Page 123 of Altius
“Always.” Leaving a trail of kisses from his neck to his ear, I whispered, “Now, do I get to blow you?”
“I have a better idea.” Wyatt tapped my hip. “As you were.”
While I repositioned myself on the wedge, Wyatt grabbed a bottle of lube from the basket of supplies tucked between the pillows.
“Remember what you said about my scent—how you’ve never wanted anything so much?” He uncapped the lube and applied a liberal amount to his straining length. “That’s me. Right now. Feel like I’m going to explode.”
He knelt behind me, torso draped across my back, hands braced on either side of my head.
“The desperation? It’s real.” Leaving open-mouthed kisses along my shoulders, Wyatt slid his hot length between my thighs. “Feel it.”
The friction wasn’t enough for me, so I pressed my thighs together, prompting a pleased hiss from Wyatt.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “Like that. Stay just like that.”
My folds grew slick with lube as his pace increased, trim hips and sculpted quads slapping against my flesh.
As I met his thrusts with a roll of my hips, the head of his cock nudged my clit, prompting thrilling zaps of pleasure to shoot straight to my toes.
Shifting to hold me by the waist, Wyatt deepened the angle of his movements, making more direct contact with my pussy and clit.
“M-more,” I panted, fingers clawing at the covers. “Wyatt, I want—”
He slapped my ass again, making me squirm with pleasure. As his fingers trailed down my outer thigh, I expected him to reach between us to tease my clit, but his hand fell away instead.
I wanted to protest. His hands belonged on me at all times.
But then, his fingers reappeared, glistening with sweat, a breath away from my greedy mouth.
Sucking on his fingers, determined to capture every trace of his boxwood essence, I moaned as his flavor swept across my tongue.
Wyatt leaned forward, pressing the entire length of his torso against my back. The fresh hit of his pheromones amplified his shallow flexes into lightning strikes.
And he purred.
I cried out, bucking at the sensation flooding the length of my spine, but Wyatt held me steady, teasing the entrance of my pussy with short, savage thrusts.
Long black hair brushed against the back of my neck. Sweat dripped onto my bare skin.
“Oh god,” I moaned, gripping the covers.
He laced our fingers together on top of the covers, holding my hands tight as he adopted a punishing pace.
“Ah—ahn!” I gasped, all logical thought swept away by pleasure.
My climax was a slippery, sideways thing, catching me off guard.
The sonorous, contented thrum that echoed from his chest into every far-flung nook and cranny of my body sent a second climax ricocheting through me.
“Got you, Morgan,” he murmured, still purring as he pressed kisses against my neck and shoulders. “I got you.”
“But—you…” Panting, I eased up onto my elbows and looked over my shoulder. “You didn’t finish.”
Wyatt shrugged, brushing sweat-slicked hair away from his face. “Wasn’t about me.”
“That’s not good enough. Not in this nest,” I said, dislodging the wedge and rolling onto my back, still trying to catch my breath. Grabbing the bottle of lube, I admired the tempting thickness of his knot and raised a brow. “Hands or tits. You choose.”
He tried not to look thrilled by my offer, dimples flashing. “Really?”
