Prologue Bonus Content
WYATT
If you had told me this morning that I’d have Whitney Adler pinned against a brick wall, moaning and whimpering with each touch of my lips on her skin—I’d say you were insane. I would have laughed in your face and went on with my day.
But alas, here I am.
And fuck me, I think I’ll die if she stops kissing me.
I’ve never been obsessed with someone. Not like this.
I feel like a teenager again, chasing a high I can’t fully grasp.
After just a few hours with her, I want every detail.
I want to find everyone who’s ever put tears in her eyes and weight on her shoulders and make them disappear. I want her to tell me more, share more.
I knew her—God, of course, I knew her. She ran around with Wesley and Blake when we were kids. I’ve always thought she was gorgeous. Gorgeous in a way that you only admire from afar. She’s younger than me, and being Blake’s only friend, completely off limits.
I just didn’t expect to actually enjoy her company.
It’s ridiculous. Delusional. So far out of reach I’m tempted to peek around the corner and see if I’m being punked.
I’ve been with plenty of women. One-night stands were simple—always a mutual transaction and something to pass the time.
Because dating isn’t in the cards for me.
I don’t like to date. But something tells me Whitney will have me begging on my knees by the end of this.
There are so, so many ways this could go wrong. So many reasons we shouldn’t be kissing in an alleyway after dark. We’ve had a fair share of alcohol, but we also stopped drinking hours ago. On top of that? The woman just got out of a relationship.
But how the hell am I supposed to stop when she whispers my name like that? “Fuck,” I mutter, “Say that again.”
“Wyatt,” Whitney repeats against my lips. My palm slams against the wall beside her head as the other comes to cup the thigh that’s just wrapped around my waist. “My apartment.”
I pause, pulling away far enough to glance over her features but staying close enough that my breath mingles with her. I swallow, searching her eyes for any hesitation or doubt, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Don’t have to tell me twice. I slam my lips against hers again.
We’re a slow blur of tangled limbs and half-hearted directions to her apartment.
By the time we make it inside, a trail of clothes follows us into her upstairs bedroom.
My knees hit the end of the bed, sending us careening for the small mattress below.
Her hips are between my legs, my hand is beneath her head, but before we can get lost in the sheets—I pull away.
I step back from the bed. I’m not really sure why. Maybe I needed a second to breathe, or maybe I just needed to take her in before ruining her for any other man.
I watch her as she watches me. We both track each other’s movements, waiting to see who will make the first move.
It’s quiet, and the air is tense with lust and desire.
Whitney’s eyes near leave mine as a small smirk curls the edge of her mouth.
She pushes up on her elbow and reaches behind her back.
My breath catches in anticipation before the black bra falls away.
Not only does she look like a young Marilyn Monroe, but she has the body of a porn star.
Her chest is full, but perky, and from just one glance I know they’ll barely fit in the palm of my hand.
The urge to pull one of her rose-colored nipples into my mouth is overpowering.
As I continue to take in every curve and dip on full display I groan, “It’s like you were custom made just for me. ”
The black hair, flawless skin, the slim nose—Jesus, even that little freckle on the corner of her mouth…
It’s true. I’d be able to touch her with my eyes closed after tonight. There’s no chance I’d forget the way her hips dip, or the way her eyes flutter when I touch her.
I just can’t tell if she’ll be my heaven or hell.
Whitney groans, head tipping back towards the ceiling. “Stop talking.”
If it weren’t for the blush that crawls up her neck and onto her pretty face, I’d think she meant it.
Either way—I don’t care. I’m gonna make her scream my name until we’re both sick of it.
I reach forward and wrap my hand around her slim ankle, eliciting a surprised yelp from her when I tug her towards the end of the bed.
When her eyes drop to my lips, every thought ebbs away and I nearly forget all about my new mission. “Happy to,” I manage to grit out.
Her eyes narrow, “That’s still- Oh!”
She’s cut off when I yank again. When her hips are within reaching distance, I flip her onto her stomach. The way she immediately arches for me sends a thrill of satisfaction up my spine. Her round ass is on full display, her barely-there thong is enough to drive me crazy.
“This,” I say, slipping my index finger between the hot pink fabric and her bare skin, “is ridiculous.” I slowly, so very slowly trail my finger down, stopping just before her entrance.
I hook my finger, and tug, pulling the thing away from her skin and letting it land back in place with a light smack.
Whitney growls, shoving her face into the pillow in irritation.
I huff a laugh, choosing to put us both out of our misery.
When I peel back the panties fully, and slip them off one leg and then the other—all resolve crumbles just as quickly as my knees do.
Perfect pink lips spill out from between her thick thighs, and she’s practically dripping when I’ve barely touched her. I tell her as much. “You’re dripping onto the sheets, Whitney. That all for me?”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she stutters, unable to concentrate with my hot breath fanning across her bare pussy.
She wiggles her hips in impatience, so I do us both a favor and lick a tantalizingly slow strip from her entrance to her clit.
She tastes just as good as she smells. Like vanilla and cherries and something else so fucking addicting it’s guaranteed to be engraved in my memory until the day I die.
Whitney’s like a drug, and I have no desire to stop until we’re both shaking from the high.
The desperate whine that rips from her throat is all it takes for me to grab her hips and flip her back around.
I need to see her face. Need to know exactly what she likes and where she likes it.
My mouth is back on her in a second. She gasps, and I groan in approval when her fingers thread through my hair and tug, pulling me closer to her cunt. Like she’s saying more, more, more.
And I give it to her. I bite. Nip. Lick.
Suck. Over and over again until she’s begging for it, crying for it.
Only when she’s practically riding my face and chasing her own release do I add a finger.
And then another. The way she grips me is intoxicating, and it doesn’t take long for her to cry out, “I need you inside of me. Now.”
That’s the only reason I stop devouring her—the desperate way she says it is impossible to ignore.
When I pull away from between her thighs and stand to my full height, she’s already meeting me at the end of the bed.
On her knees and so fucking eager. She tugs at the waistband of my boxers, glancing up at me briefly as if asking permission.
I almost laugh, because if she didn’t take them off soon, I’d finish before I even got out of them. “You want it? Take it out, then.”
She swallows, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth as she finally tugs the black fabric away. The fact that she immediately listened shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. “Holy shit,” Whitney curses, looking up at me from lowered eyelashes as I spring free, “Are you even real?”
My brow rises in amusement. I’m not humble enough to play down my size.
I’m larger than the average. And it isn’t cocky, it’s just true.
Comes with the height territory and all that.
But Whitney’s reaction is so much better than I could have imagined.
She doesn’t touch me, though. Instead she trails her manicured nails up my stomach, up my chest, and around the back of my neck.
My head involuntarily dips to meet her lips.
She tugs, and we both crawl back into the bed.
I curse when she grabs my cock, lining me up with her pussy. “Condom?”
“I’m on the pill,” Whitney blurts back.
I nod. “And I’m as clean as a whistle.”
“Whistles aren’t really that clea-”
She doesn’t get to finish her smartass remark. Instead, she cries out as I thrust into her in one, long fell swoop. I nearly topple forward but catch myself beside her head. The sheer fucking tightness of her sucks the air from my lungs. She’s wrapped around my dick like she was made for me.
I pull back out slowly, giving her time to adjust. It takes a few strokes before she’s less focused on the stretch and more focused on the pleasure.
We both glance down to watch as she stretches around me.
The way we look when I pull back slowly, and slam back into her.
She’s so wet that I slip in and out with ease, and the sight of my cock glistening with her wetness makes both of us moan in unison.
My hand falls to her stomach and my fingers splay. “Feel that baby?” I ask, running a thumb right underneath her belly button, where my cock drives into her. “I’m going to fill you so much that you’ll be dripping for days.”
I tear my eyes away from her stomach and where our bodies meet to meet her gaze.
She’s already watching me, mouth parted and cheeks red.
“Kiss me,” she says, so quietly I almost don’t hear her.
But I did, and I do. Our lips stay locked, battling for dominance and an equal amount of need while we rush towards our climax.
When she has to pull away and tuck her head between my collar and jaw—and only when she clenches down on me while she cries out—do I join her.
A lick of heat shoots through my spine, and I keep my promise of filling her.
White, hot, and dripping out and around us.
When I finally pull out of her, and find a rag to clean our mess up, we opt for cuddling.
To say I was shocked when she wrapped her arms around my middle and laid her head on my chest would be an understatement. She sighs against me, “That was…”
“Insanely good?” I huff a laugh, asking as I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
Whitney hums, the sound vibrating against my chest as she snuggles in closer. “That’s putting it lightly.”
We fall into a comfortable silence, and after a while I start to wonder if she’s fallen asleep. I glance at the clock she has sitting beside her bed, seeing it’s 2 a.m. Before I can open my mouth and check, she’s whispering against my neck, “Wanna go again?”
Whitney squeals when I flip her onto her back for another round.