Page 74 of Sweet Escape
I slide my hand up her bare arm in a soothing motion. “I don’t want you to regret this.”
“I won’t.”
“We still have to live with each other, and I don’t think I could stand it if you regretted it.”
“I’m telling you, I won’t. Please, Wilder.” Her brows knit together, and she bites down on her bottom lip.
Sensing the self-doubt rising inside her, I say, “I want you, Liv. God knows, I do. So fucking badly, but I won’t take you if this is just a quick fuck to forget him. He doesn’t belong in anything that happens between you and me.”
“I wantyou. I want to remember what it’s like to feel cherished. I’ve never had it with anyone else. Only ever you.”
I glide my fingertips over her temple, sweeping away a lock of hair that’s escaped from her bun, until my hand slides around the back of her head to cradle her neck. She blinks slowly, arching into me, her lips ghosting over mine.
It’s not enough.
I twine my fingers through her hair, taking her head in a firm grip, pulling her to me. Our ragged breaths mingle for a moment before I slant my mouth over hers, tasting, devouring, savoring all that she is and all that we could be if we let ourselves surrender.
Her soft hands cradle my face, stroking my beard in an almost reverent way that has my stomach tied up in knots. Somehow, the kiss is both messy and achingly sweet.
“I missed this,” she murmurs, her words escaping on a breathy sigh, eyes closed and cheeks flushed. I cup her face, smoothing my thumbs over her cheekbones, placing a kiss over the beauty mark that sits on her right cheekbone.
Her eyes snap open at the unexpectedly tender gesture. “I didn’t realize—God, Wilder. What are we doing?”
“Worshipping you, Pretty Girl. Showing you what it should feel like when you’re with the right person.” The words are out before I can rein them back in, and I don’t want to. They’re honest, raw, and real; they’re the truth I’ve held back for months. I haven’t been willing to acknowledge the depth of our connection, and because of that, I’ve stoked some doubt in her. She has no idea just how easily I could fall for her if I let gravity take me.
My fingers tangle in her crop top, knuckles brushing her belly as I lift her shirt over her head. She raises her arms in submission, allowing me to undress her right in my kitchen.
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I lean forward, my lips caressing her collarbone and down to the swells of her breasts, fuller than ever but no less perfect. She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, baring herself from the waist up.
Olivia Sullivan is a work of art. Every stretch mark, every dip and curve, every dimple and beauty mark. Each imperfection adds up to this gorgeous woman who’s so willing to give me everything. I don’t deserve her, but fuck if I’m not going to take it all.
I snag my fingers in the waistband of her shorts. “Lift your hips.”
She complies, and I carefully slide her shorts down her legs.
“Fuck. You’re trying to kill me,” I murmur, taking in her bare pussy against my countertop, already wet for me. “Feet up on the counter. I’m fucking starving.”
I unbutton my jeans to give my cock some fucking breathing room and sink onto one knee as she parts her thighs, her feet planted firmly on the edge of the island. “Look at this pretty pink pussy just waiting for me like my favorite goddamn dessert.”
Her breath hitches as I lean forward and lick her from her opening to her clit and back again. I look up through my lashes, and the sight has me nearly coming in my pants—her head thrown back, one hand braced behind her while the other tugs on her nipple, her ample breast spilling out over the side of her hand.
Wrapping my lips around her clit, I suck hard eliciting a cry of ecstasy, I slip my middle finger inside, curving upward at a slight angle. “You like that, Pretty Girl?”
“More. I need more.”
She moans as I slide a second finger alongside the first, following the same pattern. My other hand squeezes her plump ass. I want to see her bent over and begging for my cock. I want to watch her writhe and moan beneath me as I fill her over and over again, only to pull out and come on her ass, marking her. Claiming her. If she could hear my thoughts, would she think I’m depraved? Would it be too much for her? Fuck, I want to tell her my every fantasy, every thought I’ve had since the day she walked back into my life carrying my baby.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful like this, all spread out for me like a feast. Need you to come undone for me. Need to hear you scream my name so the whole ranch hears you.”
“Wilder. I’m so close.”
“I know, honey. It’s alright. Let go. I’ve got you.”
Her chest heaves with each stroke of my tongue. I insert a third finger, stretching her wider, and suck her clit between my lips one last time as she clenches around me, her thighs convulsing from the pleasure. My name on her lips has me gripping my cock, squeezing so I don’t finish before I can get inside her. When she comes down from the high, I lift myself off the floor and help her down from the counter onto shaky legs.
“I’m not done with you yet. Bend over and show me that gorgeous ass.”
A small smile tugs at her lips. She bends at the waist and glances over her shoulder, and I wish I could take a picture to remember this moment forever. Our ragged breaths combined with the sound of my belt buckle hitting the floor as I shuck off my jeans create an erotic soundtrack in the quiet kitchen.
