Page 67 of The Hearts We Fumble
“Oh God,” she moans, her head rolling back, her fingers tangling in my hair. She tries to push me closer, guiding me to where she wants me most, and I chuckle against her thigh.
“Does that feel good?”
“Yes,” she gasps. “Yes, it does. Quit teasing me already.”
I flick my tongue against her pussy lips, just enough to graze her but not where she’s aching for it.
“Fuck, Zane. Please.”
Her grip tightens in my hair, nails scraping along my scalp, and she tries to slip her free hand between us, reaching for her own clit.
I grab her wrist and yank it away, shaking my head.
“Nope. I don’t think so, baby.” I press a slow, lingering kiss to her swollen folds. “This is mine. And I’m feeling very possessive.”
Her breath stutters, her thighs quivering against my shoulders.
This time, when I brush my tongue over her clit, she keens, a long, throaty moan ripping from her lips.
I chuckle, gripping her hips to hold her still. “You have to keep quiet, firecracker,” I murmur against her. “Unless you want your mom walking in and catching us.”
She glances down at me, her eyes blazing with heat as I lean in, flicking my tongue through her folds. The moment I latch my lips around her clit and suck, her body jolts, her back arching off the bed as a muffled cry slips past her lips.
Her thighs tremble against my face like she can’t decide if she wants to pull me closer or push me away.
I don’t give her the choice.
Pinning her legs to the mattress, I devour her, desperate and wild, like I’m a starving man and she’s my last meal. I could stay here forever, buried between her thighs, never coming up for air.
Wyatt throws an arm over her mouth, trying to quiet her moans, but I don’t miss the way her body tenses and her hips roll, chasing more.
When I finally pull away, she whimpers, breathless and desperate. Crawling up the bed, I settle between her legs, and she instantly hooks them around my waist, lifting her hips and urging me closer.
I smirk, dragging the thick head of my cock through her slickness, watching as she shudders beneath me.
“Zane, please.”
“Please, what?” I tease, trailing my mouth along her jaw, waiting for her to give me what I need to hear.
Her fingers grip my biceps, nails digging into my skin. “Fuck me.”
My sweet Wyatt. My firecracker. I love listening to her talk dirty, love the way she says those words just for me.
“This little pussy is so greedy,” I murmur, giving her a light slap between her thighs, feeling the way she clenches around nothing.
Her lips part on a strangled gasp, her teeth sinking into her fist to stifle the sound, but I catch the way her hips lift like she wants more.
Watching between us, I position myself at her entrance, pressing the thick tip against her heat, and slowly push inside. Inch by inch, I sink into her, groaning at the way she stretches around me, taking me so perfectly.
She lifts her hands, cradling my face as I hover over her, chest to chest, arms braced beside her head.
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
I brush my lips over hers, and she sighs into my mouth, rolling her hips, taking me even deeper.
“If you keep doing that, baby, I’m gonna come,” I admit, my forehead pressing against hers as I try to catch my breath. “You’re so tight. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last.”
Her legs tighten around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. “Come in me,” she breathes. “Make me yours.”
