Page 73 of Setting Limits

A tiny arch in his direction is all it takes for him to lose control. Rough hands grab at my breast, twist into my hair and teeth latch onto my neck. His hips dip and his erection runs right along my clit.

“Wes, please.” I don’t have to say more. He knows exactly what I need, exactly what I want.

And it’s him. Every single facet and particle of him.

My shirt is suddenly and unceremoniously ripped off my head, and my pants quickly follow until I’m left in just my matching hot pink bra and thong. Wes takes a moment to run his hands down my body, biting his bottom lip as he admires his view.

But it’s short-lived before he’s tearing off his own clothes, doing that thing where he reaches behind his head with one hand that I adore oh so much. His muscles ripple as he climbs back over me, utterly naked. My panties are completely drenched at the mere sight of him.

Torturously slow, he licks and kisses his way up my legs, grabbing my panties with his teeth and pulling them down. On his way back up, he gently blows against my scorching skin before settling between my thighs.

His tongue slips right into my pussy, trailing up to swirl around my clit, and my fingers immediately twist into his dark tresses. Strong arms wrap around my thighs, and he not only pulls me closer, but prevents me from moving my lower body at all.

“Fuck, Wes. God, it’s so fucking good.”

In that moment, he stops, lifts his face and looks me dead in the eye. “I am your God in this bed.”

Instead of resuming with his mouth, he thrusts his fingers inside me, raising his body so that he can yank down my bra cup and suck my nipple into his mouth. I arch toward him and writhe below him at the sheer ecstasy that I’m feeling. My hands grip his shoulders, but he quickly pulls them from behind his head and holds them as high on the bed as he can reach.

“No more touching, sweets. I’m going to savor every inch of your body. I don’t want the distraction of your hands on me. Your nails can scratch me up once I’m deep inside you.” His words are a breath of air, and everything makes me want to feel him.

As though he knows what I need, he speeds his fingers, stroking me inside, and I know he’s aiming for me to orgasm from his hands before his cock. With his absolute expertise—at least where my body is concerned—he has me coming in seconds, my back peeling off the bed and twisting, the rest of me stuck under him.

Without letting my wrists free, he eases his hard length into me ever so slowly. “Fuck, I can’t get over how amazing this feels. Bad girl for making me wait. But oh, such a good girl for letting me feel it. I don’t know if I should punish you or reward you.”

“Maybe both.” I’m getting bolder. I’ve never been quiet or nervous in the bedroom, usually having to say what I want. But Wes is a different animal entirely. Far kinkier than anything I’ve experienced and never asks what I want, somehow either knowing or just doing what he wants, which works perfectly for me.

“I like the way you think. Though right now, all I care about is you and feeling your soft wetness dripping on my dick, how tight you are. The punishment and reward can wait until tomorrow.”

He says that, but then he starts thrusting into me so hard and fast it almostfeelslike a combo of the two. While fucking me relentlessly, he switches his hold on me, interlocking our fingers and pushing my hands into the mattress.

“I love you, Chelsea,” he pants.

The only response I can voice is a loud moan, quickly followed by a squeak. My mind is starting to go hazy, everything in my body tingling as my blood rushes through my body at such a rate that I can hear it echoing in my ears.

Mere moments later, I’m tightening around him, gripping his hands for dear life and screaming his name as I come. Two more thrusts, and he follows along, groaning as his face scrunches and he pulsates inside me.

“I—”

He doesn’t give me the chance to finish, stealing my lips with his and curling his tongue against mine. That’s when he finally releases my hands.

But he still doesn’t let me speak, instead holding one of his fingers against my mouth.

“Shh. You don’t need to say anything. I know how you feel. I know what you’re going to say. I know because I feel it here—” He holds a hand over his heart. “I’ve never felt it before, Chelsea, and it’s too intense to be one way.”

With a low dip, he brushes his lips across mine one more time before rolling onto his back. He immediately pulls me against him, my head resting against his chest. My ear is filled with my favorite sound: his racing heart.

“I meant what I said earlier, Chels. I don’t want this to affect anything. We have so much time together. And even if I go to Stanford, that doesn’t mean we’re done, because I couldn’t imagine that. To me, breaking up wouldn’t even be an option.” While his words don’t bring me much solace, his actions do.

He rolls me to my side, pulls me tightly to his chest, and peppers kisses along my jaw all the way up to my ear while he wraps himself around me.

Though it may be short-lived, I decide to lean into this feeling, this comfort, this love. Maybe if I’m good enough, if I’m better, he won’t leave. That’s always been the problem all along; I’ve never been good enough.

But while I lay here in Wes’s embrace, I do feel like enough. I feel his love, his need for me, his want for me. And it’s a choice I make to lose myself in it.

Chapter 36

MomandDaddon’tcall for Lochlyn’s birthday this year, and he holes away in the apartment with Shay for the weekend, canceling the dinner we had planned to take him to.

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