Page 89 of Tempting Wyatt
“You like that, angel?”
“Yes,” I call out.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, um, sir?” I amend.
Who knew he’d be so commanding in bed? Me. I knew. Or my ovaries knew the minute they saw him holding that axe.
“Good girl.”
I don’t even have time to comment about him callingMittens that before me because he lashes a long, languid stroke of his tongue from my slit to my clit, and I writhe beneath him.
“Wyatt, please.”
I get a little smack on my swollen pussy.
“Please, sir,” I beg. I don’t even know what I’m begging for. To come, to be fucked, to be devoured.
He licks my clit hard and fast, up and down, then left to right, before plunging his tongue roughly inside me. Over and over again. The pattern repeats, then grows erratic as my back bows off his bed and I rock my pussy against his beard. It chafes my thighs in the most delicious way. Just like I suspected it would.
The onslaught of sensations is an intoxicating combination.
For a second, I wonder if I’m still asleep and my nightmare has morphed into a dream. But no dream could be this intense. I can feel every single cell in my body where he touches me.
The room spins around us as I cling to the comforter for dear life. My back arches off the bed, and noises escape my chest as I call out for him, for mercy, for release.
A thick finger presses inside me, spreading my inner walls apart. “So fucking tight. My cock is going to tear you in half, baby.”
Yes, please.
I can no longer form words, only nonsensical sounds of pleasure.
“Fuck my face, sweet, dirty girl. Come all over my tongue,” he growls against my slick skin, then sucks my clit into his mouth.
When he adds a second finger inside me, I fall apart.
It’s messy and intense.
Which pretty much describes my feelings for this man perfectly.
My thighs clamp tightly around his head, my juices run down his fingers, and my clit pulses rhythmically against his tongue. I ride out my release slow and hard, mewling like an animal in heat. Every muscle in my body tenses and tightens before melting into jelly.
I hear myself panting, but I can’t settle. My wild eyes meet his fiery gaze as he brings himself onto the bed beside me.
I’ve had orgasms before, but not like that. Never like that.
He manhandles me into his arms like I’m a lifeless rag doll. I’m trembling, coming down hard and fast from the adrenaline.
He breathes a sigh of relief, like he’s been waiting a lifetime to do that. But the outline of his enormous erection is visible through his jeans.
Damn.It’s always the quiet ones.
I press my body against it. “I could. . . we could. . . ”
“Go to sleep, angel,” he says in a gravelly voice.
“Are you sure? Wyatt, I want to?—”
