Chapter 12 Wyatt
Wyatt
I ease Sadie’s jeans and panties over her hips and down her legs, leaving her naked.
“Wyatt?” she whispers, her hands moving to cover herself.
I clasp her wrists in one big hand and pin them above her head. “Lie still and let me look, Dove. Okay?”
The doubt is her eyes burns away as she watches me drink her in. I groan, long and low, easing up until I’m sitting between her spread thighs. My gaze moves down to her pussy, where her slick, swollen flesh tells me how much she wants me.
“Christ, Sadie.” I scrub a hand over my face. “Fucking perfect.”
I kiss the jut of her hipbone and the inside of her knee.
She shivers and laughs breathlessly. “Ticklish.”
I grin. Then my mouth moves to her inner thigh, and her laugh dissolves into something shameless.
I pause an inch from where she’s wet, breathing her in like she’s air. “Tell me what you want.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I want your mouth.”
“Where?”
She slides a hand between her legs. “Here.”
I nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
My tongue slides slowly through her folds with a pressure that makes her hips climb my face. I hold her steady, one arm around her thigh, the other hand splayed low on her belly—a gentle anchor, a reminder she can let go and the world won’t tilt.
I home in on her clit and lick her with patience and intention. When she gasps as I graze her with my teeth, I do it again. When she gasps louder, I hum a satisfied sound that vibrates into her core.
“Wyatt,” she says—prayer, plea, gratitude all in one.
“Right here,” I answer, then, “Open wider for me.”
Her thighs fall wider without shame. Having my face buried between her legs is… God, it’s fucking heaven.
“I’m close,” she warns less than a minute later, looking surprised and undone by how fast I’ve brought her to the edge.
“Are you going to come for me, Dove?” I rasp, sliding a thick, slow finger inside her.
“Oh! I—” She clenches around my digit.
“Let me have it.”
She lets go, trusting me to catch her.
“Wyatt!”
I look up, watching her expression as pleasure hits her bright and sharp, arching her body off the bed and stiffening her nipples to puckered peaks. I keep going, letting her ride it out as she trembles from the delicious aftershocks.
Eventually, she pushes at my head.
“I can’t… too sensitive.”
I slide up her body, bracing my weight on my forearms, and kiss her deeply so she can taste herself on my tongue.
“You with me?” I ask against her mouth.
“Yes,” she breathes, looking wrecked in the best way. “I’m here.”
“Do you want more?”
She nods. “Yes. I want you inside me. I’m on the pill—for my periods.”
I close my eyes for a second, needing a breath to maintain control. “I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone for years. I want you bare. But only if you want that.”
“God, yes. I want that.”
I rise, stripping off my jeans and boxers with practical economy. Her breath hitches as she looks at my cock, which is thick and swollen. I’m harder than I’ve ever been.
Sadie licks her lips. “Beautiful. And all mine.”
Okay, now I’m harder than I’ve ever been.
Settling back over her, I brace my weight on one hand and use the other to guide myself to her slick entrance.
I stop, breathing hard. “Tell me if anything burns. If you need me to stop. If anything feels wrong.”
She presses a finger to my mouth. “I trust you. Please, Wyatt, I need you.”
I groan and begin to press in.
Jesus, she feels… I don’t have words for it. Too much and not enough.
I watch her face. Stop when she gasps. Kiss her until the gasp dissolves. Add another inch when her muscles soften and welcome me instead of resisting.
“Halfway,” I say raggedly. “Doing so good. Breathe.”
“Halfway?” she squeaks, her eyes wide.
I huff out a chuckle, which becomes a moan when she clenches around me.
I rock a fraction, and her breath breaks.
She wraps her legs around my waist. “More,” she huffs. “Please.”
I withdraw and thrust inside again—deeper this time. She’s slick from her earlier climax, which helps to ease my path, but it still takes several slow, patient thrusts before I fill her completely, seated as deep as I can go.
We both go still.
My forehead drops to her shoulder. I need a second to remember how to speak.
“Okay?” I grit out.
“Yes,” she says, teary and laughing. “Oh, yes, Wyatt. This feels so right.”
I pull back an inch and sink in again. My body lights up like a constellation. I keep it slow even as my control threatens to fray, hips rolling in a perfect tempo, each stroke a promise, writing my name into her like scripture.
“Look at me,” I command gently.
Her breath shudders when our eyes meet, like the sight of me looking back undoes her more than anything else we’re doing. We stay there, breathing the same air, letting our heartbeats find each other in the quiet.
“Still with me?” I murmur.
“I’m here,” she whispers, her eyes soft and deep. “I want this. I want you.”
I kiss her again, memorizing the moment cell by cell. My hand finds hers, and I lace our fingers together, anchoring us both. I let her set the rhythm with that simple link—her hand tightening when she needs closeness, loosening when she needs space to breathe.
She looks at me with a reverence that makes my chest ache.
I watch her face more than anything else, searching for every flicker of emotion, adjusting to each one like it’s my compass.
When something shifts inside her—too much, too fast—I pause without her needing to say a word.
I kiss my shoulder, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, grounding her in the moment.
“You’re doing so well,” I whisper. “Breathe with me.”
We breathe together—slow inhale, slower exhale. Her body loosens again. The tension is replaced with warmth, with a belonging so foreign that I almost don’t recognize it as mine.
She lifts her hand to my cheek, thumb tracing the rough edge of stubble. “Wyatt…”
I kiss her palm. “I’ve got you.”
I thrust in and out, slowly at first, then deeper. Harder. Too much and not enough. She grips my neck and lifts her hips to meet each plunge. I adjust the angle so my pelvic bone drags across her swollen clit. She gasps, squeezing and rippling around me.
My voice is a growl. “There?”
“Yes!” she sobs. “Don’t… stop.”
I groan. Quicken my pace. “You’re taking me so deep. So fucking deep.”
Her climax hits unexpectedly, her face painted with pleasure.
My name leaves her mouth like a confession and a homecoming, making me feel found. Held. Seen.
My hips stutter, and I release a long, low groan into her neck as I spill inside her. I shake and tremble as I fall half on top of her. She cradles my head against her breasts, stroking my back as the tension eases from my muscles.
I stay right there, not moving, not letting the moment collapse. After a minute, I shift my weight so she doesn’t feel trapped, one hand smoothing up her spine, the other threading our fingers together.
“You okay?” I ask unsteadily.
Sadie nods against my shoulder. “I’m more than okay.”
I exhale and kiss her forehead. “Thank you.”
She pulls back enough to look at him and see the truth in my eyes—this wasn’t just desire. It was everything. And I read the same truth in hers.
I brush her hair back gently. “Need to clean you up, sweetheart.”
I leave the bed and return a minute later with a warm washcloth. Sadie shivers as I run it gently over her swollen flesh.
“Sore?”
She flushes. “A little. In the best way.”
I ditch the cloth in the wash basket in the corner before returning to the bed and dropping a kiss on her swollen lips. “What do you need? Water? Food?”
She shakes her head and tugs me back into bed, pressing her naked body against me. “I just need this. You.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and tighten my arms around her.
Snow shifts outside the window, but in here, the world is warm and still.