“Soon,” he says, bending down until his head is buried between my thighs. His tongue works me over and over again in long, filthy licks and flicks. My hands pull on his hair, and I writhe against his face.
“Tanner, please. I need more,” I plead, desperate to feel him inside me. “And I don’t want your hand.” He stands, pulling me in for another kiss.
“Pants,” he breathes out.
My hands find the button and zipper of his jeans. I undo them and then tug them down over his hips, freeing his shaft.
I line him up with my center, and he pushes forward in one motion. I take his cock until he’s flush against me. I breathe through the sweet pain from the tightness of the plug. We rock into each other over and over. Our hands exploreeach other’s bodies and weave into each other’s hair. Our tongues tangle and our teeth clash. Feral need pulses through me; with every thrust of his hips, tension builds at the base of my spine.
He sits up slightly, and his thumb finds my clit. He begins to rub purposeful circles, and we both watch the place we connect.
“Let go, Wren. I know you’re close, so let go. I want to feelmywild girl come all overmycock on top ofmybar.”
All it takes is one more thrust, and he catapults me over the edge. We both fall together as I moan out his name.
When we both finish, he helps me sit up a little straighter, kissing me gently.
I pop off the bar, grabbing my shirt. His eyes follow me as I walk to the bathroom. I’ve never felt more sexy or more desired in my life.
“Fuck,” he calls behind me, and when I look back over my shoulder, his eyes rake down me, no doubt eyeing the little jewel and his cum that’s dripping down my thighs. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he says.
“Yours,” I echo, turning, so I’m now walking backwards. I swipe one of my fingers through his release and bring my hand to my mouth. Popping my lips, I suck the salty liquid from the tip and throw him a wink.
“You trying to kill me?” he asks.
I giggle, pleased with myself, and then continue towards the bathroom to get cleaned up.
When I return, he’s still standing behind the bar, shirtless with his pants pulled up.
“Can I open my present now?” he asks, pouting his lip.
“So impatient.” I giggle, climbing back onto the bar and pulling my shirt over my head. “But I guess you’ve earned it.”
A wide grin spreads across his face, and he grabs the box.Pulling on the paper, he tears it away, and inside is a comic book titled:The Adventures of the Cheetah and the Dog.
“You made me this?” he asks.
“No, someone else you're dating did,” I deadpan.
“That’s not what I meant. I just meant that I can’t believe you made me a comic book.”
“You like it?”
“Like it? I love it. Also, your dog and cheetah blow my doodles out of the water.”
He leans forward, placing a chaste kiss on my lips, and then goes back to looking at the book.
“Well, I figured you needed your own doodles from me. I used all the Post-its you left me and tried to recreate our story. I’m no author, but I did my best, and all the drawings are mine.”
“It’s perfect,” he says. “You’re perfect. Will you dance with me?”
He takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. Tapping his phone, “Wild Thing” by The Troggs begins to play through the sound system, and he spins me around and around.
“I love you,” I say as he pulls me into him.
“I love you too, Wren,” he says, spinning me again.
EPILOGUE
