, inhaling deeply.
“You smell so fucking good,” he rasps, looking up at me. His fingers part my pussy, exposing me as he lowers his face, his breath tickling my most sensitive area as he murmurs, “I bet you taste fucking good too.”
He doesn’t go slow, doesn’t ease me into it, doesn’t tease me the way I’m used to. Wyatt goes for gold in eating pussy, his tongue plunging deep inside me, his stubble lightly scratching the inside of my legs. As his hand snakes upward, my back arches off the bed, my chest ready for his touch. Only he bypasses my breasts, two fingers playing with my lower lip before pushing inside.
I wretch, the sound humiliating, but it makes Wyatt moan.
“You sound so pretty gagging around my fingers,” he says, his eyes hooded as he lifts his head. “I want to hear you choking around my cock. But right now, get them good and wet for me, Pippa. I need to stretch your tight little cunt if you’re going to take my cock.”
Greedily, I suck them into my mouth, swirling my tongue around them, showing Wyatt exactly what I’d do if it were his cock. He doesn’t go back to eating me out, his rapt attention on my lips and the obscene sounds coming from them. When he yanks them out, my saliva trails after them before they’re thrusting inside my pussy.
I cry out his name as I stretch around him. The delicious ache he created in his hallway is back, only to be heightened as his tongue joins in. The onslaught of pleasure has me spiraling, the edge of oblivion within reach as I grab his hair, tugging him up.
“I don’t want to come on your fingers again,” I breathe. “Fuck me, Wyatt. Make me come on your cock like you promised.”
The look he gives me as he withdraws from my body is carnal, his eyes wild as he prowls up until we’re face to face. He looks feral with his cock nudging at my entrance, my pussy desperate, but he doesn’t move any farther.
Wyatt’s shoulders tense as he balances on one hand, the other sliding between us, running the thick head through my pussy, hitting against my clit, the odd sensation of his piercing making my eyes roll into the back of my head. He repeats the move, each time getting a little harder, until he notches himself against me again, pushing in just an inch.
The stretch is already greater than his fingers prepared me for, his cock thick, filling me with each gradual move of his hips. My eyes flutter shut, the feeling too much, as the back of my head digs into the pillow, my mouth gaping wide, lungs burning as I hold my breath.
“Fuck,” he groans, tipping his head back as he pulls out slightly before diving deeper. “Do that again.”
“What?” I breathe as I open my eyes. A bead of sweat lines Wyatt’s brow, his arm shaking as he hovers above me.
“Whatever you just did,” he grits out from between his teeth. “Do it again.”
I don’t know what I did, but as he draws back to the tip, I clench around him when I feel that metallic ball inside me, bumping and rubbing in all the right places.
“ Yes ,” he growls, bottoming out. “I can feel you squeezing me.”
Lifting my legs, I circle his waist, tightening around him as he groans.
“You’re killing me,” he murmurs, his forehead leaning against mine.
“I thought you said you were going to fuck me hard and fast?”
“You really are a fucking brat, aren’t you?”
A raw scream rips from me as he slams inside, his thrusts punishing as he gives me exactly that. My leg slips, loosely winding around his, but he grabs my thigh, pushing it back, his fingers biting into my skin as he surges forward. His hand moves to my stomach, just above my pubic bone and presses down. I gasp, the sensation intense as he continues to thrust, my pussy tightening as he shifts his hold enough to slide his thumb to my clit.
“Wyatt,” I pant, my back bowing off the bed when he bottoms out. “Fuck.”
He stares down at me, his blue eyes bright and unblinking as he drags his gaze to where we’re connected. Fucking me in quick bursts of his hips, his thumb matches his tempo, the sound of our bodies coming together, along with my growing moans, filling the room.
I barely contain a sob as he pulls out completely, gripping my hips and flipping me onto my front, tugging me up onto my knees.
“On all fours,” he says, his voice rough as he parts my legs, sliding his cock upward. I tense when it prods my asshole, his sardonic laugh sending chills up my spine. “Has anyone had you here before?”
He rubs his cock on my hole again, the damn thing twitching against it.
“No,” I moan, burying my flaming face into his sheets.
“Damn. If only we had more time.”
I’m about to speak when he surges back inside, cutting off my words with a scream. The angle’s different from when I was on my back, his grip on my hips bruising as he uses me to fuck against him. His cock pushes deeper, hitting spots that make me see stars, the added tap, tap, tap of his balls when his hips meet my ass.
“I’m so close,” I whimper, sweat drenching my back, the finish line in sight.
Except Wyatt doesn’t want me to cross it as he’s manhandling me again. I’m on top, sinking down, my body exhausted as I sag forward, my hands clutching his chest. Tears sting my eyes as I’m denied my orgasm. “Wyatt…”
“You’ll come when I say you can.” He’s doing everything, pumping upward, grinding me down hard, making my body sing the tune he wants. “So fucking sexy. I could watch your cunt stretch around my cock all night.”
My eyes close, a strangled cry escaping my throat as I give myself over to the pleasure of Wyatt, while the headboard bangs against the wall with each thrust. When I open my eyes again, he’s looking at me, his gaze shadowed with desire.
He sits up and bands his arms around my back, taking my mouth in a blistering kiss. Sucking his lower lip between my teeth, I bite down, and he groans, making my toes curl when he hits that spot inside me. And then it’s game over.
“Wyatt,” I shout as blinding pleasure rockets throughout my body. I swear I black out. I can’t breathe. I no longer think I’m on this planet until Wyatt grunts out something unintelligible, his face pressing into my neck as he shudders, filling the condom with his release and my name on his lips.
My body is slick with sweat, his is too, as he lies back and I collapse on top of him. We breathe in short, shallow bursts as we come down from the most unbelievable high I’ve ever experienced.
Slowly, the ability to breathe and think returns, my heart speeding up as the realization of what we’ve just done hits me like a ton of bricks.
I just fucked my dad’s employee.
And I want to do it again.