Page 39 of Wilder Love
I pulled away and knelt over her. “This… isn’t what you need.”
She pushed herself up on her elbows. “It is though.Please, Shane.”
I didn’t know what it was. The hope and the desperation in her voice. Her ocean eyes so trusting, like she actually believed I could make everything better for her. Or the fact that I was having trouble remembering why we weren’t supposed to cross these lines. The world she had been raised in was fucked up. What we had… what I felt for her… wasn’t.
Ask any man what his greatest weakness is, and if he’s being honest, he will tell you it’s a woman. Not just any woman. The one woman who is capable of bringing him to his knees. The one woman who has the power to destroy him. Rip his beating heart from his chest.Ruin him. I knew that Remy was capable of doing all those things.
My greatest weakness was, is, and always would be,her.
I wasn’t sure why I didn’t see the bright side of loving Remy. The sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. I just knew our love was never destined to be like that. And yet, here I was, an active participant in my own destruction.
“It’s cold. We’re on a beach.”
“Your big heart is keeping me warm. It’s perfect. We’re right where we need to be.”
Right where we need to be could get me arrested. It was reckless and careless and beyond stupid. But did that stop me? Nope. I was a thrill-seeker. An adrenaline junkie. I couldn’t do what I did for a living if I wasn’t willing to take risks, to push myself to the limits, and take a leap of faith.
But the prospect of sex with Remy was like going over the falls of a giant wave. The water pitches over the top with you in it. You’re weightless and it’s quiet for a while, but you know what’s coming and you think, oh shit. Next thing you know it’s like a grenade goes off right next to you. There’s a big bang and the water pressure squeezes you. You have no control over your own body. Arms and legs being pulled in all different directions. You’re tossed and turned and flipped around, all topsy-turvy. Then you hit bottom and you know which way is up and you swim toward the light and your head breaks through the surface and you try to breathe.
Yeah, it was like that.
15
Remy
It was wrong to ask this of him. I knew he had a hard time denying me anything I wanted. I knew it would tear him up inside, make him question his lack of judgement. But I asked anyway. I wanted him to put it all on the line for me. To give me something to believe in.
I pulled the blanket over him to cover us on our bed of cold, hard sand. We were alone on this beach. Under the stars and the moon, the waves crashing like cymbals, beating in sync to the rhythm of our heartbeats.
“I’ll wait for you,” he said, taking one last stab at trying to stop this before it went too far. “You’re worth the wait.”
Hearing those words, spoken with so much sincerity, should have been enough for me. The tortured look on his face, his heart and mind at war should have prompted me to push him away. But I was selfish. And I was greedy. I wanted it all. Right now. I wanted his everything.
“I want this. Us. Everything.”
His eyes searched mine as I undid his jeans. He hissed when I wrapped my hand around his cock, as if I’d done it hundreds of times before. It was hot, smooth and velvety, and hard as a rock.
“Remy,” he said, his voice strained. His eyelids fluttered closed, torment etched on his features as I gave it a squeeze and circled my thumb over the slit, catching a drop of pre-cum. “Fuck.”
He knelt over me and unzipped my jeans, pulling them down my legs with my underwear. Then he took off my boots and left my socks on so my feet wouldn’t get cold.
“This is so romantic,” he said as he pulled a condom out of his wallet and pushed down his jeans, so they were around his knees.
“I don’t want romantic. I don’t want easy. I just want you.”
He shook his head. “SOS.”
We laughed, and I watched in fascination as he rolled the condom over his erection. He settled his narrow hips between my thighs, his face hovering above mine.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured.
My heart thrashed in my chest.
The first thrust was almost too much. My body tensed, and I held my breath, trying to adjust to the fullness. He stilled. “Open your eyes, Remy. Look at me.” I opened my eyes and looked at his face. It calmed me. I loved his face, his hair tousled and messy, falling over his forehead, and his eyes locked on mine. “Now breathe.”
I breathed and relaxed my muscles as he rained soft kisses on my lips, my neck, my jaw. He started rocking his hips, moving inside me carefully and gently, like he didn’t want to hurt me. It almost made me cry again, this gentleness. My throat burned from holding back the tears, but if I let them fall, he would misread them and think it was because he was hurting me which he was, but not in that way.
My hands lifted to his face, and I rubbed my thumbs over his cheekbones. He looked down at me, his eyes hooded.
