There will be no other for me. Never.
I needed to be with her like I needed to breathe. This wasn’t just about fucking her. This was about claiming her, making her mine.
She was the only woman who’d ever meant anything to me, the only person I saw a future with.
Zoey meant more to me than anything else I’d ever had in my life, and I was going to show her that, prove that to her until it was irrefutable.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zoey
This is really happening, and I’m not even going to try to talk myself out of it.
I was on the bed, totally naked, my legs spread, and Wilder staring at me like he was barely hanging onto his control, like he was starving, and I was the last meal he’d ever get. He needed his clothes off. I needed to see exactly what he was packing between his thighs. I could imagine by how big he felt against me, but I wanted to see all that flesh.
And as I stared into his eyes, I knew he was controlling himself with a tight leash, because he clearly looked like he was about to snap.
I didn’t have to tell him I wanted him just as naked as I was, because in the next moment, Wilder was moving off the bed only long enough to take off his sweats and toss them aside. The fact that he wore no underwear beneath the material had my heart jumping into my throat and a fresh gush of wetness leaving my pussy.
And then all I could do was stare at him and all the male prowess he revealed.
Every hard ridge and bulge of his muscles was shown in startling clarity, the muted glow from the bedside lamp casting shadows over the hollows and dips of his male physique. Wilder was so very big, tall, and hard all over… the epitome of what I envisioned a healthy, strong male would look like.
I let my gaze travel over his tattoos, the ink on his upper chest and arms, the ones I’d seen on his back. They all so artfully decorated his golden flesh yet made him look even more dangerous.
I let my gaze travel even lower until I was staring at the very big, very male part of him that was hard and standing at attention because of me. He had a short, dark trail of hair that started right below his navel and went down to his dick, almost as if those trimmed strands accented just how massive he was between his legs.
And Lord almighty, Wilder was fucking huge.
My mouth dried, and my throat tightened.
I wasn’t some dick expert in the slightest, but he had the biggest one I could have ever imagined. I was embarrassed by the thought that crossed my mind that because he was so thick and long, he couldn’t possibly fit comfortably inside me. He’d tear me up, stretch me to the point I wouldn’t be able to take it. Hell, I don’t even know if I could fit all those inches into my body.
But I want to try.
“Look your fill, baby.”
I snapped my focus up to his face, knowing I should have felt embarrassed he caught me checking him out, but all I felt was dark lust.
“Because I sure as fuck have looked my fill of you ten times over.”
A shiver wracked through me.
Wilder looked like a man who was ready to devour me. His eyes were hooded in the way that told me he was deeply, severely aroused. He looked feral. And when he slid his hand down his ripping abdomen to grab his big cock, stroking it a few times, my skin tightened in awareness. “You want this?” He kept jerking himself off from root to tip, his movements slow and lazy.
All I could do was nod like some greedy, hungry woman who’d never been full before.
He took a half step toward me. “I’m not the best man, Zoey, and can’t pretend I’ll ever be anything more than I am, so I want you to be really fucking sure this is what you want.”
If he was trying to talk me out of it, he’d come to realize I was, indeed, that hungry woman who’d never had her fill. And he was the only man who could sate my appetite.
I rose up just slightly, held a hand out to him, and whispered, “Come here, Wilder.”
I swore I saw his muscles tighten from my gentle command, but after a second, he walked that remaining step toward me, covered my body with his much bigger, masculine one, and I let a breath of pleasure leave me at the weight of him on me.
He ran his tongue down the side of my neck, and I tipped my head over more so he had better access, loving the feel of him licking me. It was as if he were an animal and he marked my body. I felt the hardness of his huge cock press against the softest part of me, and my inner muscles clenched over and over again.
I needed him inside me.
I was the one to claim his mouth now, the one to delve my tongue between his lips and take control. But that only lasted a second before he groaned and took the reins once more, showing me who was the true master here.
And I was more than okay with that.
“You have me,” he murmured against my mouth, and I didn’t know what that meant… how deeply those words went. He licked my bottom lip and then gently bit it. For long minutes, all we did was kiss. All Wilder did was fuck my mouth with his lips and tongue, showing me what he’d be doing with his cock to my pussy tonight. It was a prelude for what was to come.
I spread my legs a bit more, felt his length slide between my pussy lips, and then he started moving. Back and forth, sliding that girth through my soaked folds, the slickness of my arousal obscene as it coated his dick and made his movements slippery.
“Goddamn, Zoey,” he groaned against my mouth then went back to kissing me like a mad man, his hips seeming like they had a mind of their own as he thrust against me, fucked me without penetrating me.
Kissing Wilder, his big, muscled, and tattooed body covering mine in this blanket of flesh and power, and feeling his dick rubbing up and down my cleft, had me on the verge of coming. With each bump of his cockhead against my clit, I soared a little higher, broke open a little more. He broke the kiss and moved his mouth to the hollow of my neck, licking, sucking, and gently biting, his hot pants and deep groans telling me he enjoyed this just as much as I did.
And still, his hips pistoned against me.
And that was when I came for him.
I felt that tightening of my body, that tingle move up my spine and outward to my fingertips and toes. I was this cacophony of colors and sounds, lights and flashes… pleasure and pain. I arched my back, my breasts thrust out and brushing against Wilder’s chest, the pleasure consuming me. And still, he thrust against me; still, he suckled at my throat.
I was going numb from how intense it was, and I knew it was only the beginning. I knew Wilder would give me so much more. It was when the orgasm faded and reality came rushing back that I opened my eyes, realizing I was clutching him brutally. He stopped moving against me, and the gentleness I saw on his face, the look of pleasured wonder that he’d been the one to make me come, was written on his face.
He looked mesmerized.
I felt his chest brushing against mine rapidly, harshly as he breathed roughly.
“God, Zoey,” he growled, resting his forehead against mine, groaning softly. “The look of you getting off, the fact that I’m the one who gave you that ecstasy, makes me feel so… possessive. I lifted my hands and smoothed my fingers over his bulging muscles. The sheer power I felt under my fingers astounded me.
“We’re just getting started,” he grunted out, and before I knew what was happening, he flipped me onto my belly and smoothed his big, calloused hands along the length of my back and over my ass. He gripped my waist and hauled me up, so I was now on my hands and knees. I looked over my shoulder at him, feeling dizzy, knowing I’d pass out from the sensations moving through me if he wasn’t still holding onto me. He moved one hand up and down the center of my back again as if he couldn’t stop touching me then trialed a finger along the dip of my spine, causing my flesh to pucker in response and desire.