“Zoey,” he murmured, his eyes still locked on mine. “The way you’re looking at me is very dangerous.” Wilder’s voice was low and rough, like sandpaper moving along my body.
I shivered.
I didn’t know what he meant by the dangerous part, but the erotic nature laced in those words told me maybe I did want to push him to see how far he’d take me.
“And what way is that?” I whispered, knowing I shouldn’t be poking the bear, so to speak, but a thrill moved through me that I was the cause of Wilder being so on edge, nearly losing his control.
I was definitely playing with fire, tempting a dangerous beast, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to stop or talk myself out of it.
He leaned in just an inch, so close I could imagine what it felt like to have his lips on mine again. “You know,” he taunted and looked down at my lips before slowly moving his gaze back up to my face. “You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you, Zoey.”
I gasped at the bluntness of his words, and my entire body tingled to feel what he could give me. He was so ruggedly handsome, so masculine and raw, that I wasn’t going to deny myself the one thing I wanted, the one thing I knew he wanted too.
I knew he was fighting this, maybe wondering if there would be repercussions, complications after we did this. I didn’t want to force him into anything. I didn’t want to force myself. But then again, I felt so out of control for the first time that I didn’t want to worry about anything but this moment.
I want Wilder as much as I can see he wants me.
I opened my mouth but didn’t know what I was going to say. Talk him into it? Push him further? But before anyone could say anything, Wilder made this gruff sound and pulled me closer, my chest slamming into his. I worried about his wound, but his groan of pleasure diminished any concern that I was hurting him.
We breathed the same air for long seconds, the sexual tension so powerful I felt it like a caress.
“I can’t stop, Zoey.”
I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. I was so out of my element. “Wilder,” I moaned, because that was all I could do.
“Christ, Zoey,” he growled and then slammed his mouth on mine.
A shocked moan escaped, and I held onto him tighter. Kissing Wilder was like falling over the edge of a cliff and not caring if I fell to my death.
The kiss was passionate and fierce, and when he pulled back far too soon, I mewled in protest. My lips tingled, felt swollen, and when I licked them, I tasted the spicy flavor of Wilder.
I wanted him to be brutal in his passion. I wanted that power, that strength that had me submitting to him in a very purely feminine way. And I knew Wilder was the only person who could evoke so many emotions and feelings in me. And God, I wanted to explore all of this until the very end.
I leaned in close, my lips barely brushing his as I said, “I want you.” The words were nothing but a whisper. I didn’t care how needy I sounded. “Be with me,” I moaned this time. Clearly, I wasn’t above begging for this. It felt like my body and mind were frenzied. I was ready to submit to these feelings.
Wilder was so tense for a long second, but then he groaned and kissed me. “I’m going to have my way with you, baby,” he murmured against my mouth.
God. Yes.
He pulled back and breathed hard. “I need to hear you say it.”
I was helpless against this very dominant, powerful man.
I swore I felt his cock jerked between my thighs, and I moaned internally.
Wilder would be huge when he was inside me; that, I had no doubts about. I ached to feel the stretch and burn of Wilder claiming me
“How wet are you?” His expression was so fierce.
“So wet,” I whispered, not even sure if he heard me. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you, Wilder.”
“Christ, Zoey, baby… you can’t say shit like that to me and expect me to control myself or be gentle.” We stared at each other, and he finally let out this deep sound from his chest. “I need to be gentle with you. I need to make this first time good.”
This first time.
He said that as if there would be more than one time. He said that with so much certainty I wanted to believe it so badly. A part of me did believe it.
I could look at Wilder and know he wouldn’t give me sweet and slow, gentle and easy. And that was okay, because I wanted him for him.
A dark look of possession and arousal covered his face, and I wondered if he could see how much I wanted him, if that was why he was hanging on by a thread right now.
“Tell me you want me, that you want this.”
I couldn’t breathe as I really let his words sink in, as I knew, thought, felt, and imagined what we would do and what would happen afterward.
“I want you, Wilder. I just want you.” I didn’t know how else to put this into words, how to acutely describe the things I wanted with him. It frightened me to even think them, let alone say them to another living soul. “Touch me,” I begged in the softest voice. We were alone, and we were doing this, going there with each other. I knew I didn’t have to elaborate on what part of my body I wanted him to touch, because the truth was, I wanted him to touch me everywhere.
He slid his fingertips along my shoulder, down my arm, and made his way to my breast. The mound felt heavy and full, sensitive. And when he had his big palm over the flesh, adding a tiny bit of pressure, I felt myself teetering on the edge of an orgasm. And then he added a bit more pressure, and a moan spilled from me.
“God,” he said on a shaky breath. “You fit me perfectly.” I felt like he spoke to himself, this wonder in his voice drawing my pleasure even higher.
I let my head fall back slightly, closed my eyes, and then I felt Wilder’s mouth on my now exposed throat. I could have gotten off from the feel of his teeth and lips on my flesh alone, felt my inner muscles between my thighs clenching painfully, wanting something big and substantial, something that would fill me up and stretch me to the point of pain. And I knew that was something only Wilder could give me.
Curling my hands around his wide, muscular shoulders, I dug my nails into his tattooed flesh, feeling his warmth, his strength. This was going to happen, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop it.
I lifted my head and forced my eyes open, and as I stared into Wilder’s face, his expression spoke volumes.
He was just getting started.
Chapter Twenty
Wilder
God, I couldn’t hold in my groan, and I knew the vibrations spread through her flesh at the side of her neck. I ran my tongue along her flesh. Fuck, she tasted sweet.
I flattened my tongue and ran it up the length of her neck over and over again, knowing I could’ve done this all night long, just tasting her, hearing her pleasure in the form of moans and gasps. Fuck, I wanted to memorize her body with my lips, sliding my tongue over every inch of her until I could paint her from memory alone.
I glanced down at her breasts, which pressed against the material of her shirt. They were firm, a handful, perfect for me in every way. I remembered the rock-hard little bead of her nipple in the center of my palm as I touched the mound, curled my fingers around her soft flesh. My cock jerked against my sweats, demanding to be free. I wanted to feel how tight she was, how wet I made her. Hell, I could have came right then if I kept this up.