Page 73 of Training the Heart

“Wade … please,” I beg.

“Please what, Ivy? Let you come?”

“Yes, please, Wade … please,” I whine, almost in tears.

I feel his lips turn up into a smile against my back. “Not yet, baby.” His lips graze my ear and my breath stops as he whispers, “This is what heaven feels like, let me take my time.”

Oh God. Sir. Yes. Sir.

He groans as he continues to circle his hips within me.

For how long? Who knows? Every time Wade bottoms out in me he stays longer, at a slow steady pace to drive me fucking insane as his finger finds my clit. A sort of floaty haze takes hold of me. One small stroke against my aching bud of nerves, and the jolt of pleasure and need has me tightening around his cock, begging him to spill into me and let me come in return.

I moan and whimper as he uses his free hand to finally untether me from the wall. I fall, my back into his chest in a boneless, sweaty heap as he holds us both up and circles my clit, sliding his other hand up to my throat, turning my face to cover my lips with his own, absorbing my cries in a sloppy, aggressive kiss while I spiral out of control.

I never thought sex could be this natural, this unhinged. I want him to dominate me, to hold me down and have his way with me, whatever that way may be. With each thrust, Wade goes deeper, harder. The sound of my own arousal and the in-and-out of him fucking me is pulling me further and further into the abyss of Wade. My mouth falls open in a soundless cry.

“Fuck, Trouble, when you whimper like that, I can hardly take it, you take my cock so fucking well.”

I can’t contain the sounds that leave my lips as he stops moving, buried to the hilt in me. I try to move but his strong hands hold me in place, one at my hip, the other around my throat.

“Remember when I said I would make you suffer?” he asks, moving again.

God, I want to die like this.

“Yes,” I whine.

“Do you think you’ve suffered enough?” he asks.

“Yes. Fuck yes, Wade … please,” I say.

“You want to come?” he asks in a whisper as he completely stops moving. My pussy pulses around him as he does. “Then beg me. Beg me to paint your insides with my cum, Ivy.”

“Please …” is all I manage, trying to move in any way I can, but he’s too strong, holding me too tight.

“Please, what? You always have so many fucking words, use them. Make me believe your plea,” he says as he draws slowly out of me.

Oh God.

“Please … fuck … please, let me come … Wade …” I whine. I take as deep a breath as he allows. As his hand grips my throat tighter and dots spread across my vision I realize what he wants so I give it to him. I’d give him anything right now. I whisper, “Mercy …”

The groan that comes from his chest is approval.

“Such a good fucking girl, Ivy,” Wade growls as he somehowgrows even more inside me and pinches my clit—once, then twice—as I’m combusting from the inside out.

I come with a cry that Wade absorbs with his own lips, allowing me small bursts of air to keep me from passing out as he falls apart with me, biting me on the shoulders, my neck, my lips, anywhere his mouth can connect.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “There isn’t anything more beautiful than watching you come all over my cock.”

A single tear escapes my eye while he comes, then mercifully, he releases his hand. I inhale fully as a whole-body shudder consumes me. Wade wraps his strong arms around me tight and tenderly uses one finger to shift my face back up to his, kissing me gently on the lips, massaging my marked wrists with his other hand as if he’s making sure they’re okay.

“Heaven.” He mutters the single word as a statement, a label.

Yes,if this is heaven, I never want to come down to earth.

Thirty minutes later, we have ourselves put back together and the horses in their stalls for the night, when Mama Jo rounds the corner of the main barn, in full riding gear and a cowboy hat.

“Evening, Mama,” Wade says.

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