Page 20 of A Wilder Wedding

I set her on the bed and then I gently pulled down her leggings, taking her panties with them.

She lifted her arms as I took off her shirt and undid the clasp between her breasts. The bra fell, and I leaned down and sucked one rose-colored nipple in my mouth, then the other. Her breasts were small, but still filled my hands. Just the perfect size. She was the perfect size for me. As if we had been made for each other and I had been too fucking stubborn to let myself believe that.

“Tell me to stop, Naomi. I don’t want to hurt you. Not with everything that just happened.”

“Just stop talking for a minute. Please? I want your touch. Not his.”

She kept repeating that and I swallowed hard before kissing her again and continuing to make my way down her body. I cupped her breasts between my hands, letting myself take my fill as she slid her hands through my hair. I knew she liked the rough of my beard against her skin. But it would leave marks. Just like the marks that fucking man had made. But these weren’t the same. She wanted this as much as I did. This wasn’t like before. This wasn’t like anything. This felt familiar, as if we had been here countless times in ages past, and yet I was thinking clear. Maybe she thought I wasn’t, but I was. Because I wanted this. I craved this.

I kept kissing down her body, over to her wrists, gently pressing my lips against the red marks that would bruise. And when I kept kissing down her stomach, she arched into me. I pressed a kiss to each hip bone, licking my way along the creases.

She moaned as I spread her thighs and finally took a look at the center of her.

She was so beautiful. So wet and flushed.

I had tasted her before, had her coming on my tongue and on my hand and in every position possible. And yet this felt like the first time all over again.

It was funny. I couldn’t remember the last time we had been together. Because it hadn’t felt like a last time then. It had just felt like an every time. And maybe that was the problem. That we had taken for granted what we had. No, that was me. I was the one who had done that. And I was going to fix this. I knew I had to. And I would find a way to do that. But first, I needed her.

I lowered my head and began to kiss her, slowly, leisurely, spreading her lips as my tongue darted in and out of her pussy.

“Amos,” she whispered, rocking onto my face. I slid one finger deep inside her, then a second; she was so tight, and I knew soon I would be deep inside her, needing more of her.

But first I needed her to come, needed her to flush pretty pink all the way to those nipples as she writhed on my hand and my face. She tasted of sweet honey and everything I loved about her.

I wanted her to be mine. Only I had been too cowardly, too chickenshit to realize it in time.

I continued to kiss her until she was coming, whispering my name, and I knew she was back in the past with me.

We weren’t thinking of the future, weren’t thinking of the disastrous mistake we were possibly making.

But it didn’t matter, it was all I could do not to slide into her right then.

I had to be careful, I had to take my time with her. Something I hadn’t done enough of before.

As she lay there, still coming down from her orgasm, I quickly stripped out of the rest of my clothes and slid a condom on.

And then, before I hovered over her, I remembered.

She might not want me on top with everything that had happened. I slid onto my back and rolled her over me.

“Ride me. You make the choice. Always you, Naomi.”

Her eyes opened wide for an instant, as if realizing, before she swallowed hard and nodded. But instead of straddling me, she pulled me up to a sitting position.

“Together,” she whispered, and I wiped away a tear along her cheek, hating myself, but needing her in that moment more than ever before.

When she slid over me, both of us crying out in pleasure, her inner walls tightened around my cock. I held her close, my hand tangled in the back of her hair, her hands holding my shoulders.

And then we were moving, meeting thrust for thrust, need for need.

This didn’t feel real, and yet it felt like everything.

I would hate myself in the morning, but for now I would show her that I loved her.

Show her that I could be hers. Just like she could be mine.

But she didn’t say anything, instead she just met my gaze before closing her eyes and throwing her head back, pushing her breasts towards me. I sucked on one nipple then the other, and then she was coming, tightening around my cock, and I moved harder, faster. And when I followed her, I held her close, burying my head against her neck, whispering her name.

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