Page 4 of Final Down

I lift on my palms, no longer worried about the missing hook on the back of the bodice. I move my right hand into Wyatt’s hair, gripping the long waves and holding him to me as the first wave of pleasure threatens to knock me back again. He flicks his tongue against my pulsing pussy, forcing me to take every single incredible second that passes until I’m soaking wet and exhausted.

“I hope you saved some of that for my cock,” Wyatt says, running his forearm along his mouth to wipe away my wetness as he stands and tugs down his joggers and boxers.

“I hopeyousaved the important stuff for making a baby,” I say, unable to help myself from reminding both of us of the mission at hand.

Wyatt’s eyes flicker as his gaze hits mine, and my heart patters like a drum break. I don’t want to make sex feel like a job, but I can’t help constantly dwelling on the end goal. It’sallI think about. I want a baby more than I wanted to walk after my accident. Wyatt hates that it’s been a struggle for us, and he worries about how anxious it makes me.

His gaze drifts down the center of my chest as his hand wraps around his shaft. I fall back on my elbows, forcing myself to stay in the heat of the moment, to not drift back to the self-conscious thoughts about how my clothes fit, or ratherdon’tfit.

“I like this.” He doesn’t bring his gaze up to mine. Instead, his heated stare locks on the small cutouts on either side of the bodice that expose my pebbled nipples.

“Oh, this part?” I hum, lying on my back and circling my hard tips with my thumbs. I pinch myself on either side, pulling my tits up and letting myself enjoy the rush of pleasure.

“Yeah, I like that part,” Wyatt says, swatting my hands out of the way. He quickly tugs on my right nipple with his thumb and index finger, coaxing my back to arch again.

The tip of Wyatt’s cock brushes against my pussy as he pinches my nipple again, and I whimper loudly. I don’t even care who hears me. I’ve let myself get lost. I’m fully in this, not for the results but for the instant gratification. For the intimacy. For having this man who has only grown more chiseled, more worn, rougher, and rugged. Wyatt has me drunk with need, and I deserve to be. Right now, I’m nothing more than a woman whowants tofeel.And when Wyatt slides inside of me with a hard thrust, I . . . feel . . . everything.

“Wy!” I cry out as he rocks his hips, sliding out of me completely before driving in again.

“I need to touch you,” he growls, ripping the bodice open. The fragile hooks that I spent an hour trying to connect tear apart as he pulls the bodice down so he can cup my full breasts in both of his palms. His body leans into me, his hips thrusting as he swells inside of me, and I fall over the edge again just as my insides warm with his cum.

My fingertips trace the ridges along his muscular back, his skin sticky with perspiration as he pumps into me until he’s empty and exhausted. His heavy body pins me to the bed, and I wrap my legs around him to hold him to me for a few extra moments. I love it when he lingers inside of me, and yeah, partly because my mind wanders to the possibility of this being the moment our baby is made. But it’s also the familiar fullness he gives me, the perfect fit of our bodies together. The years have only made our bodies match one another more.

Wyatt lifts himself up, resting on his forearms as he presses his lips to the center of my chest. He kisses his way to my right breast, sucking on my nipple one last time and leaving it with a soft bite before blowing it cool.

My hands move to his jaw, cupping his cheeks as my thumbs feel along the rough stubble that carves around his chin. He lifts his head enough to meet my eyes, then turns his mouth into my palm, kissing my wrist.

“I may have ruined that top part,” he says with a playful wince. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It didn’t really fit anyway.”

His eyes squint as his head tilts a hint.

“Don’t do that.” He pulls his lips in tight and shakes his head slightly.

“What?” I know what—but it’s embarrassing to be called out for not loving your own body. Maybe embarrassing isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s painful. And I know his reprimand comes from a place of love, but it still causes a hard stop in my chest to hear it.

Wyatt crawls up my body until my shoulders and head are caged between his arms. He drops his forehead to mine, and my eyes flutter shut.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, and I force a smile on my face because it’s not his fault I don’t completely believe it for myself.

“Thank you,” I mutter, lifting my chin enough to press my lips to his.

Our chaste kiss lingers for a few seconds before my phone begins buzzing on the nightstand. I blink my eyes open as Wyatt pulls away, shifting to sit next to me. He grabs my phone and lets out a heavy sigh, turning it to flash Tasha’s photo my way.

“Hey, at least she didn’t call five minutes earlier. She’s getting better,” I joke, taking the phone from him and answering her call.

“Hey, Tash.”

I barely have time to get her name out before the words start rushing out of her. I smack Wyatt’s bare ass as he gets out of bed, and he rolls his shoulders and neck before shooting me a tempting glare.

“Don’t start the engine when you can’t drive,” he teases, his lips puckering for an air kiss as he makes his way toward our bathroom.

“Are you even listening to me?”

I roll to my side and move my phone to my other ear.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just talking to Wyatt.”

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