Chapter 23 Wes #2
Isla grips each side of my head, pulling me up until our mouths crash together again.
The kiss is unhinged, like we’re trying to climb into each other’s bodies, a chaotic collision of every part of us—mouths, bodies, tongues, hearts.
She pulls at my shirt, shoving it up to run her hands along my abdomen, each stroke ratcheting my desire until it’s off the charts.
I disentangle our mouths. “Ready for me, Red?”
“Yes,” she gasps as my fingers stroke between her legs. “Do you need protection?”
“I have condoms.”
“Glad you’re prepared, Taz, but that’s not what I’m asking.” She gives me a snide little smile, which slides off her face as soon as my fingers pick up the pace. “I—can’t…think when you do that.”
“If you’re asking if you need protection from me, you don’t. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, Isla. But you call the shots.”
“I’m on birth control,” she says. “And I was tested before I moved back.”
“You’ve been with no one since?”
She slowly shakes her head. “Only you.”
“Fuck me,” I groan, loving the surety that she’s as fixated on me as I am on her.
My arms wrap around her body, lifting her off me and placing her flat on the empty stretch of blanket.
I’m never going to look at this truck without imagining Isla laid bare to me—legs parted, lip bitten, eyes molten as she watches me strip out of my clothes.
She swallows hard when my boxers slide down my legs, and my cock springs free.
I drop to my knees in front of her, but she snaps her legs shut. “That’s not what I want.”
“No?” I pump my dick twice, slowly running my hand down my shaft as she watches, rapt.
“Come here,” she murmurs, curling her finger and motioning to herself. I cover her body with mine, propping an elbow beside her head, tucking hair behind her ear with my other hand.
“Stop making me wait, Wes,” she whispers.
She brings her mouth to mine, but her lips don’t linger long, pulling back to watch my cock line up to her entrance.
I ease inside her slowly, deliberately, wanting to savor this first time.
There’s nothing fucking hotter than watching myself disappear inside her—at least not until I tear my gaze away to look at her face.
A pang reverberates through my chest, a deep ache for her, even though we’re joined, closer than close.
What is she doing to me?
She nibbles on her bottom lip, letting out breathy gasps, adjusting to my size as I seat myself to the hilt.
I bite the inside of my mouth to distract from how unfuckingbelievable she feels around my cock, pressed against my body, imprinted on my mind.
My knuckles slide across her rosy cheeks, while I stare into the depths of those ocean blue eyes, searching for a sign that she’s feeling what I am.
“You okay?”
“Perfect.” She winds her arms around me, tugging until she bears my weight. “Now, please move.”
I kiss her, my tongue stroking hers in time with each punishing thrust. Her heart pounds, or maybe it’s mine; we’re so close that I’m losing track of where I end and she begins.
I drive into her with everything I have, pulling out of her and slamming back in.
Pressure builds at the base of my spine, and all I can do is chase its release, lost to Isla and the way she’s set every single nerve ending in my body ablaze.
She wraps her legs around me, changing the angle that my cock hits inside her. “Yes, there,” she moans, as we find a rhythm until we’re a seamless give-and-take. “You feel so fucking good.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders. I fixate on that pinch of pain, to avoid losing control. I close my eyes, unable to take the unreal sight of Isla’s sweat-soaked hair matted to her face as she unravels beneath me.
I press kisses along her neck, lingering on the sensitive spot at the base. Her legs quake, tightening around my waist as her moans ratchet higher.
“Wes,” she whimpers beside my ear. “I want you to come with me.”
“Bite my lip when you’re ready.” I kiss my way to her mouth, capturing her lips in mine again.
I pump against her faster, our movements rushed and chaotic.
Isla’s teeth sink into my bottom lip, as she fastens her body against mine, holding me while she shakes.
I’m seconds behind her, slamming into her one last time before coming with a grunt of her name.
Colors flash behind my eyes as the agonizing tension gathered in every muscle finally breaks, leaving a wave of warmth flowing through me in its wake.
“Fuck, Isla.” I collapse against her, sapped of every ounce of energy. My head rests against her chest, listening to her heart beat rapidly like the bang of a drum.
Her chest rapidly rises and falls. “We’re good at that,” she says through a labored laugh.
The aftershocks of her orgasm pulse against my dick, a zing of pleasure every few seconds. Isla’s hand runs through my hair, nails lightly grazing my scalp. I can’t remember the last time I felt this at ease with another person, content to lie here all day basking in their presence.
I’m afraid to name this feeling, to admit to myself exactly how important this woman is to me. The acknowledgment means I can lose her before I even truly have her, and the thought is too devastating to consider.
I ease her off me, then roll to the side, bringing her with me until she’s settled against my chest. Our hands meet over my heart, fingers threading together, neither of us wanting to separate.
Or at least I hope that she’s thinking the same as me, that this is the beginning of a lifetime of moments like this.
“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” she whispers.
“Like what?”
“This…closeness. Like, I didn’t want you to stop being inside of me. I don’t want this moment to end.” She wedges her face into my side, eyes snapped shut, as she groans. “God, this is so embarrassing. I sound like a stage-five clinger. I swear I’m not usually like this.”
The words are an electric jolt to my heart, a spark that’s waking something up in me that’s been dead for a long time.
“No?”
“Ignore me,” she mumbles, still hiding her face. “It’s the sex chemicals. Shit, I’m making this worse.”
“Hey.” I lean over and press a kiss to her forehead. “Look at me, Red.”
She tentatively looks up, eyes wary.
“I want you in me, on me, around me. So cling to me, Isla, but be prepared that I might not let go.”
Her head pops off my chest. “So you’re saying you’re also a stage-five clinger.”
My lips break into a smile. “Yes.”
“Damn, that’s so embarrassing for you.”
“You are such a brat,” I say, my fingers squeezing her side, tickling her skin until she breaks into laughter, pushing my hands away. “You’re going to regret that, Covington.”
I hoist her over my shoulder as she squeals for me to let her down. I hop down off the truck bed and walk us toward the lake and into and then under the water. Isla squirms out of my grip and emerges a few feet in front of me. I shake my head, sending water spraying once I break the surface.
I’ll never forget this moment, the sun illuminating her strawberry-blond hair into gold and the radiant, blinding smile of happiness gracing her face.
She’s rearranging my damn brain chemistry with every passing second we’re together, and I’m afraid I can’t let her go, let her walk away from my life and leach every bit of happiness that she’s brought into it.
I’m going to show her why we’re the perfect match. That I can be the man she can rely on, if she gives me the chance.