Page 74 of I Found You
“Oh no,” I said when we broke apart for air. “The pastries you bought!” They fell out of our hands sometime a while back and were lying on the floorboards of the back porch.
“I’ll buy out the whole damn store. In an hour. Or two,” Wyatt growled.
Giggling softly, I pushed my fingers into his hair as he carried me inside and upstairs to the bedroom. I trailed kisses along his cheekbones, his jaw, and when I nipped at his ear, he made a feral sound that lit me up.
“Maeve,” he warned. “I’m trying to get you to a bed, but if you want me to take you right here on these stairs, I fucking will.”
“Keep walking.” My sweater came over my head, and I threw it over his shoulder. Wyatt took the last few steps two at a time. He threw me backward onto the bed, my body bouncing. Wyatt stood at the foot of the bed and stared at me, his chest rising and falling quickly. Without breaking eye contact, Ishimmied out of my skirt and tights, leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties. Wyatt’s pupils dilated as his gaze roamed over my body slowly. I reached behind my back to unclasp my bra.
Wyatt pounced on the bed and fit himself between my legs, pressing my knees apart with his thighs to make more room.
“I’ve got it,” he said. I removed my hand so that he could undress me. The clasps came undone, and he slowly moved the straps down my arms, freeing my breasts. He circled my nipple with his tongue and pulled it into his mouth on a suck. One hand was pressed into my belly; the other had found its way to cup my other breast, massaging it and pulling my nipples between his skillful fingers.
I laced my fingers through his hair. The feeling of his hand moving from my belly south toward my core was lighting me up. He moved his mouth to my other breast while his fingers wound their way under my panties. He circled around my lower lips, never landing quite where I needed him, so when his finger finally swiped through my slit, I gasped.
“Fuck my hand, doll. And after you fall apart, I’m going to fuck you with my tongue until you come all over again. I’m not going to stop making you writhe until you’re begging me. I am going to make you feel so good.”
Unconsciously, I must have started to rock against his hand. A flicker in the back of my brain wanted me to stop, concerned I would look too desperate, too wanton, too needy. But it felt too good to stop. And Iwasdesperate for him. Wanton. Needy. I needed all of him. I wanted him to see me desperate for him.
Just like he said he would, I came on a moan, his name on my lips, first from his fingers, then from his tongue. Boneless and sated, I lay on the bed, my arms pulled over my head. Wyatt trailed kisses up my stomach, my sternum, and across my collarbone before landing on my mouth.
His shirt had disappeared at some point, but he still had on his jeans. I grabbed his waistband and pulled him toward me so I could unbutton them. Sliding my hand down the front of his jeans, I wrapped my hand around his cock and swiped my thumb through the precum on his tip. He hissed as his hipsthrust forward, fucking my hand. He pulled away to quickly discard the last remaining articles of clothing. As he went to cover my body with his, I sat up and pushed him onto his back. As soon as he landed on the mattress, I was kneeling between his knees, holding him firmly in my grip. My tongue circled his tip, tasting him. I licked up his shaft and played with his head in my mouth, all while stroking him. When I suctioned my cheeks and felt him hit the back of my throat, Wyatt’s hands tangled into my hair, and he let out a loud, tortuous groan.
“Do that again,” he growled.
This feeling, of loving on him, of pleasuring him, of knowing I had the ability to make him fall apart just like he did to me, it was intoxicating.
Lick, stroke, circle the tip, suck him all the way to the hilt. Again. And again.
Pulling me off him, he gathered me in his arms and brought my mouth to his.
I lined us up and slowly started to drop myself down onto him. Wyatt’s hands held on to my waist, but he let me control the pace. I was done being slow and sensual though. I dropped down until there was no space between us and started rolling my hips. Wyatt’s hands were everywhere. On my neck, in my hair, on my breasts, on my waist. I loved how he couldn’t stop touching me. His thrusts met my bounces until we were both spent.
I rolled off him and onto my side. He framed my head in his hands, holding me in place. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something but then shut again. He closed his eyes, and his lips met mine in a kiss that stole my breath from my lungs. When he pulled back, he just grinned at me before getting upand coming back a minute later with a damp cloth. After he cleaned me up, he lay beside me in bed, caressing my curves and squeezing my ass.
“Wyatt,” I started, waiting for him to turn his gaze to mine, “I love you too. So much. It’s actually rather terrifying how much I love you.” I laughed.
His smile grew wider before he leaned over and kissed me again. “Say that again, Maeve.”
“I love you, Wyatt Wilder.”
“And I love you, Maeve Wilder.”
Laughing, I swatted his chest. “That is not my name,” I huffed in mock outrage.
“Yet.” Wyatt smirked and winked.
I liked the sound of that. It was still too soon, and we had some things that we needed to figure out first. But one day, maybe I would be Maeve Wilder, wife of Wyatt.
32
Maeve
Saturday mornings were easily my favorite time of the week. I got to wake up slowly, usually to Wyatt’s hands on my body, or his mouth on my skin, or his erection eagerly pressed against my butt. It didn’t take long for me and Wyatt to find our rhythm during the workweek. Each morning, we woke up in a tangle of arms and legs, and then Wyatt would start coffee while I showered and got ready. We would leave together, me to head to work, Wyatt to head home to start his day.
He really should leave some things at my place or pack an overnight bag, at least. Besides the mornings where he would go home to shower and get dressed, he was always at my place. We ate dinner together every night. He would watch TV while I reviewed the day’s assignments or upcoming lesson plans. Ever since we made up, we hadn’t spent a single night apart.
But Saturdays were for sleeping in and cuddling. Apparently, not this Saturday though. Instead, I was woken up by my phone vibrating on the nightstand before I could even open my eyes.
