Page 47 of Wicked Scandal

“Mmmhmm.” I grumble, releasing an airy moan. I have to roll my lips together to prevent myself from saying something embarrassing like, “This is the best it has ever felt,” or worse, “I want more.”

Instead I focus on him, rolling my thumb over the bead of moisture at the tip of his cock before reaching down and grabbing his balls. “Feel good for you?”

“God damn,” he hums. “You have no idea.”

I smirk as I massage him, then wrap my fingers back around his impressive length. More than anything, I want to feel him inside me. I want our bodies to cement together and never come undone.

I can’t even remember the last time Troy put his fingers inside me. For the last few years, it’s always been sex with no warm-up and I’ve always just pinched my eyes shut, praying for it to be fast. And an orgasm for me was out of the question.

But this…I want this to go slow. I want it to last forever.

I close my eyes and my body relaxes—every limb except my left hand. My mind clears and I focus solely on everything I’m feeling. Every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s being touched as his fingers slide in and out of my sopping cunt.

Another moan slips through my lips and when I open my eyes, I see Wilder watching me. Our gazes lock as we come undone together.

He pants, and I pant. My chest rises and falls, and his mirrors it. His mouth falls open and his beautiful eyes that have given me so much strength the past few days sparkle just for me.

I lick my lips and clench my thighs as I come around his fingers, feeling my arousal drip into his palm as I ride the wave. He doesn’t stop moving inside me, prolonging the pleasure even more.

My vision blurs and I gasp and shudder, crying out in ecstasy.

Wilder flinches and holds his breath, not even hesitating as he releases into his shorts. I continue to stroke him until I am sure he has given me every last drop.

We relax into each other, not wanting to break the moment. I don’t want to regret anything with him anymore. Wilder looks at me in wonder as we lie there nearly breathless when all we’ve done is use our hands.

Good God, imagine how much more incredible the sex would be with him.

With a hum of approval, Wilder leans in to place his lips on my forehead, holding them there as he whispers, “We didn’t have to?—”

“But I wanted to,” I tell him as I put my hands on either side of his head, holding him close. I need him to see I don’t regret this—him.

He pulls back slightly to look at me. “You didn’t let me finish.” A smile plays on his lips. “I was going to say, but I’m glad we did.”

We laid on the couch silent for a few minutes before we both decided we needed to clean up. Wilder ran out to his car to grab a pair of gym shorts he had in his backpack, and I just removed my panties and threw them in the bathroom trash can. Fortunately, I didn't get much on my shorts, so I’m still comfortable.

When he returns from changing, something inside me settles. His presence is like a wave of peace, and his touch reminds me that I am still alive.

It’s selfish to want him like this. To throw him into my world of hiding and fear. But he wouldn’t stay away, and now I don’t want him to.

It’s a Friday night and I’m sure there are much better things he can be doing instead of hanging out with his boring, old teacher. Yet, he stays.

We lie back down on the couch, this time with me wedged between him and the cushions, and I put on a movie—The Notebook. He holds me so close, so tight, and I savor every second of being in his arms.

My eyes are on the movie, but I’m not watching it, when I see Wilder raise his hand with his phone in it.

“What are you doing?” I giggle, moving my head away from the camera’s sight.

“I haven’t posted in days and I’ve used up my batched videos. Just a quick one. Don’t worry, you won’t be in it.”

I watch him as he makes a quick video of himself, telling his followers that in one more week, he’ll be free from the confines of school. His energy is contagious and his grin is wide. It’s obvious how much he loves entertaining and creating content.

Once he stops the recording, he adds a soft background sound and replays it for me, obviously seeking my approval.

You can see a few strands of my hair on his chest, but it’s not incriminating. Besides, he looks hot as hell with his disheveled hair, so I give him my blessing and he posts it.

The next twenty minutes are spent talking. Wilder tells me he has another speech to write for his dad so I make a promise to help him with it tomorrow, but in my heart, I don’t even want to think about tomorrow. It’s the last day Troy will be gone, and I’m not ready for him to return. Ever.

Before I know it, my eyes are closing and I’m lulled to sleep by the sound of Wilder’s breaths in my ear.

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