“Fuck, baby, I’m not going to last,” he said, picking up tempo. His thrusts arrived faster. The smack of skin to skin, the combustible heat burning between us, and the scent of sex and sweat lingering in the air all coiled around me, holding me captive. My palms were a sweaty mess, and I started to slide against the surface the table, but Wyatt’s grip held me steady, as if I were just a rag doll, draped forward to get fucked. My balls ached, and with the way pre-cum dripped from my cock, I knew I was making a mess on the floor. I needed to come so damn badly I was losing my mind.
“Close,” I gasped out.
“Thank fuck,” he rasped and wrapped a hand around my cock.
He didn’t stop his steady thrusts, and the explosion of bliss with each one had me barreling closer and closer to release. When he began to stroke my cock in time, my cries grew deafening.
All that existed was the thrust of his length inside me, the sting of the collision, and the symphony of our sounds. The tension inside me coiled so tight it grew painful, my balls throbbing.
A few strokes from his firm grip, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. My balls drew up, and a shout escaped me as I came.
My orgasm stole me away with a blinding force, to the point my vision blanked, my whole body seized up, and my cum shot from me onto the tiled floor. I soared on the sensation, the violent burst of pleasure sending me straight into the stratosphere. I’d never experienced such a high before, such sheer and total abandon.
A second later, Wyatt’s cry pierced the air, and he stiffened behind me, his cock pulsing with his release.
For a few moments, we remained there in stasis, our breaths circulating through the room. His grip on my hips eased, and he plasteredhis sweaty chest against my back. My arms trembled, and I collapsed forward, slumping over the table.
Wyatt pressed an absent kiss against my sweaty nape, and my heart fluttered.
Damn, I was getting in far too deep.
“You know, that’s always been a fantasy of mine,” he murmured, his breath puffing against my skin.
“What?” I asked, the words coming out slurred.
“Fucking someone against furniture I made,” he said, continuing to press more kisses along my neck, my shoulders.
I stared down at the polished wood grain beneath me, the sturdy table that had withstood him railing me into it. The realization he’d made it with those strong, capable hands—yeah, that fuckingworkedfor me.
“I don’t want to pull out,” he said, scraping his teeth against my shoulder. A shiver rolled through me. “Just gonna stay parked here all night.”
“Might get kind of awkward,” I teased back.
“You’re addictive,” he said, pressing another absent kiss to my nape. My heart ached, and damn, I wasn’t ready to face the reality of these emerging feelings.
“You can keep running your hands all over me…in the shower,” I said. “Maybe go for a round two?”
He slowly pulled out of me, and I missed the fullness at once. Wyatt helped peel me up off the table, and then he tied off the condom and lobbed it into his trash can.
“I’ll take any excuse to get my hands on you, but I can’t make any promises for my refractory period. Not in my twenties anymore.”
“Fine.” I waggled my brows. “I’ll get off, and you can watch.”
“Oh, fuck yes,” he said, wrapping his steady hand around mine. He led us in the direction of the bathroom, down the hall of his apartment, and I followed. My heart thumped steadily in my chest, the adrenaline beginning to creep up all over again.
The tension that had percolated between us exploded, and that should’ve been my cue to head out in the morning and move on.
New conquest, new bed, new cock.
However, there was one massive problem.
I didn’t want to.
Wyatt had burrowed under my skin, and now that I’d had him once, I craved more.
Chapter fourteen
Wyatt
