Chapter 11 #2
He sits up and caresses my jaw. "You're gorgeous. And this is the best present I've ever gotten, and there will never be anything that comes close to it."
I beam. "I'm glad you like it."
"Oh, I do," he states adamantly.
I laugh, and more of my nerves disappear.
He picks up my hand and wraps my fingers around his erection. His voice returns to a low croon. "Now, tell me again how badly you want me to be your first so I can take what I've been dying to claim."
I circle my thumb on the tip of his cock and declare, "Please take my virginity, Wyatt."
He lightly pinches my tit and grits through his teeth, "Tell me you need it, sugar."
"I need it. So badly," I add, squeezing my thighs together.
"That's my girl," he praises, then reaches for my hips. And in a swift move, he flips so he's on his back and I'm over him.
I gasp.
His hand grips my head, and his tongue slides against mine.
I flick deeper into his mouth, weaving my fingers between his thick locks.
His hand palms my ass.
I widen my legs, and he murmurs against my lips, "I'm in charge, sugar."
I freeze. My insides burst with light. He always has to say it when we have intimate time, and it always makes me feel high.
He grips my hips, pulls my lower body toward his face, and demands, "You better ride my face and show me how much you love me."
I giggle, then gasp when he sucks hard on my clit. I have to grab the old iron headboard to steady myself.
"I'm not playing, Willow," he warns, then repositions his hands on my hips and moves my lower body over his face, licking and sucking my pussy.
"Yes," he says on a groan as I take over, grinding over him just as he's taught me.
I never had anyone touch me before him, but it only took a month before Wyatt gave me my first orgasm. Since then, he's given me too many to count, all over the ranch in our secret spots.
He squeezes my ass, and slides his large finger inside me, sucking and flicking harder.
"Oh!" I whisper. My thighs quiver, and sweat pops out on my skin. I whimper louder and close my eyes, humming from adrenaline oozing in my cells.
Wyatt's tongue lashes against me. Wicked. Wild. Unforgiving.
My knees give out, and white light bursts behind my eyelids. I cry out, "Wyatt!"
He groans, gripping me harder and not letting up.
"Wyatt! Please!" I beg, so high I'm dizzy.
He doesn't release me, only sucks me with more force.
An orgasm like I've never felt before hits me. It shatters me to pieces, and I grip the headboard harder, unsure what's flying out of my mouth as I surrender to the adrenaline.
When the endorphins calm, Wyatt flips me onto my back, grinning like he always does, and slips his orgasm-covered tongue into my mouth.
Barely breathing, I hungrily kiss him back, loving every second of our bodies wrapped around each other.
"I need you, sugar," he claims in a rumbling, low tone.
"Yes," I breathe out, ready for everything I've fantasized about doing with him.
He slides to the side of the bed, pulling me with him and positioning me so I'm straddling his hips. His fingers lace into the hair on the back of my head, and the tip of his cock teases my pussy. He holds my hip so I can't push down.
I kiss him, but he retreats an inch from my mouth.
He demands, "Tell me to ruin your innocence and make you mine."
My core is throbbing, and my voice cracks when I say, "Ruin me. Make me yours."
A deep darkness floods his expression, sending a chill down my spine. He leans into my ear and murmurs, "There's only one man you're ever going to need, and it's me." He pushes me over him, entering me.
A stinging sensation engulfs my pussy, causing my eyes to water. I gasp out his name, but it's barely audible.
He strokes my head and locks eyes with me. "Don't tease me, sugar. I need all of you."
I blink hard as the stinging lessens.
There's more?
Panic tries to overtake me.
He sternly commands, "Relax, or I'll never fit."
"I am," I claim.
He chuckles. "You're as relaxed as Snarlhide the minute the gate flies open."
My lips twitch.
"There's my girl." He deeply kisses me and then mutters, "That's it. Just kiss me."
I obey, getting lost in everything Wyatt and all the feelings he evokes whenever he kisses me like I'm his everything.
He pushes deeper into me, and it's easier to take him, with less stinging.
We kiss for a long time, and I've never felt so filled, but my veins buzz with intense, loving energy. The stinging evaporates completely, and it's just Wyatt and me.
He eventually retreats, holding my head firmly, and announces, "I knew you were sweet, sugar, but, damn, you're filthy sweet."
My body pulses around the stretch of him, slick and aching. I arch my eyebrows, breathing hard, questioning if that's good or bad.
He grunts, relaying, "Grind those hips on me, and drive me a little crazier, darlin'."
I take a deep breath.
He holds my hips tighter, shifting me on top of him until I bury my face in his neck and declare, "This feels so good."
"That's an understatement, sweetheart."
The biggest wave of courage yet floods through me. My voice thick and laced with heat, I whisper, "Then don't breathe." I drag my mouth along his jaw, then add, "Because I'm not done with you yet."
His eyes flare. His guttural groan echoes around us and vibrates in his chest.
Somehow, I take him again, only deeper and harder.
He curses beneath me like he's already gone feral. "Shit. Are you trying to make me come begging, sugar?"
I smile as we kiss, shifting my hips faster.
He digs his fingertips into my ass. "Shit, baby. Ride me like I'm your bull. Show me who I belong to."
The words "You're mine" fly out of me, and a quiver runs through my core.
"Always." He grunts, meeting my gaze, then flips me to my back. "Fuckin' hell, Willow. You're wetter than a summer storm, and trying to make me come too soon," he accuses, then thrusts hard into me.
"Oh! Wyatt!" I scream, unprepared for the sheer force and unfamiliar sensation so deep in my body.
"My wet, sexy virgin's trying to take over the reins. But you're my bull to break, sugar. And we've done it sweet, so now it's time to show you who's boss," he declares, quickening his thrusts.
"Wy—" I blink fast, trying to keep focus.
He doesn't show me any mercy. He leans into my ear, breaths hot against my skin. "You're all sweet on the outside, but you aren't fooling me. I know you want to ride me rough. Don't you?" he taunts.
I reach for his butt and tug his cheek, lifting my hips to meet his thrust. "Yes!"
"Say please," he orders.
"Please!" I beg, adrenaline attacking me.
"Tell me to break you," he demands, his face beet red, his teeth gritted.
"Break me," I plead, my voice hoarse.
"Hold on, sugar," he warns, then thrusts so hard and fast inside me that it feels like he pushed through my stomach and into my throat.
I can't think or speak. For a brief moment it's painful, then a volcano of endorphins erupts, taking me so high, it's like an out-of-body experience.
I grip him tighter to me, turning into a rag doll under him, trembling as fiercely as an earthquake and unable to see anything but the blur of the Christmas lights.
I barely hear him shout, "That's it, sugar. Take it. Take all of it." He thrusts again, then grunts and grits out, "Don't stop. Don't you dare stop. Your fucking tight little body was made just for me. I'm right there!"
"Wyatt!" I breathe, drowning in my high.
He kisses me, stealing all the air I have left, then groans. He bellows, "Shit! I'm coming, baby. I can't stop it." His cock stretches me further, and I gasp.
Each thrust is wicked. They're hard, fast, and claim every inch of my body. And then he pumps fire inside me, like a hydrant out of control. He growls, "Jesus, Willow!" and buries his face into the curve of my neck.
Several minutes pass full of short, hot breaths, beating hearts, and tangled limbs.
He kisses my throat, makes his way to my jaw, then slides his tongue into my mouth.
I drown all over again, exhausted but happy.
He finally retreats and brushes the hair off my forehead. In a serious tone, he states, "My Christmas gift is never going to compete with yours."
I smile, then I laugh, and he laughs too. We stay in the cabin for several hours, kissing, cuddling, and enjoying every moment.
When we leave to return to the main house, one thing is even more clear.
Wyatt Houston was meant to be mine.
Now and forever.