Chapter Twenty
Wyatt’s attention shifts to the door, and the same chill of rejection prepares to wash over me. Not wanting to take me up on my offer to join me in the shower after our one-and-done stung—why else would I have downplayed how much that night meant to me the following morning?—but if he does it again now...
I swallow, waiting with my heart in my throat.
“If we do this,” he starts, his voice low, gravelly, sexy. “It wo—"
“It doesn’t count,” I say quickly, cutting him off, not wanting to give him time to talk himself out of this. “International ground. What we do on French soil can’t be used against us at home.”
“You found that loophole fast,” he teases, and my god, I love it when he’s playful. It’s like he’s reserved it just for me.
I toss my hair over my shoulder, feeling pretty smug with myself, earning a smirk from Wyatt. It’s short-lived, though, as he slowly stalks forward, and I feel like prey caught in his snare as his eyes darken with desire.
Desire for me.
“That night, I didn’t have enough time to do everything I wanted to. I had to settle for a taste, but now, I’m going to overindulge,” he says, the words husky doing stupid things to my libido. The little fight he has in him disappears as his hands find my hips, his fingers branding marks into my skin, even through the fabric of my yoga pants. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it. I’ll devour you, savor you, learn every way your body lights up when I touch it”—I suck in a breath as he drags my tank top up and over my head, letting it fall to the floor—“lick it”—he dips his head, his nose running down the length of my throat, sucking when he reaches the bottom—“kiss it.” He bends and mouths my breast, over the cotton of my bra, my nipples instantly hardening. “I’ll make you get on your knees, suck my cock like you were so eager to when you sucked my fingers, like a greedy little slut.”
My pussy throbs for him to call me that again and again. “Do you want to hear me gagging around your cock, Captain?” I tease, saliva pooling in my mouth at the thought.
His nostrils flare as his gaze drops to my mouth. “I want that and so much more. I want to feel every muscle flutter and pulse as you writhe on top of me so good that you’d win gold for riding cock.”
An extremely unsexy snort sneaks past my lips, causing Wyatt to smile as he straightens, his blue eyes locked on mine, making me feel hot all over. I duck my head, breaking the connection, feeling my cheeks flush until his fingers touch my chin, tilting my head up, mirth dancing on his face.
“What? Too much?” He trails his thumb across my lower lip before leaning to whisper, “What about, I want to memorize how you sound when you cry out my name, remember your face when you’re overcome with pleasure? All because of me.”
I’m nodding lazily as he runs his tongue up the shell of my ear while unfastening my bra. My pulse thrashes violently on the side of my neck, beating faster with each swipe until he bites on my earlobe. I gasp, my hands flying to his shoulders to keep myself steady.
“You say such pretty things, Captain Grant,” I taunt, my words morphing into a squeal as he increases the pressure. “Ouch.”
“What did I say about calling me that?”
“But when the punishment is so delicious, how can I resist—” I yelp as he wraps his hands around my thighs, hauling me into the air.
My back hits the mattress before I know what’s happening, Wyatt’s shirt is fully off and his pants hang low around his hips. My eyes hungrily sweep over his body, across the ink that covers almost every glorious inch of him. I want to see him fully naked in all his glory. I want to map every tattoo with my tongue and trace outlines around them until they’re all permanently stored inside my head the way they are on his body.
He doesn’t give me any more time to linger as he crawls on top of me, his lips melding to mine in a searing kiss that could melt me through the mattress. I love the weight of him on me, the way his skin feels against mine, every molecule in my body reacting deliciously to his contact.
Lowering to the junction between my legs, his strong fingers rub my pussy through my leggings. But it’s not enough. I need more as I widen my legs, relishing the friction the cotton makes against my sensitive flesh, but I want the material gone. I want to feel his fingers on me without a barrier. I need him to touch me the way he did that night weeks ago.
“Wyatt,” I groan, but the sound is pathetic even to my ears as I wiggle against the bed.
His chuckle vibrates on my lips. “So impatient,” he murmurs, lowering to take my nipple between his teeth.
He bites down hard enough that I hiss, my back arching as his hand finds the other, kneading roughly. He sucks hard to the point of pain, making me pant, the wet pop obscene as he lets go before gently blowing on the bud. My skin breaks out in goosebumps as I wriggle under his touch.
“So responsive to just my breath.” His blue eyes hold my gaze before he continues his journey with a smirk. A filthy smirk that promises insurmountable pleasure that only he can deliver. “Let's see if you react the same with my tongue.”
I squirm impatiently as my core pulses with excitement. “Then undress me and show me.”
I shove at his shoulders, urging him down. His hands circle my wrists, his expression fierce as he pins them to the bed. “When I’m good and ready. Act like a brat and I won’t touch you at all.”
“You will if you want me to suck your dick,” I growl, my arousal intensifying.
He huffs a humorless laugh, rolling his hips so I can feel his hard length grind against me. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging to wrap your pretty lips around my cock.”
I should call him an arrogant bastard, take over and tease him the way he’s expertly teasing me, but all thoughts vanish as he leaves hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses on my skin. He doesn’t leave anywhere uncovered, whether by his hands or his mouth, until his fingers slip into the waistband of my leggings. I lift my hips, giving him the space to pull them down my legs, but he leaves my panties on. I release a whine, needing to get the wet material off, too, but he bats away my hands, his expression dangerous as he regards me.
“Leave them,” he demands, and I dig my head back into the mattress in frustration. I want to sob, my body trembling, desperate to be sated in a way only he knows how to do. My legs spread even wider, a futile attempt to cool my overheated flesh when Wyatt lowers between them, his face in line with my pussy, his breath whispering against my skin as he looks at me.
It’s torture. That’s what he’s doing, slowly breaking me until I beg him to fuck me like he wanted. I’ll do it. I’m not above it. I’d get onto my knees right now if I felt like my body would allow me to move and plead until my voice is hoarse.
I cry out as his tongue sweeps up the length of me, the heat of it burning my core, and I hate that my panties are still on, stopping me from feeling the full effect on my bare pussy. That is, until he pulls the cotton into his mouth and sucks, groaning as he tastes me.
“You’ve soaked through your panties,” he rasps. Lifting his head, he makes a show of licking his lips. It’s dirty and carnal and so fucking hot I can’t look away. “Were you thinking about my face between your legs? Eating you out until you come nice and hard?” I whimper, the memory of his stubble burning the inside of my thighs flooding my head. “Or was it my cock sinking inside you? Filling you up better than the pink dildo I bet you use when you’re thinking of me?”
“It’s purple,” I pant, my hips undulating at his words.
He hums in approval. “I wish I could see that, but I guess this will have to do…”
Finally, he drags my panties down, the cool air across my wetness making my skin prickle.
His name is a symphony falling from my lips as his tongue worships my pussy. It’s the only way to describe what he’s doing as he licks and sucks and fucks into me. I can’t keep my eyes open as pleasure overpowers me, stopping all signals to my brain as I just feel. He’s a master manipulator of my body, skillfully controlling it to his every whim, and I’m powerless to stop him.
My thighs try to close around his head, and his hands come to the inside of my legs, pushing them back onto the bed. He stops his ministrations, nipping my abductor with his teeth and making me gasp.
“Don’t try to suffocate me while I’m enjoying myself,” he says, licking over the spot where his teeth were. “I can’t make you come if I can’t breathe.” He looks up from between my legs and my stomach flips as we make eye contact, full body tingles erupting just from his gaze alone. “And I won’t do that until I’ve tasted all of you.”
I barely get a chance to flush with embarrassment before he’s back on me, except this time, his hands are buried under my ass, lifting so that my hips hover off the bed. He sucks my clit, sending bolts of ecstasy through my body before he moves lower, then lower still. I tense, my muscles stiffening as he swipes his tongue across somewhere that’s always been off limits.
A sensation like no other that has me feeling weightless as I push into him, wanting more. His tongue probes and swirls over my asshole as sweat prickles down my temple. He’s opened up a craving I didn’t know I had, always feeling kind of reserved about down there, but I’m mindless with arousal and lust and desire and…
“Holy fucking shit,” I gasp as his finger joins in. Not quite breaking through the ring of muscle, but creating enough pressure that I detonate. I can’t catch my breath, writhing wantonly against his face in a way I should be embarrassed about. It keeps coming, stronger and harder, with no signs of slowing down. It’s intense, the orgasm different from all my others, a pleasure unlike I’ve ever felt as synapses and nerve endings that used to be asleep, spark and dance like wildfire.
He leans up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug look of satisfaction on his face. I pant in a daze, my chest glistening under the hotel room lights, and I have the strong urge to smack the switch by the side of the bed, plunging us into darkness. Climbing up my body, he licks up my neck and sucks my ear between his teeth before nipping sharply. Electricity shoots to my toes and I blink, feeling exposed as he stares at me, his expression intense and unwavering as he pushes down his pants, his hard cock springing free and resting against his lower stomach.
“I don’t have a condom,” he says, his voice strained yet underlined with disappointment.
I lift a shaky hand and point to the bathroom. “Cabinet.” His eyes narrow. “All the athletes are given them. It’s sort of a running joke because everyone thinks we’re all horny as hell.”
As he shifts from the bed, my eyes track the muscles in his ass, the creamy skin that doesn’t have any ink, disappearing from sight. He comes back with the box of condoms in his hand and a triumphant grin on his face. Plucking one out, he rolls it down his shaft, slowly stroking himself as he stalks toward me.
Moving to the edge, I swing my legs over the side, ready to slide onto my knees, ready to let him use my mouth. But before they reach the carpet, his hands grab under my arms, spinning us around so he’s sitting on the mattress, feet planted on the floor, my legs either side of his, hovering above him.
“I thought you wanted me to suck your cock?” I ask breathily, a little disappointed.
He sticks his thumb in my mouth, swirling it over my tongue, his other hand fisting the base of his dick, running it teasingly through my center. “You will. But I’ve decided I need to feel that tight little cunt strangle me first.”
The ridge of his barbell brushes against my clit sending shock waves through me, and I wish I could feel what that’s like without protection.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks, lifting his hips slightly, the tiny metal ball notching at my entrance. “Ride me, brat.”
I narrow my eyes. “I think you like it when I’m a br—”
He pulls me down, his cock filling me, my sentence dying on a quiet gasp as I stretch around him. I’m so full, his cock hitting places in me that make my eyes roll, as he bottoms out and I sit flush on his lap.
“Who knew all that I needed to do to shut that sassy mouth of yours was to fill you up with my dick?”
“Fuck you,” I moan as he rocks my hips, slowly at first, allowing me time to adjust. My forehead lands on his shoulder, my fingers biting into his upper arms as I let him control me, using his hold to guide me into a rhythm that quickly has me breathless. “Why do you feel so good?”
Being on top like this is different from the first time we fucked, but both are graceless and primal as he pushes up into me, each thrust met with a grind of my hips, back and forth, seeking out what gives me the most pleasure.
Digging my knees into the bed, I lean up, pushing him down, his hands coming to my breasts, taking one in each.
“Who knew Wyatt Grant looked so good on his back?”
He growls, bucking off the bed, and I squeal, panting with each new sensation, my eyes fluttering closed as my head tips back. My thighs burn, sweat coating my body as I writhe on top of him, my hand finding his lower abs, helping me balance, while the other explores, reaching behind to play with his balls.
His sounds are erotic, the moaning and groaning in my hotel room only growing louder. Leaning slightly forward, I reach up, my back bowing as I drag my hands through my hair, the long strands winding in my fingers as I grind my clit against his pubic bone. Jolts of pure arousal fuel my movements, my hips rolling and circling as I ride him like he asked. All I’m missing is a cowboy hat to hold above my head.
“Fuck, Pippa,” Wyatt rasps, urging me on as he snakes his hands around my back, his fingers biting into my ass cheeks that it’s sure to bruise. “Take my cock, baby.”
It’s never been like this with anyone else before. It’s never been so raw and wild. My inhibitions and reservations about maintaining my mask are gone when I’m with him, and that scares me, especially when I look down, finding his hooded gaze on me.
He reaches up, clutching the back of my neck and drags me down, our mouths coming together in a violent clash of teeth and tongues. I can taste myself on his lips, something that should be gross, considering where he’d been moments ago, but it only heightens my arousal.
Wyatt’s all about stealth as he flips me over, somehow keeping us connected, and fucks me with a fervor like no other. He grabs my thigh, pushing it up until he’s got me in a split, my leg flat against my shoulder.
“Jesus fuck,” he growls. “Look at you.” His thumb finds my clit, rubbing it madly as he pumps harder. “I want you to come like this so bad, bent in two, taking my cock so well.”
“ Wyatt,” I whimper, my body trembling, knowing at any second I will if he continues his assault with his fingers.
“Squeeze me, Pippa. Squeeze this pretty cunt around my cock, milk me for everything you’ve got.”
There are no words, no sounds, as he pinches my clit between his thumb and forefinger, thrusting hard enough that I move up the bed. I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin, leaving marks I wish could be as permanent as his ink as I come with a choked scream, spasming around him, triggering his own orgasm.
His head buries into my neck, grunts and groans filling my ears. He releases my leg, my muscles aching as I lay it straight, hooking it around his waist at the last second, keeping him inside me. I can feel the periodic twitches of his cock as we breathe together, our bodies aligned, the feeling on his heart beating in his chest matching mine.
Wrapping my arms around him, I trail my fingers down his spine, feeling the way his muscles jump under my touch. He shivers, his breath puffing against my shoulder as I hold him, until faintly I hear, “I’m so fucked.”
My fingers still, just a fraction, not enough that he’d notice I’ve heard him. Because I did, and the thing is… I’m fucked, too.