Chapter 3
Chapter Three
WREN
F or a second, I think he’s going to push me away.
But then it’s like a dam bursts inside of him and all the built-up pressure comes rushing out. He kisses me hard and deep, his tongue stroking against mine with a heat that takes my breath away as he strips off his coat and then whips mine off my shoulders and onto the floor.
A beat later his hands are at my waist, lifting me up into the air. I wrap my legs around his hips, moaning as I feel how hard he already is behind his fly. He slams the door shut behind him and moves just far enough inside to pin me against the wall beside my entry table, his hands roaming over my body in a way that makes me feel like I’ve been struck by lightning.
Sexy, delicious, incredible lightning…
I drag in a breath to urge him toward the bedroom, but then I’m suddenly back on my feet and he’s shoving my short skirt up around my waist as he drags my panties to the carpet.
Before I can say “well that escalated quickly” or come to terms with the fact that the man I’ve crushed on for over half my life—the one I was certain would never notice me as anything but his loyal nurse—is on his knees for me, Barrett’s tongue is gliding over my clit.
And holy hell is he good at this.
Almost too good.
I’m at the edge in seconds, my hands flying to his hair as I gasp, “Oh my God, Barrett. Oh my God.”
“So good, you taste so fucking good,” he murmurs as he teases me, tastes me. He’s soft, gentle at first, ramping up my longing, making me arch forward, desperate for a deeper connection with his mouth. He takes the hint and increases the pressure, sucking and nibbling on my clit, driving me wild.
I drive my fingers through his thick hair, pulling him even closer, shamelessly grinding into his mouth as I lean back against the wall, my shoulders digging into the hard plaster. It hurts a little, but I like it. The hint of pain assures me this isn’t another Barrett sex dream. This is the real deal. Barrett is really squeezing my hips and devouring my pussy. My lifetime crush is actually rumbling pissed-off sounding things about how fucking delicious I am and how no woman should taste this good before driving his tongue deep inside me and I am…in heaven.
“Better than heaven, so much better,” I babble as the room starts to spin and my nipples tighten into aching points beneath my shirt.
He groans in seeming agreement against my slick flesh and that final tickle of vibration is enough to set me off. I shudder against his mouth, coming with a stream of words I can’t understand.
I’m beyond language, beyond thought, beyond anything but hunger and bliss and the determination not to let Barrett’s body out of my reach ever again.
“More. You,” I pant against his lips as he surges to his feet, kissing me hard. I taste my own tang and salt on his tongue, making me even more eager to have him inside me. “I’m on the pill and no STIs. No condom. I hate them.” I fumble with the close of his jeans as he gives the top of my shirt a sharp tug.
My breasts spill out of the top and he falls on them like a starving man. “Are you sure? I’m STI free but I have a condom in my wallet.”
“No, no condom,” I say, biting my lip as he licks and sucks my nipples, making me squirm against the wall. “I want your skin. I want you bare inside me. Condoms make everything dry and bad.”
And if we’re only going to do this once, I don’t want it to be dry or bad or to have anything between Barrett and me except skin and heat.
“I don’t think lubrication is going to be a problem,” he murmurs against my breast as his fingers glide into where I’m still swollen from the first time that he made me come. He curses in a deep rumble that intensifies the ache between my hips. “You’re so wet. Fuck, Wren.”
“Yes, please. I’m so ready for you. Inside. Please,” I say, whimpering as he nibbles at my sensitive nipple again, making the hunger for him almost painful. I fumble for the close of his pants a second time, but he’s already unbuckling and shoving both his pants and boxers down around his hips.
I find his erection and exhale a carnal sigh of anticipation, appreciation. He’s long and thick and burning with need for me. He feels almost feverish, but I know I can make it all better.
I guide him between my legs, positioning the thick head of his cock at my entrance and holding it there as he lifts me into the air again. And then I’m pinned against the wall by more than his weight. He glides into me, stretching me enough to make me gasp.
It’s so good, so much better than it’s ever been with anyone else, and we’re one thrust in. By the time we’re finished, he’s going to own me—body and soul—even more than he does already.
“Okay?” he asks, pausing as he reaches the end of me, his equally feverish balls tight against my ass.
“Yes,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and resting my forehead against his. “It’s just been so long. I almost forgot what it felt like. I forgot it was this good.”
“It’s never this good,” he says, making my heart flip in my chest. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever felt.” He pulls back and glides back in, summoning a groan from both our throats. He kisses me, smiling a little as he whispers against my lips, “You have to stop that or I’m going to come before I make you come again.”
“Stop what?” I ask, moaning as he circles his hips, grinding against my clit with his cock still buried deep inside me.
“Making noises,” he pants, beginning to move faster, stroking in and out of me with a slow, but demanding rhythm that makes my thighs tremble. “They’re too much. Too sexy.”
Bringing my lips to hover beside his ear, I ask, “Should I tell you that I love your cock instead? And that I can’t wait to feel you come inside me?”
His jaw clenches and his fingers dig deeper into the soft flesh of my hips as he rides me harder, faster.
A second orgasm already curling in my belly, about to unleash its sweet fury, I add in a husky whisper, “Should I tell you that I’m not going to shower until tomorrow because I want to feel your come slipping out of me, making my panties wet all morning?”
He curses and pumps harder, reaching up to squeeze my breast with one hand as he says, “Say another word and I’m going to have to do something about that mouth.”
“Like what?” I ask, gasping as he pushes his fingers forcefully into my mouth and down my throat.
I groan and suck at his fingers, the second invasion enough to make me unravel all over again. I come moaning and writhing against his increasingly wild thrusts, doing my best not to bite his knuckles as the orgasm tears and twists and shreds at things inside me. It’s so intense it’s almost painful. The pleasure is so pure, so sweet, so exactly what I’ve craved from this man for so long.
But my fantasies are nothing compared to the reality of how insanely hot Barrett is as he sets me on my feet, spins me toward the wall, and reenters me from behind. Now his hands are on both of my breasts, squeezing and rubbing my nipples as he takes me hard. His breath is hot on my neck as he says, “One more time. One more, baby. Come on my cock one more time before I lose it. Fuck, Wren, I’m so close. I’m going to make a huge mess.”
It’s such a Barrett thing to say that it makes me smile and tease, “Oh, no. Not a big, hot come mess inside me. Whatever will I do?”
“Wicked,” he says, one hand dropping between my legs. He curls his fingers over my clit, holding tight as he continues to slam into me from behind. “You’re not a sweet little nurse. You’re a wicked woman who’s about to be so full of come she’ll think twice before she spreads her legs for me again.”
“Never. Oh God, Barrett. Oh my God, yes!” I cry out his name, again and again, my soul shaking this time as a third orgasm rampages through me.
Barrett shoves forward with a final groan and proves he’s a man of his word, coming and coming until the evidence of how good we are together runs down my thigh. Afterwards, we lean against the wall, panting and I instantly decide that the sound of our labored, post bliss breath is one of the best things I’ve ever heard.
But as another hot stream slithers down my thigh, I have to admit that he was right about the mess.
Turning to smile at him over my shoulder, I whisper, “I’m going to pop into the bathroom to clean up. I’ll bring you a damp washcloth.”
“All right,” Barrett says, pulling out and stepping back.
I lean into him, pressing a kiss to the small amount of skin visible at the top of his shirt. “Next time this is coming off,” I whisper. “Everything is coming off.”
And then I practically dance down the hallway to the bathroom, already anticipating how nice it will be to take our hallway intensity to the comfort of my big queen bed.
This night may have started out as a disaster, but it’s going to have a happy ending.
Multiple happy endings, in fact. For the both of us.