“Begging is always a good tactic,” he whispered into my ear before he sank his teeth into the spot where my neck met my shoulder.
I might have screamed, but the sound was lost to pleasure as he started pounding into me. His powerful thrusts lifted me up on my toes as I pushed my ass into him, silently begging for more of him. When the climax hit, he covered my screams with one hand while rubbing my clit with the other. If he hadn’t been holding me, I might have passed out from sheer bliss.
Before I finished pulsing around him, he pulled out, leaving me unsatisfied. But I should have known better. Lifting me in his arms, he walked me over to the bed and tossed me into the middle of it. At some point, he’d flung the covers back, so I landed in crisp, sweet-smelling sheets. Wyatt landed on top of me.
“I know what you need, Piper. But you have to ask for it.” His eyes were black with desire, and a wolfish grin tipped up the corner of his perfectly sculpted lips.
In answer, I pushed him up enough for me to tug my bra off, arching my back to offer him my breasts.
“Do your titties need my attention?”
“Yes.”
He tilted his head, aiming his ear at me. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, please.”
“I need more direction,” he teased.
The infernal man was a beast. But, God, did I need him.
“Please put your mouth on my nipples.”
He echoed my words from earlier in the night back at me. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Tugging one turgid peak into his mouth, he sucked me hard, exactly as I needed it. He rolled and plucked the other nipple between his thumb and finger, pinching and tugging until I thought I might lose my mind.
I ran the heel of my foot along his hamstrings as I writhed and undulated beneath him. He kissed his way to my other breast, giving it a similar treatment, working me over with his lips, tongue, and teeth. Shamelessly, I rubbed myself along his length, and he pulled off my breasts, his eyes stormy as he gazed into mine.
“Stop trying to take over, Piper. I’m doing the wrecking here, remember?”
As if to emphasize his point, he thrust his hard length inside me, shutting up my snarky retort on a scream.
“Wyatt! Oh, fuck, yes!”
When he started moving inside me, I knew the teasing was over. He pushed up onto his knees and pulled my thighs high around his waist. Leaning forward, he put his hands on either side of my head on the pillow and started driving. I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts, his name on my lips like a chant, like a prayer, on each one. When he sat back on his knees, his hands grasping my hips as he increased the speed, the angle pushed the head of his cock directly against my G-spot with each plunge, and I lost my mind.
His hands made their way to my breasts, squeezing and tugging while I left long scratches on the skin of his muscled thighs as waves of sensation washed over and through me. Shouting my name, he followed me over the edge, his body going rigid for a few seconds, the cords in his neck in stark relief as he swore at the ceiling, before thrusting a couple more times and falling forward on top of me.
For several long minutes, he flattened me into the mattress as the aftershocks rolled through us. Never in my life had I experienced anything like what Wyatt had just done to me. He’d promised to wreck me.
He’d meant it.
With each weakening pulse of my pussy around him, I feared he might have succeeded.
At last he rolled off me, tugged off the condom, and dropped it in the little trash can beside the bed. Lying flat on his back, he turned his head on the pillow and grinned. “I’ll sex you up wherever and whenever you want, but I’m going on record that my favorite place to get you off is right here in my bed.”
Something in his tone sounded distinctly boyfriend-ish, which in itself didn’t terrify me. What terrified me was that my initial response to the idea was positive. No way in hell was I letting myself become tangled up in another relationship with a popular, super-hot man—especially a football player who was surrounded by temptation on a daily, probably hourly, basis. After all, Charlie was popular around campus too, as an officer in his frat and for being in the school senate. Too bad his political skills didn’t extend to talking himself out of The Fuckery.
“Hey. Where did you go?” Wyatt’s quiet voice rumbled in my ear.
I turned my head on the pillow to find him right there. “Catching my breath.” I pecked a kiss on his lips to distract him from further discussion.
Though he didn’t pry, troubled shadows lurked in his eyes. He rolled back onto his back and caught my hand, his fingers rubbing over and through mine as sweat dried on our skin. The action simultaneously soothed and disturbed me, so natural and comfortable in a couple-y kind of way. I should have pulled away.
I needed to pull away.
I couldn’t let this man in. What was it about him that shattered my defenses?
