28. Oz
Oz
Every part of me tightens at Wild’s dirty talk. We’re gonna finish that conversation from earlier—I know we will—but this is like starting all over with him. Wild isn’t putting on a show for anyone; he’s just being himself, and I don’t know this version of him.
Trailing my fingers down his pec muscle, I trace the hardened point of his nipple as I smile. “We’ve got to do something about that, Mister Lane.”
He lifts his chin and stares, those green eyes piercing through me. His silence is so fucking sexy I can barely stand it. After a moment, he cocks his head to the side, dragging his gaze down my body to where our hands are clasped together. He looks back up, still totally silent, and smiles.
“I like Mister Lane, Oz, but you know what else might sound sexy?”
I stare up into that shocking gaze, slipping my free hand up his shirt to rest over his slowly thumping heart. “Tell me.”
He leans down, brushing the tip of his nose against mine, his lips barely touching me. “Cowboy,” he murmurs. “Call me cowboy.”
A full body shudder racks me.
He slides a hand up between my wings, cradling the back of my head in a possessive grip. “When we get home, I want you to ask me to ride you, baby. Let me do what I do best, hmm?”
“I haven’t forgotten last night,” I manage. “You’re a natural, cowboy.”
His nostrils flare, and a sexy smirk overtakes him. “Don’t matter how long since I’ve been on top, Oz, I’ll never forget how.”
“Maybe you should let me try that sometime,” I offer, sliding a hand down to the front of his pants to squeeze a deliciously thick erection.
He chuckles. “Don’t think so, sweetheart.” His expression goes serious. “Unless that’s something you need from time to time?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”
His lips drift over mine, his breath warm and sweet. “I’ve been hard for hours thinking about you, Oz. What do you say we get home, finish that conversation, and go from there?”
I peck his sweet lips before I pull back. “Can this be a naked conversation? I find it’s far easier to have serious convos that way.”
He laughs and pulls away, grabbing my hand and slipping it through the crook of his elbow. As we take off up Main Street toward my apartment, he chuckles. “Sounds distracting.”
“I hope it will be.” I shuffle my wings at my back even as I slide my tail to the back of his shirt and up, resting it between his shoulder blades.
He shudders and looks down at me with a sexy little laugh. “That’s chilly.”
“Don’t worry,” I grip his forearm tighter, “I’m gonna warm you up in a few minutes.”
We head down the alleyway, and I move ahead so I can grab the door.
Somehow, he still manages to reach around me and pull it open.
It’s nice in a romantic way, to be cared for like that.
Saint used to open doors for me, but it felt like something he only did when he thought others might see, not because he actually cared to do it.
At the top, I fumble for my key but manage to let us in after two attempts. Wild’s a quiet, hot presence at my back, breathing quietly against me. His warm breath coasts over my wing bones, reminding me of how he bit and teased them last night. A soft moan escapes me at the memory.
He chuckles. “You thinking about this?”
I gasp when he drags his open, hot mouth along the bone.
At the first edge where it curves, he bites.
Falling forward, I press my forehead to the cool wood of my front door.
Wild keeps going, sucking and licking until he gets to the leathery skin that connects each section.
One of his hands comes to my wing, and he drags his nails carefully down it.
“I’m thoroughly obsessed with these,” he murmurs.
Arching, I grind my ass against his body. Fuck the conversation we need to have. There’s time for that later. Right now, I just want him on top of me doing more of what he’s doing right now. The way he’s touching me is worshipful, by turns tender and possessive, and I can’t get enough of it.
He shoves my jeans down in the back, running his fingers along the base of my tail. When he grips it and wraps the length around his fist, my knees buckle.
“So deliciously sensitive,” he growls into the side of my neck. “We’ve barely played with this pretty long tail. Get inside, baby.”
Groaning, I push the door open and practically stumble into the living room. Wild comes in behind me, swatting my ass as he spins me around. Linking my arms around his neck, I hold on while he shoves my jeans fully down over my ass, gripping both taut globes as he roves over every inch of me.
He smiles, running a hand beneath my tail and along my crack. “I’m gonna grab a glass of water for after. You grab the lube and get in your nest, alright? I’ll be there in a moment.”
Popping onto my tiptoes, I peck him on the lips. “Sounds good, cowboy.”
I make a mental note to add Kick-Ass Aftercare to the list of Real Things I Know About Wilder.
His happy rumble tells me just how much he likes that nickname, so I catalog it in the column of Real Things I Know About Wilder, too. I’m going to start writing them down so I don’t forget a single one.
Stepping fully out of my jeans, I kick them to the side as Wild rounds my island. He hunts around for the glasses, and I smile, watching muscles flex beneath his jean shirt.
“First cabinet on the left.” I pass the island, fully nude, and head for my nest down the hall.
He moves quietly, filling a glass with water.
In my room, I flop into bed and scoot against the headboard.
While I wait for him to appear, I reach down and rub a finger over the crown of my cock.
I’m half hard from the anticipation alone.
Letting out a soft moan, I let my knees fall wide and use both hands to stroke down my length and spread precum over my tip.
Flaring my wings wide, I hook the tips into cutouts high in the wall and pull myself upright, back flat against the headboard wall. My head falls forward as I start thrusting slowly into my joined fists.
“Now ain’t that a sight for sore eyes.” Wild appears in the doorway, leaning against it with the glass of water in one hand. When I pause, he lifts the glass and takes a sip. “Don’t you dare stop, pretty thing.”
Groaning, I stroke harder, gripping my base with my left hand while I rub my tip with the right.
It’s so hot the way he stares, green eyes narrowed as they drift lazily from my face down to the movement of my fingers.
He grins when I move down my length and back up, his cheeks flushing a darker green.
His heartbeat—that steady thud—rises slowly as he watches.
Thinking back to his big body behind me, I jack myself with steady, rhythmic jerks. Eyes locked to his, I watch as his gaze drifts to my movements. His nostrils flare.
Jerk. Stroke. Rub.
“Keep goin’,” he murmurs when my chest heaves, breaths coming out stuttered. Orgasm builds in my sack, my body tightening as I watch Wild push off the doorframe.
He stalks to my bedside table and sets down the water, then crawls onto the nest and sits on his heels in front of me.
“Don’t stop,” he commands, staring at my throbbing, dripping cock.
“Fuck!” I shout, balls tightening as the beginnings of pleasure erupt through me, fluttering outward in great waves as my hips jerk to meet my hands. Seed barrels down my shaft and explodes from the tip in a creamy rush.
Wild shifts upright with his mouth open, and I coat his lips and tongue, painting him with cum. It splatters over his cheeks and chin too. He looks absolutely decadent like this as I drag the last vestiges of pleasure from my cock.
“You look so fucking handsome like this, covered in cum.” I reach down with my tail and gather it onto my spade. Curling the tip of my tail into a tight cone, I tease it between my ass cheeks and against my back hole.
Wild’s brows lift. “That’s quite a trick. You like to fuck yourself, baby?”
“Toys, my tail, I like all the things,” I admit, winking at him as I push my tail an inch or two inside. “I like to experiment, Wilder.”
He chuckles and watches the slow rhythm of my tail as I prep my ass with smooth, even strokes. Heat keeps building and building, but I need lube for this. Cum feels good for a minute, but there’s no replacement for the right thing.
At my feet, Wild stands and pulls his clothes off until he’s fully naked.
He steps close enough to press his body to mine, thick cock rubbing against the underside of my own as I gasp and pant at the new friction.
One of Wild’s hands moves to my sack, and he kneads it lightly.
The other moves to my nipple, the rough pad of his thumb tracing circles around my swollen flesh.
“Fuck, you’re pretty.” He chuckles. “I can just imagine you doing this on your own, fantasizing about what we did the other night.”
I can barely summon a response through the warring sensations of him gently plucking at my sack and stroking my nipple. It’s all too much and simultaneously not enough.
“You’re about to ask me to give you more,” he says with a low, sexy little growl. “And I’d like to, baby, I really would, but I need you to do something for me first.”
My mouth drops open, and he laughs again.
Leaning close to my face, he brings his mouth to my ear. “Now you’ve got the idea, pretty boy.”