Chapter 25
25
Sydney
B reakup sex was a bad idea. Like, top three worst ideas I’d ever had, and I’d once cut my own bangs. But I was going into it with my eyes wide open. I knew this was good-bye. I knew it was going to hurt my heart.
But first, it was going to feel amazing.
We stepped through the door of my loft, and I put Torry back in his crate for a nap.
As soon as the blanket was draped over his cage, we immediately started ripping each other’s clothes off.
He pulled the hat off my head. “You stole this from the cabin, didn’t you?”
“You have a million of them.”
I kicked off my shoes, shimmied out of the tennis skirt I was wearing, along with my underwear, and kicked out of both. I reached for the button on his khaki shorts, as he was pushing his hands up the back of my polo shirt to get to my bra.
“Front clasp,” I gasped, as his fingers deftly changed course and undid the fastening, releasing my aching breasts into his hands. It felt so incredibly good to have him touching me again. Playing with my nipples. Teasing them between his fingers. I closed my eyes and thought how I needed to memorize all of this. Every second of breakup sex.
I managed to get the button undone on his shorts and thrust my hand inside, like his dick was a prize I’d won. I fell to my knees and took him into my mouth like I couldn’t wait another second.
Because I couldn’t.
The heat of him, the taste of him, the feel of him pushing deep into my mouth was all I wanted. He was gloriously naked in my apartment, completely under my control, as I worshiped his cock. Licking around the head, carefully rolling his balls in one hand, while the other pumped the base.
I wanted to give him all of it. Everything he’d taught me about what he liked, what I liked. I wanted to tease the cum out of him. Let his orgasm surprise him. So that it was out of his control. Into mine.
“Syd, enough.”
It was never going to be enough.
We could break up. He could sign the papers. But it wouldn’t be enough. This one last time, I had to give it everything I could.
I sucked him deep and squeezed his balls into his body.
“Fuck!” he cried, stumbling back a few steps. He took himself in hand and squeezed his dick so hard the tip went purple and cum dribbled out. I fucking loved that. When he had to get himself back under control.
“Breakup sex can get pretty rough,” he said, and I got to my feet. My heart racing. He wanted to give me all my favorite things too. “All those emotions have to have some release.”
He took another step toward me. Both of us moving in our old dance. Predator and prey.
The apartment was one of those open concept lofts. The kitchen, living room and bedroom all open. Only the bathroom was closed off. He had to see we were moving in the direction of my king size bed.
Any second he was going to jump. Did I try to run first?
Yeah, why not?
I turned and scrambled away from him as if there was anywhere to go. As if maybe I didn’t want to be caught. He let me get around the kitchen island, through the living room, down the hall and into my bedroom before he was on me.
His arms wrapping around my chest and breasts, his cock pressing deep in between my ass cheeks. One hand had me by the pussy, the other anchored me against his chest.
I was pinned to him in every way.
“You don’t ever run from me again,” he growled into my ear, before taking a nip of my ear lobe.
Did he mean literally? Like the way I ran from him at the awards?
He walked us forward toward the bed, he had total control of my body. My feet didn’t even touch the ground. I felt myself getting wetter. Hotter. It made me crazy when he used his strength this way.
He threw me onto the bed and got on behind me. His back to the headboard.
“Turn around, I want you to suck me again. Do not make me come.”
I scrambled to obey and felt a gush of arousal between my legs. He cupped the back of my neck and I took him into my mouth.
“Suck the head, baby. That’s it. Not too hard though, because I plan to fill your pussy up with all my cum.”
He didn’t mean it. How would he know? I had to tell him.
Tugging on my hair, he pulled me off his cock and the words just fell out.
“I went on the pill.” It only made sense now that I was a sexually active person. That’s what I told myself. That it was for me and not for him. But the truth was, maybe I’d been holding on to hope.
He swallowed. “You okay taking me raw?”
I nodded.
“Then come here,” he said roughly.
He moved me how he wanted me, my back to his chest, my thighs spread over his. I could feel his hand, positioning his cock, and then in a second, he was deep inside me.
We cried out at the same time. Like the pleasure was just too much.
He brought his arms around me, held both my wrists in his fist while his other hand slipped over my belly and his fingers started to rub against my clit. He didn’t move. Just held himself deep inside while he teased me, keeping my hands clasped together the whole time.
“Wyatt,” I moaned. “You have to move.”
“Nuh, uh. You ran from me. You want to come, get yourself there. I want to watch you work for it.”
It wasn’t easy. He had me pinned, but I used the muscles in my thighs to lift myself. Up and down, although not with any real force. I started to twist and grind my hips, but his grip on my hips only got stronger. Like he was trying to resist my efforts, despite demanding them.
It was like he didn’t want it to be over too fast. He wanted me trapped in his arms. On his cock, for as long as he could make it last.
God, it was so hot. I was bucking against him, squirming against him.
“Beg,” he said. “I want you to beg me.”
“Please,” I groaned, so far past the point of pride. “Please make me come. Please. You do it so good.”
He clasped my throat in his hand, his mouth against my ear. “That’s right, Syd,” he said, his voice that perfect bass note. I hummed in my throat to harmonize. “No one is going to make you come like I will. No one will play these game you like. No one will fuck you or love you like me.”
My heart stopped. Did he say love?
But then he brushed his thumb over my clit again and I was gone, bucking and screaming with my head back. Trying to break his grip on my wrists, but not able to. I couldn’t get away. Not until he let me go.
The pleasure rolled through me and left me devastated.
“Wyatt,” I breathed. Chanted. Like an oath.
He pushed me down flat on the bed, pressed my hands over my head and started driving deep and hard into me. The pressure was intense and I don’t know if it prolonged my orgasm or triggered another one, but I was utterly lost to it. All of his force and energy absorbed by my body. Transformed by my body.
I felt like I would come forever.
“Fuck,” he shouted. “I’m coming so hard. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Syd!”
He collapsed over me, but made sure to keep the bulk of his weight off my back, and for a long time all we did was breathe. Our hearts beat. Our lungs worked and the moment was perfect. And maybe I was about to ruin it, but I wasn’t playing games anymore. I wasn’t the good girl waiting for someone to tell me what to do. I handled my own shit.
“You love me?” I asked.
He rolled over onto his side and I turned my head so I was facing him. Unable to stop myself, I stroked my hand over his beard.
“I love you,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I have loved you since you almost caved that asshole’s head in with a driver in Vegas.”
I narrowed my eyes, unsure if I could believe any of this. “But you’re signing the divorce papers, aren’t you?”
He said this was breakup sex. I wasn’t the wife he wanted. Hockey would start in a few weeks and I’m not WAG material.
Those were all true. But what was also true was that he loved me.
“Yeah. I am,” he said, and he heaved himself off the bed. He left the room and a few seconds later Predator’s crate was open and five pounds of fur and bad manners came barreling down the hallway and up into my bed.
He got very invested in the smell between my legs and I scooped him up in my arms.
Wyatt came back into the bedroom, pulling his t-shirt over his head. His shorts were on and so were his flip flops. He was leaving.
He was leaving.
“So this is…goodbye?”
Obviously, Syd. Duh.
“Goodbye to that Wyatt and Syd,” he said. “Goodbye to the idiots who got drunk in Vegas and ended up married. Goodbye to the bullshit of trying to keep it secret and thinking we had to hold ourselves accountable to anyone other than ourselves. Goodbye to the rules.”
“That’s a lot of goodbying,” I pointed out.
He walked over to the bed and cupped my chin in his hand, forcing me to look up at him. It was so hard, because he was so handsome sometimes I forgot to breathe.
“Goodbye to the asshole who said you would be the last woman on the planet I would marry. That guy didn’t know shit about shit.”
“Goodbye, asshole,” I muttered.
He laughed and stroked my cheek with his fingers. “Okay. I’m going to head back home. I’m going to sign those papers and that Wyatt and Syd will be officially done.”
Why did he have to sound so happy about it?
“Then I want you to keep your eye on the lookout for something. Will you do that for me?”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see. And stop spoiling Predator with treats. He’s got a name to live up to.”