Page 72 of Wilds of Wonder
“I knew you were gorgeous.” His lips twitched. “And I was right.” His face sobered. “Did you not listen to a word I said in the crypt or the forest? You’re the entire reason I was brave enough to become the Maverick Von Lucas. You’re my inspiration. My muse. I was in awe. But I was never ever laughing. Not at you, Emory.”
My heart squeezed, my body flooded with heat. Those were the words I needed to hear ever since I found out his true identity. To know I wasn’t just some joke to him, that maybe Maverick Von Lucas and the bone collector had more in common than I realized.
I’d never thought the day would come that my real name would be on his lips. Then it wasn’t just my name on his lips. He leaned forward and brushed his mouth against my jaw. I couldn’t move, so intoxicated by whatever was simmering between us, had been simmering between us for years.
“If you don’t want to talk, then maybe we can do something else,” he murmured.
Then I was turning my head, letting his mouth press against mine. His lips were soft, warm, so impossibly perfect.
“This is much better than talking,” I agreed and moaned against him as he deepened the kiss.
He probed my mouth open as his hands wound around my back, pressing into my slick skin, sliding down and cupping my ass.
Before I knew what was happening, I was wrapping my legs around him, his hard length pressed right against my entrance. Blood and frost, things had escalated so quickly. Then again, considering how we’d been dancing around each other for six years, maybe not.
The area between my thighs ached as our mouths moved together. I’d never felt anything like this. With my husband, it had been the same every time. I’d lay in bed, he’d roll on top of me, shove up my dress and push inside. A few pumps later, he’d be done.
If my husband had siphoned the light from me, Maverick was shining it back in. He was the light himself.
With every thrust of his tongue, every touch of his hand against my bare skin, I felt more alive than I had in years. His fingers slipped down below the water, and he dragged them up my slit, making me cry out against him.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I breathed.
Yes, yes, yes.
He rubbed up and down my center in slow, languid motions.
“Have you ever had an orgasm before?” Maverick murmured against my lips.
“Mm-hmm,” I gasped out as his finger swirled in a circle around my clit. “When I touched myself.” I could barely get the words out.
His lips went to my ear, and he nibbled at the lobe as he added more fingers, circling my sensitive bundle of nerves.
“What did you think about, little rabbit? When you touched yourself?”
I swallowed, knowing my answer immediately. I’d thought about a man in a cloak. I’d never pictured his face. Never needed to. Just his hands. Pictured them on me. Pictured the way they’d roam over my breasts, tweak my nipples, the way they’d slip under my own cloak, under my tunic. The way they’d slide down my legs and in between my thighs. Only I never could’ve imagined just how good they’d feel kneading the pleasure from me like he was doing right now.
His finger plunged inside of me, and I gasped. “What did you think about?” he asked again.
“You,” I said without hesitation. “I thought of you, of shoving that hood off your head, your cloak off your body. I thought of unlacing your trousers, letting you take me in the middle of whatever current challenge we faced. I thought of how it would feel if you were buried inside of me.”
“Fuck,” he said.
It was all true, even though every time I touched myself and came thinking about the bone collector, guilt had riddled me afterward.
“Good, little rabbit. So good.” He added another finger, pumping them in and out while his mouth went to my neck. “Because I thought of you too. Every single time I stroked my cock. Every time I came, it was you I pictured.”
My entire body clenched tight, sparks dancing in my belly, his words wringing the orgasm from me as it made my insides quake.
I cried out, unraveling around his fingers, my release rushing through me with his words. He captured my mouth again, holding me tight to his hard body while I became a puddle in his arms. I clutched tight to him, breathing heavy as my release ebbed, and all I could do was cling to him, mouth still pressed to his.
He lifted his head so I could see his face, his smile. “I never thought I’d get to hold you in my arms like this, to see your perfect face as you came apart. To be the one to make you come apart.”
I cupped his cheeks with my hands. “I didn’t either. I never thought this could be my reality. Not when...”
I trailed off, not wanting to mention my husband, not wanting to even think of him in this moment, but it felt like his was a presence I couldn’t ignore.
