Page 53 of Unhinged Magic
Over and over, he slid between my lips, his jaw tightening, then flexing. I didn’t want to stop, because seeing him this way, unguarded and raw, did things to me. Angsty, needy things.
He gripped my shoulder, brow fixed. “You need to stop, or this is going to end too quick,” he rasped, tugging at my arms to pull me up again.
He swiped his thumb across my lip, admiration taking hold of him. “You have the mouth of a god,” he murmured, before kissing me fiercely, devouring my mouth with a kiss so potent that, if he wasn’t holding me against him, I feared my knees would buckle.
I was dizzy under his spell, his mouth, his tongue, the way his arms held me in this possessive yet gentle way. I was done for. After this, I would crave the touch of only one man for the rest of my life.
He pulled back, the tips of his fingers tracing a line down to my jaw. He tipped my chin up to him, holding me captive in his stare. “I wish you could feel the mate bond the way I do.”
I clawed my fingers into his shoulders. “One day I will,” I said, trying to convince both of us I was okay, thatwewere okay.
He nodded. “Let me take care of you.” His head bowed slightly. “I want to learn what you like, want to take my time with you.”
I could no longer hide the erratic rise and fall of my chest against his. My nerves shot to pieces completely. A look passed between us, silent acknowledgement. An understanding of both consent and desire slowing his next movements, turning it into something more sensual.
His fingers curled against the underside of my top until they found flesh, the warmth of his hands pressing into my sides, heating my skin. I gasped at the contact, previously caged butterflies now escaping their confines and flooding my stomach. As he gathered the material in his hands, lifting it over my head, my breath stifled in my chest. He hungrily eyed the plain black bra I had chosen this morning, covering my barely-there breasts. When they moved south, they hovered over the protective wrap covering my tattoo, lingering before moving to the top of my jeans. I couldn’t stop watching his hands as they undid them. The way they flexed and moved as he slid them over my thighs until my pants dropped to the floor. He helped me step out of them, looking up at me from below, irises molten. Standing in my underwear, I felt completely exposed.
I hadn’t told Wesley he was the first man to see me like this. The first man I had taken into my mouth. I had fooled around with guys before, but nothing like this. I hated that he was soexperienced, and I was not. It had every edge of my nerves unhinged and twisted in knots.
Wesley went to stand, the slide of his hand as it travelled up my calf, then over my knee, holding my attention as he did so. His gaze slid over every inch of me until they landed on mine again, our foreheads rested together.
He released the clasp of my bra, and cold air hit my breasts.
His demand came out low, but it reached me as an invocation. “Eyes on me,” he murmured. I did as he asked, finding enchanted green orbs swelling with awe. “There’s my girl.”
Gathering his top in my hands, I pulled him close, pressing my lips against him, for if I didn’t, I was scared he would knoweverything. My inexperience, the nervous tremor in my hands every time he looked at me the way he did.
Our kiss turned my insides out.Oh, how this man could kiss.
His tongue lapped mine as he lifted me into the air, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked us to the bed where wefell,tangled limbs giving way to hungry hands. He discarded his top, and I couldn’t stop touching him, fascinated by how soft he felt under the palm of my hand. Every part of me wanted him. The throbbing at my core, a constant ache only he could mend.
His fingers slid into the front of my panties, diving between my thighs, one finger, then two, pushing into me.
I drew in a gasp as his fingers slid out of me again, gliding through my arousal before circling the most sensitive part of me.
His lips scraped my ear. “You’re soaked for me, Skip.”
Skip.
When he said it likethat, I could get used to it, learn to like it even. “Say that again,” I whispered.
Wesley pulled away, never stopping the spine-gripping roll over my clit. “So wet,” he murmured.
“Not that,” I whimpered as his touch intensified, zoning in on where I needed it most. I was dizzy,drowningfrom both his touch and the severity of our connection.
He lowered his lips until they dusted mine ever so slightly. Sex drenched his tone. “Skip.”
That name.
Something I had previously detested, now burned deep in my core in the most exquisite way. Maybe this entire time I had secretly liked it.
His mouth claimed mine, harder this time. Potent and demanding. I couldn’t speak, barely noticed the slide of my panties until they were at my ankles.
He lifted my leg, his lips finding my ankle as he moved closer, resting it to the side to expose me to him.
I would surely die of embarrassment.
Wesley looked starved, a hungry man ready to devour me.
