Chapter 27
Alice
Iwrap my legs tighter around Wyatt’s waist as he stretches over me, flipping on a bedside lamp. Then he’s haloed in golden light, his collarbones like carved marble, the expanse of his muscular chest making my breath catch.
“You still sure?” he breathes into the crook of my neck, his lips pressing against my skin as he increases the pressure at the apex of my thighs. I arch into him, gasping his name as pleasure nearly devours me. “Are you sure I’m what you want?”
I slide one hand around to his face, cupping his sculptural jaw in my hand.
“Yes,” I manage to exhale, breathless. His deep brown eyes meet mine, and there’s more there—a story for another day.
Words won’t do for tonight. I need to show this fiercely kind, compassionate, and incredibly gorgeous man that I want him more than anything.
“Are you sure you won’t get tired of me? ”
His mouth trails down my neck, breath ghosting my collarbone, before kissing the top of my breasts. At the same time, he slides a finger inside me, and I cry out, grinding my hips against him. “I can’t ever imagine being tired of you, Alice Blythe,” he near-growls, his lips brushing my nipple.
I wrap one thigh tighter around him, desperate for more, my heart pounding. “Prove it,” I gasp.
He laughs softly, pulling away to meet my gaze, one of those dark brows arched.
Slowly, his thumb still working in quickening circles at my core, he slips another finger inside me, sliding in and out.
“Oh, sweet girl,” Wyatt murmurs, bringing his mouth back to my breast. “When I’m done, there won’t be a doubt left in your mind that I want every last part of you. ”
Desire rockets through me, white-hot and hungry. “Then give me more,” I beg, bucking my hips into his hands. “Give me all of you. Now.”
“You sure know how to make a man feel wanted,” he replies with a chuckle, reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a condom from a drawer.
I whimper when he pulls away from me, but as he rocks back, I’m treated to a perfect view of him: broad shoulders and a tapered waist, all wiry, coiled muscle from hard work.
My gaze drops to his cock as he pulls the condom on.
“Fuck,” is all I manage, biting my lip.
His eyes slide to me, the rest of his body still, amusement playing on his lips. “Like what you see?” he asks with an arched brow. Before I can answer, his gaze roams my body, bare to him in the lamplight. His cock jumps, and an intense jolt of pure need spears through my chest.
“Don’t make me wait any longer,” I whimper, reaching for his forearm. He laughs and leans forward, drowning me in a kiss that makes me forget the rest of the world exists. I can feel the evidence of his desire against my damp wetness, and it’s all so fucking perfect that I moan into his mouth.
“I love it when you make that sound,” Wyatt growls, sliding his arm under my waist and pulling my hips flush with his. I tangle my hands in his mussed hair, capturing his lower lip between my teeth.
“I need you inside of me,” I tell him. “Or I’m gonna scream.”
“Oh, darlin’ girl,” he laughs. “I’m gonna make you scream either way.”
And then—finally—he’s inside me, filling me to the brim. My entire body throbs with pleasure, my chest heaving into his.
“Wyatt,” I pant, digging my fingernails into his shoulders as he moves against me, sliding one hand between our hips. Deftly, he finds my clit, his circles harder and faster now.
“Fuck, Alice,” he moans in a low, hoarse voice that takes my breath away. “You’re godsdamn perfect, you know that? Like you were made for me.”
I’m soaking wet and trembling with need. “Harder,” I demand, sliding my tongue into his mouth. “Fuck me harder.”
He obeys without protest, entwining one hand into my tangled waves and then driving his hips into mine so hard that my head bangs into the bedframe. I barely fucking notice, my mind fuzzy with pleasure and unbridled joy—okay, and probably the tequila, a little.
“Shit,” Wyatt says, reaching down to grab a pillow from the floor. He still slides in and out of me, pulling a strangled cry from my mouth, as he props the pillow up behind my head with one hand. “You alright?”
“Much more than alright,” I tease with a laugh, looking up at him. “You’re such a damn gentleman.” I can’t believe he’s real. I can’t believe that in this shit world, Wyatt Hayes even exists, let alone wants me—wants me this bad, his eyes glittering with desire, mouth swollen from my kiss.
“Oh, Blythe,” he breathes as he plants both hands on either side of my head.
He moves in and out of me slowly, the muscles on his abdomen rippling.
Pleasure and pressure mount low in my belly.
“I’m not always such a gentleman.” He pauses, considering me with what might be adoration in his eyes. “You make me into a wild thing.”
I grin at him. “Show me, Hayes.”
With a velvety groan that makes my head spin, Wyatt does exactly that.
He drives into me hard—hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall.
I barely hear it, so utterly lost in him.
My entire world is little more than the feeling of his warm, tan skin against mine, the taste of him in my mouth, the thick, hard length of him inside me.
I should go slower, I know—it’s been a long time. But I don’t care. I want him like this, half-feral, both of us a bit mad with desire. I want to know I’m not the only one who’s been delirious and distracted by thoughts of finding myself in bed with him.
“Been thinking about this for so long,” Wyatt admits, like he’s read my mind, panting against my jaw as he drives into me again and again.
I realize distantly that I can barely hear him over the sound of my own moans, high and breathless, barely sounding like myself.
“I dreamed about being deep inside you, that smart little mouth saying my name over and over.”
Pleasure gathers in me like a stormfront, electricity crackling.
I wrap my fingers around one of his wrists and try to pull his hand back between my legs.
He laughs and rolls us over, putting me on top.
I spread my legs wide to take him all the way inside me, drawing a deep breath.
He grips my hips hard, fingers pressing into my skin—and, fuck, I love it.
I try to memorize it: Wyatt Hayes beneath me, his mouth parted in a breathy moan, his chest rising in a short, hard breath.
I push my hair off my shoulders, my skin growing damp, and roll my hips, beginning to ride him. I start off gentle, trying to get my bearings, a little embarrassed by my lack of muscle memory. But then he meets my gaze.
“Thought we weren’t goin’ slow, love,” he murmurs. “Ride me hard, Blythe.”
It’s impossible not to give this man what he wants—especially because he rarely asks for anything at all.
I wish he’d ask me for everything he’s ever desired, because I would do my goddamn best to make sure every single thing came true.
But for now, I just grin, rolling my hips harder against him.
A wave of pleasure sweeps through me, and I greedily fuck him harder, my breasts bouncing, drawing the most wonderful sounds from his mouth.
Wyatt slides his hands from my hips to my breasts, playing with my nipples until I cry out, the tension in my core almost too much to bear. “You take my cock so well,” he groans, driving his hips up into mine.
“Wyatt,” I pant, pulling one of his hands to my core. He obliges, pinching my nipple as he works his fingers against my clit. It’s all a perfect symphony of pleasure, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. “I think you might’ve been made just for me.”
“I think so, too,” he replies, returning his hands to my hips, where he grips me so hard, I cry out. “Now, are you gonna come for me, Alice? Shatter for me?”
“Yes,” I whimper, grinding against him, pulling a breathless groan from his mouth. “God, I love how you feel inside of me.”
Wyatt grins, a tumble of dark hair falling across his forehead. “Show me how good it feels,” he commands, his voice gone low and rough. “Come all over my cock, sweet girl.”
His words send me tumbling over the edge, and I cry out, his name dripping like honey from my tongue, my body gone boneless and trembling as I crest the towering wave of pleasure.
My vision goes near-black, and then I find myself lying on Wyatt, our chests pressed together, his arms wrapped around me.
We’re both breathing hard, a slick sheen of sweat coating our skin.
“Best damn day of my life, Blythe,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. But I can feel that he’s still rock-hard inside me, so I push to sit up, my brow furrowed.
“Not yet,” I tell him with a grin. “Tell me what you want. You pulled me all the way in. Now tell me what I gotta do to pull you all the way in.”
He pushes a damp wave of hair away from my forehead. “I think I’m already there,” he murmurs. “Think I’ve been there for a while.”
I raise a brow at him, sitting back to ride him again—slower this time, pulling myself all the way up before sliding back down. He lets out a hoarse, husky sound, his fingers clutching my hips. I grin with triumph.
“Tell me, Hayes,” I say, riding him harder now, watching his attention stray as my breasts bounce.
This time, he doesn’t hesitate, rolling me back over with a ferocity that makes me weak. He gathers me up in his arms, pulling my legs tightly around his hips. “I’m gonna bury myself inside you, Alice,” he whispers against my neck.
“You better,” I reply, nipping at his ear. He groans in response, tangling his hands in my hair, and then fucks me so hard that if he had neighbors, they’d absolutely hear me screaming his name like I’m in a goddamn porno.
“Fuck, Alice,” he rasps, his head tilted back in pure ecstasy, the golden lamplight tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Gods, you feel so good.”
“How long?” I manage to gasp. “How long have you been imagining this?”
He pauses, leaning down on his elbows to capture my mouth in a long, lingering kiss, his hips moving slower now. “Since you walked into the Stardust office. Since day one and every moment since.”
It’s more than pleasure rekindling itself in my body now.
It’s the feeling that I could grow old with him.
No, we don’t know what the future holds—but right now, tangled up in Wyatt’s sheets, his mouth on mine, I know with a fierceness that if we both continue wanting each other, nothing will ever be able to tear us apart.
“Fill me up, then,” I tell him, biting down on his lower lip until he rolls his hips harder into mine. “Show me everything you’ve been saving for me.”
With a near-feral sound that sends anticipation shivering through my body, Wyatt sits back up, his hands gripping my waist. “Lift those lovely hips for me,” he growls, sliding his palms to the crooks of my knees as I obey his command.
My back arches as he increases his pace, and I reach for him, digging my fingernails into his shoulders as he fucks me as hard as I’ve been wishing he would.
“Alice,” he cries out, so much feeling in the two scant syllables of my name.
I feel his cock pulse inside me, pushing deliciously against my throbbing walls.
I savor every second—his parted mouth, eyes locked on mine, filled with something that I know could be love, one day, if it’s what we both want.
To my surprise, the pleasure in my core flutters, and another orgasm rises inside of me, sweeping my body with warmth. I bite out his name as he buries his head in the crook of my neck, one hand stroking my hair, powerful fingers so impossibly gentle.
He rolls to the side, immediately pulling me into his arms. I settle my head on his chest, his skin damp.
Drawing in a deep breath of his smell, all bonfires and deep pine woods, I close my eyes, utterly spent and beyond satisfied.
Tomorrow morning, I hope I’ll get to see more of Wyatt’s space—of his room, of his home, of the knick-knacks he’s chosen for his bookshelves and Fern’s favorite spot on the battered Chesterfield I passed out on earlier.
I want to know him, and I want him to know me just as deeply. Tears fill my eyes, and I feel so silly for it, but…I haven’t been close to many people in my life. Beyond my startling lack of lasting romantic connections, I’ve just always struggled to fit in.
But here, in a handsome stone farmhouse high in Blackbird Hollow’s hills, tucked in Wyatt Hayes’s arms, I feel like I fit perfectly.
Wyatt mumbles something, breaking my reverie as he presses a kiss to my temple.
My heart lurches as he gets up, but he’s back in a few moments with a towel, in case I want to clean up a little, and a giant mason jar filled with water.
Then we’re back in bed together, our limbs winding together, his mouth finding mine unerringly, even in the nighttime gloom.
His lips trail over my collarbone, my breasts, my belly, my hips, and then my thighs. “Tryin’ to memorize all of you,” he says in a rough voice against my skin, shifting further down the bed. “But you see, Alice, I’m missing a crucial bit of information…”
I lift my head to look at him quizzically, only to find him sliding between my legs. “And what’s that?”
He slips his hands around my thighs with a devilish grin, his gaze dropping to the damp, aching place at the apex of my legs. “What you taste like, sweet girl.”