Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
VERITY
Ican’t hear what Warrick is saying to the clerk behind the desk.
But I don’t really care, because my focus is on the ID card I’m clutching between my fingers.
I’ve never had a proper ID before. I don’t have a driver’s license or a passport.
Hell, the only official thing I’ve ever had with my name on it is a bill.
But this is real and official and mine. It’s not actually important. Nothing about this card changes anything, but it feels important to me.
“Amore mio?” Warrick says, calling my attention.
“Yeah,” I say, reluctantly looking away from the stupid, but epic card.
“Are you ready to go home?”
“Yes.” He reaches toward me, and for a heart-racing moment, I panic, thinking he’s asking to take my ID, but then I see his outstretched hand. Exhaling, I do what I’ve done every other time he’s held his hand out to me. I place mine in it.
The moment his warm, rough fingers curl around mine, I feel my heart rate drop.
I don’t understand it, but Warrick calms me.
This man that I barely know makes me feel safe, and although I don’t understand it, for the first time since we met, I don’t question it.
Instead, I allow him to pull me to my feet, then I walk into his huge body and rest my cheek against his chest.
Like he knows exactly what I need without me having to say a word, his arms wrap around me, and he hugs me like we’re alone. Surrounded by him, I close my eyes and breathe in his clean, soapy scent, allowing myself a moment to just enjoy the protection he offers.
“Let’s go home, amore mio,” he whispers into the top of my head, pressing a kiss to my hair.
“Okay,” I agree, reluctantly pulling back.
He allows me to put distance between us, but instead of leading me to the car, he cups my cheek with his pawlike palm, then kisses me until every ounce of calm has dissolved and been replaced with clawing, desperate need.
“I love you, Verity,” he growls, before he turns and marches away, my fingers still clutched tightly in his.
The drive back up the mountain is tense and tension-filled, but it’s not fear or anxiety that’s coursing through my veins. It’s anticipation, need, and gnawing want that makes my clothes feel tight, my breathing shallow, and my panties wet.
After twenty years of icy disinterest in sex, I’ve officially thawed. Warrick sparked a flame inside of me that apparently isn’t going out, because I want him. My body is on fire, and he’s the only one who can tame it.
I can feel his gaze on me as the temperature rises in the car. His palm is gripping my knee, but he doesn’t move it higher, even though we both know I wouldn’t stop him.
“All of your firsts are mine now, amore mio. Tell me which was your favorite, so I know how you want to be fucked,” he rasps, his voice so low and rough the sound of it vibrates through my clit.
What the hell do I even say to that? I don’t know what I want.
I’ve had real sex once, anal sex once, and sucked his dick twice.
I’m hardly experienced in this. Jesus, the word virgin that’s been tattooed across my forehead for years is practically still visible.
So what do I say? Do I tell him that he made the pain delicious?
Do I tell him that I don’t care how he wants to fuck me, because I’m still clueless about everything but the knowledge that he’ll make me feel good?
“Your panties are soaked, aren’t they? I can smell your need, amore mio. It’s my favorite scent in the world.”
Heat blooms in my cheek because my panties are wet, but I’m not sure if him being able to smell the way he affects my body is a good thing or not. Parting my lips, I try to speak, but no words come out.
“Can you tell me what you want, or should I tell you what you need?” he questions when I don’t say anything.
“How do you know what I need if I don’t?” I rasp.
“Because I can read your body, amore mio. I understand the way you move, the changes in your breathing.”
“What do I need?” I ask breathlessly.
“You need me to carry you up to our bed, strip you naked, then lick your clit until your cunt is gushing with arousal. Then you need me to drive my cock into you and tell you how much I love you while I use your body like it’s mine, because it is.”
The possession and claims of ownership should terrify me. I ran from BJ’s because he saw me as property and wanted to sell as he saw fit. But no matter how many dirty ways Warrick wants to fuck me, no matter how many times he calls me his, I know right down to my core that he would never hurt me.
I don’t realize that we’re home until my car door opens and Warrick leans in and unfastens my seat belt. His huge arms slip beneath me as he lifts me from the seat and carries me bridal style into the house.
Running up the stairs, like I’m weightless in his arms, Warrick lowers me to my feet at the end of the bed, then strips my clothes off, my thin dress arcing through the air as he dismisses it and focuses on my bra and soaking wet panties.
Discarding my bra, he drops to his haunches and buries his nose into the wet fabric that clings to my folds. Inhaling deeply, he growls, “Fuck, Verity, you smell so fucking good.” His words literally vibrate through me until my legs feel weak. “I love you, so fucking much.”
The voice inside my head whispers back, “I love you too.” but I can’t say those words out loud.
I’ve never loved anyone. I never believed in love until I met Warrick.
His certainty is addictive, but it’s been less than a week.
People don’t fall in love that fast. This is lust or desire or infatuation, but it’s not love… it can’t be.
“Warrick,” I whine, not sure what I’m asking for.
“Do you need me to take care of you?” he asks, looking up at me from the floor, his hands palming my thighs.
I nod. It’s all I can manage, but it’s all he needs.
“Okay, amore mio. I know what you need.”
His fingers slip into the sagging elastic waist of my cheap panties.
The cotton is so thin I’m amazed they’re still in one piece, but instead of ripping them off, he carefully slides them down my legs, treating my threadbare panties with reverence, and not like they’re ready for the trash, even though they are.
“Spread your legs,” he orders, his tone firm, but voice achingly soft.
Shuffling my feet apart, I wait for the fear or panic to hit, but all I feel is need.
“Fuck,” he whispers, sliding his finger up the inside of my thigh. “You’re already dripping for me, and I haven’t touched you yet.”
Not stopping, his fingers travel up until they find my entrance. “So wet,” he breathes as he pushes two fingers into my body, parting my folds before his tongue finds my clit.
Pleasure bursts to life inside of me at the first swipe of his tongue, and as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of me, my knees go weak, and a long, desperate moan slips from my lips.
His tongue is hot and laser-focused on the tiny bundle of nerves that seems to be connected to my sense of equilibrium, because the faster his licks become, the more boneless I feel.
It feels like he’s perfectly in tune with my body, because just as my legs give way, he lifts me off the floor and positions me on my back on the bed.
Spreading my legs wide, he feasts on my sex like it’s his favorite meal, until our room is filled with the sounds of my desperate whines and moans, intermingled with the wet-sounding proof of my arousal.
“Do you need to come?” he asks, his fingers stilling as he slips his fingers from my pussy and uses my own arousal to lubricate my ass.
“Warrick,” I pant.
“Oh, you need to come so badly, don’t you? Don’t worry, amore mio, I’ll take care of you. I’m going to make you come so hard you scream.”
Slowly inching a finger into my ass, he pushes two into my pussy, then lowers his head to my clit again, and I see stars.
This time his fingers move in unison, slipping almost all the way out of my body, only to fill me again all over again.
Stroking the sensitive nerve endings in my pussy and ass both at the same time, his talented tongue licks and flicks, while his lips suck, swallowing my desire as the room fills with the sounds of my need.
Higher and higher, he pushes my body until every one of my muscles are wound so tightly that it hurts.
Then it doesn’t. The pressure inside of me snaps, and I come so hard my sight goes black and my ears ring, as a strangled scream bursts from my lips and my body contorts, tightening, then releasing as I orgasm and orgasm and orgasm.
Ripping his fingers from inside me, Warrick strips his clothes and slams into my body so hard that he pushes me up the mattress.
My eyesight returns in a rush as his hand curls around the back of my neck, holding me in place while his other hand lifts my thigh, spreading my legs wider and giving him more room to move.
There’s no pain this time as he thrusts into me, filling then withdrawing, the head of his dick dragging over the sensitive nerves inside of me over and over again.
Needing to be closer to him, I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down until my nipples are scraping over his chest, and I can taste the air that pools between us.
“I love you,” he rumbles, his thick, hard dick slamming into me as he claims my lips and kisses me like he just can’t not.
The words form on my lips, but I don’t say them. Instead, I cling to him, lifting my leg and wrapping it around his back, needing to be as close as possible to the man who has changed everything.