Page 51 of Never Been Worse

Things with Jeremy went quickly as well. We met, we fucked, he told me he loved me in the first few weeks of us being together, showered me with gifts and attention and everything in between until I was in so deep, I couldn’t see the red flags. And that red-hot mix of lust andnewness disappeared quickly, but I survived on the warmth of it for so long until one day, I woke up alone, shivering and unsure of how I got there.

“But I know I’d really like to, uh,” I start, a blush burning on my cheeks, but I know if I want Wes to do anything, I need to speak it aloud. “Do stuff? Sleep together?”

He smiles and shakes his head gently, thumb brushing along the skin of my neck and sending a shiver through me.

“I’m not fucking you, Harper,” he says, and without permission of my head, I pout.

“Why not? We’re married.”

He lets out a laugh then before smiling softly like he finds me adorable. “Because I don’t want you to have a single doubt in your mind the first time you let me slide into you.” The merethoughtof that has a wave of heat running through me, and he pulls me inexplicably closer to him, his voice going lower. “That first time I fuck you, you’re going to know down to your soul I’m absolutely wild for you, not because we’re married or because you’re convenient or because you’re with me all the time. But because you’re mine, and I’ve been obsessed with you since that first night I met you.”

Somehow, he knows all of my arguments, all of my hang-ups, without me even speaking them aloud. It should be terrifying. But something about him knowing me this well is exhilarating; it solidifies something inside of me that I haven’t been willing to look at too closely yet.

“We can do other things,” I suggest in a whisper. He groans, then opens his mouth to protest, but I’m already moving to my tiptoes, closing the gap between us and pressing my lips to his.

Like every other time I’ve kissed Wes, the world melts away, and my senses come to high alert. Instantly, I’m hyper aware of the feeling of his hand on my lower back, of the scruff of his cheek under my hand, of the warmth of his body.

Just as quickly as I started it, he takes over the kiss, pressing my body into his and slipping his tongue into my mouth, tasting me and groaning. My heart skips at the sound, as if the mere taste of me turns him on.

He takes a step, forcing me to do the same until my back is to the wall, pinned there by his hard body, though I’m not complaining. My breaths become pants as his lips trail down my neck, as my head tips to the side to give him more room.

His hand moves, one thick, rough finger moving into the waist of the loose sweatpants I’m wearing and running along the stretchy band, teasing me.

“Yes,” I whisper, my hips moving toward him involuntarily and feeling his hard cock against my stomach. I tighten my hand on his nape, pulling myself closer and grinding against him. “Please.” I’ve never wanted—no,needed—someone the way I need Wes, but I can’t find it in me to feel anything but excited.

“We should stop,” he says, putting his forehead to mine, my back to the wall, our breathing labored.

My hand moves up his chest, hooking behind his head and tugging him close to me. “I want you to touch me,” I whisper. “I want you inside of me. I wantyou, Wes.”

“Am I just an itch to scratch?” he asks in a strained whisper, voice husky and breath hot along my neck.

“You know you’re not,” I confess, the words slipping from my lips, but it seems to be the right thing to say when he groans loudly.

“Fuck it,” he says, then dips his hand below the waistband of my sweats, over my belly, past my underwear, sliding to cup me. I moan loudly at the feel of his warm hand on me, in that intimate, needy place.

Finally.

It feels so fucking right.

His lips are on mine, and his hand is down the front of my panties, playing along the wet seam of my pussy as he devours my lips. His thumb moves, brushing over my already swollen clit, and I sigh into the kiss, shifting my hips to get more of whatever he’ll give me. He groans out a curse before his finger moves down, a single thick digit sliding into my opening and pulling a moan from me.

“I’m going to make you come, Harper, but that’s it. And I need you to know I’m making you come as your husband, as a man wholly consumed by you, not as some fake relationship itch that needs to be scratched.” His finger hovers halfway inside me as my hips try to move to get more. “I need you to know this is more to me, and whether you’re willing to admit it yet, it’s more to you, too. It always has been.” He slides in a bit more. “That’s why you said yes. That’s why you didn’t even hesitate when I asked you to marry me.” He sinks in deeper, and my eyes flutter shut.

“No, no. Eyes on me, beautiful. Keep those pretty eyes open while I finger you,” he says, and I groan, opening my eyes and looking at him, his eyes burning. When I lock my eyes on him, he slides his finger in deep, then pulls out before repeating the motion.

“Wes,” I moan. “I need…oh, God, I need…”

“I know, baby. I know. I’ll give you what you need.” His finger slides out, rubbing over my clit and forcing another groan from me. His lips tip up, still parted with heavy breaths, before he slides two fingers inside me this time, stretching me. “God, you’re so fucking tight, Harper. So wet for your husband, aren’t you?”

I nod, unable to say anything, todoanything other than focus on the pleasure building in my belly. He starts moving faster, fucking me quickly the way I want, the way I need, and it tightens in my belly, and my pussy tightens around his fingers.

“Fuck, Wes,” I breathe out. “I’m right there.”

“That’s it, baby. Fall for me, come for your husband,” he groans, his forehead to mine.

With his permission, I fall, spiraling as lights flash behind my eyes, though I keep them open and locked on Wes. He groans loudly, like my pleasure brings him pleasure, his fingers sinking in deep and his palm grinding on my clit, and aftershocks race through me. A year might pass as I come back down to earth, but Wes holds me the entire time patiently.

“Oh, my god,” I say. His smile widens at my words, and he opens his mouth to speak, but we’re interrupted.

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