Chapter Eight #2
I glance over at her, expecting more questions, but her lips are pursed again, her brows furrowed like she's thinking. She doesn't ask for details, and I don't offer them.
She also doesn't say anything else, not until we're back at her place, standing on her front step.
"Do you want to come in?" she asks, fidgeting a little.
"More than you know," I growl, backing her up against the side of the house to kiss her.
My hands clamp around her hips, my control stretched to the limits at the thought of following her inside.
I want it more than I want to breathe. But I know damn well what will happen if I do. "But I shouldn't."
"Why not?"
I groan softly, nipping at her bottom lip. "Because if I get you alone, I'm going to do my damnedest to get you naked and on my cock, Harlow. You just spent your life savings bailing me out of jail, and I'm fucking weak for you."
"Wade?" She tips her head back, her emerald eyes dark and full of some emotion that's as terrifying as it is thrilling.
"Yeah?" I mouth, my voice hoarse.
"Maybe I'm weak for you, too," she whispers. "M-maybe I want the same thing you want. Did you ever think of that?"
Christ.
Jesus Christ and all his saints.
I flatten her against the wall.
"Don't say it if you don't mean it," I rasp, my whole goddamn body shaking. "Don't tempt a desperate man, baby."
"I'm not," she practically sobs, her nails sinking into my shoulders. "Please, Wade. Please come inside with me."
She's so sweet, so goddamn sweet when she begs. How is a man supposed to resist that? How is he supposed to stand his ground and stay strong when she's begging? He can't. It's not humanly possible. It's just not.
The groan that rips from my lips feels like it comes from the depths of my soul. It's agreement, surrender, fucking everything all at once. My mouth lands on hers again, my kiss desperate, urgent.
She sobs against my lips, her nails digging into my shoulders as she presses so close I feel her heart thudding against my chest. It pounds frantically, like it's trying to beat its way out of her chest.
"Take me inside," she begs.
I scoop her up with my hands on her ass. Her legs go around my waist, the heat of her pussy nestling against my cock. Fucking hell, she's so hot, she's burning.
We stumble through the door, kissing, touching, both frantic.
"Bedroom," I growl, shoving the door closed with a foot.
"Down the hall. Left."
I'm moving before she's even finished speaking, one hand on her ass, the other working at the buttons of her top. My fingers are clumsy, popping threads and sending the little buttons flying just as often as I manage to get one safely undone.
She doesn't seem to mind. Every time one snaps, she moans louder, grinding against me. Her pussy rides right against my cock, and I know she feels every inch, knows she can tell how fucking wild I am for her.
"Keep going," I growl, using my hand on her ass to keep rocking her. "Take your pleasure from me, baby. Use me."
"I can't…I can't…" Her nails bite into the back of my neck, her head falling back. "Oh, God, Wade."
We stumble into the wall, knocking a painting askew.
I spin her, pressing her against the drywall, just to watch her writhe on the edge of torment and bliss for a moment. My hand slips between our bodies, beneath the waistband of her skirt. Somehow, my hat gets knocked onto the floor.
"Goddamn, Harlow," I growl, shocked at how wet she is. Even through her panties, she's dripping for me. I grab the crotch and twist, tearing them from her just so I can touch her skin to skin, feel all the wetness against my fingertips. "You need me this much, baby?"
"Yes!" she gasps, arching upward.
I part her slit with my thumb, precum spilling into my pants. Fucking hell. She's perfect. Hot, wet. Perfect.
My thumb runs circles around her clit, my eyes locked on her face as her lips part, her eyes slamming closed. God, she's beautiful like this, all flushed and trembling.
I need to taste her pleasure, feel her shattering on my tongue.
As soon as the urge strikes—hot and insistent—I'm dropping to my knees, lifting her onto my shoulders. She squeals, grasping at my head like she's afraid I'm going to drop her, but that'll never happen. She's lightwork compared to the shit I do every day.
"Spread wide for me, beautiful," I murmur, working her skirt up her hips. "Let me have a taste."
"Oh, God, Wade…"
Her pussy is as beautiful as the rest of her, flushed and pink, her hard little clit already swollen for me. I groan at the sight, my mouth watering. She smells like heaven, tangy and sweet at the same time.
I run my lips up one silky, smooth thigh before burying myself face-first in her cunt. She wails my name loud enough to shake the heavens. Her taste hits my tongue, and I know I'm fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
I always thought I was a good man, an honorable one. It's a lie. Because with her on my tongue, wailing my name, I know there isn't a fucking thing I won't do to keep her right here, to keep her all to myself. This is where I belong, on my knees, worshipping at the gates of heaven.
I part her slit with two fingers, running my tongue from her clit to her asshole and then back. She tangles her hands into my hair, pulling, moaning, fucking begging.
And I'm so hard, it hurts. I need her to come. I need to crawl inside her and imprint myself right there, where she'll never forget me.
"Come for me, beautiful," I groan, forcing my tongue as deep into her tight little hole as I can get it. I fuck her with it, shaking my head back and forth, curling it to try to reach her G-spot. I ruin her the same way she's ruining me, wringing her out.
She claws and screams, and then she shudders apart, her thighs clamped around my head as her pussy floods. I bury my face deeper, licking up every drop she spills, desperate to claim every one, to be the architect of every ounce of her pleasure, of every quiver, every gasp, and tremble.
She falls limp above me, shaking and panting.
I slide her down my body, catching her in my arms. My lips brush her sweaty temple. "You're beautiful when you're screaming for me, Harlow," I rumble, hauling myself to my feet with her in my arms. "So damn beautiful."
"Wade," she whimpers.
"I know, beautiful," I croon, carrying her toward the bedroom. "I know. I'm going to take care of you. Promise."
She shivers, pressing closer to me.
Her room is a riot of soft color—pinks, lilacs, and creams peek from everywhere. Even the paintings hanging on the walls are the same calming colors, turning the room into an oasis.
I lay her in the very center of the bed, just staring down at her while I undress. She's wildly disarrayed, her skirt hiked to her waist, her torn panties barely hanging on, her bra askew. Tendrils of hair are plastered to her flushed face. She's never looked more beautiful to me.
Her dilated eyes track across my body as my clothes drop to the floor. I'm not a vain man, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love the way they darkened.
"You're so beautiful," she whispers when I'm fully naked, my dick pointing at her like a divining rod. "Hard."
I wrap a fist around myself, grinning. "He has a habit of doing that around you, beautiful."
The flush on her cheeks deepens. "I meant everywhere. Like marble."
"Happens when you do what I do, beautiful," I rumble, slowly stroking my cock. "You know what I love?"
"What?"
"How soft you are." My gaze slides down her body, my cock twitching in my grip. "You're so fucking soft, Harlow. It's addictive for a man who hasn't had much softness in his life." There's never much of that on a ranch. It's hard work and harder lessons, from sunup to sundown.
She stretches her arms out wide, a sweet smile overtaking her face. "It's all for you, Wade Jessup. Come get it."
I groan, falling on her like the desperate man I am. The bed dips beneath my weight, my hands planted on either side of her perfect body as I crawl over her. She arches against me when I tug the cups of her bra down, my lips closing over one hard nipple.
"I love the way you moan for me," I rasp against her skin, and then suck hard just to hear it again.