Shay is already waiting. “Are we out?” she gauges, trying to decipher my plan of action.
I nod, striding toward the door. I hear the belabored temper tantrum of Samantha and the muffled curses of the guys behind me.
“She’s really stale with her lack of self-awareness and ability to read a room,” Shay expresses.
Sighing, I reply, “Exceedingly so. I don’t know that I’ve actually ever met someone so clearly obtuse.”
“Oh, if there’s one thing Samantha Davenport isn’t, it’s obtuse. She knowingly pushes herself into every situation. It’s her entitlement that’s the issue,” Shay expounds.
I nod, entirely in agreement. Samantha is more conniving than I think we give her credit for. She definitely wears the ‘I want it, and I want it now,’ a real Violet Beauregarde.
We step out into the crisp air, and I shiver. With December fast approaching, it’s starting to feel like winter here in New England. Raising my arms, I try to warm my goose-pimpled skin, kicking myself for trying to be cute instead of practical and wearing a coat.
The warmth of a coat and strong hands envelop me as the scent of black coral and moss fill my nostrils. The undertones of lavender make me inhale a bit deeper.
“We’re going to have to work on you taking care of what’s ours, Dove,” Lev’s deepvoice sing songs in my ear, renewing the chill in my body, this one not from being cold.
My lips lift into a smile as I allow myself to stand in the heat of his body. I want to touch him but don’t want to push him, especially not in front of so many. “And let me guess. You’re all going to ensure I do just that, right?” I tease.
Owen tugs me from Lev’s hold. “That’s exactly right, and you’re not going to fight us on it either,” he murmurs, nipping me on my nape before spinning me around. “Or— maybe you will, and then we can have even more fun.” A wry grin paints his face, the left side of his mouth quirking up. “Oh please, please, please fight. I do enjoy a good game of cat and mouse.”
Pecking his lips, I push against his chest, slipping from his grasp on my waist. “As long as you all know that I’ll be the one doing the hunting,” I smirk, looking each of them in the eyes. Wes still looks uncertain of how he should interact with me. I can almost see his brain trying to decide if he’s allowed to join in on the banter or not. He can stew for a bit longer. I can only tolerate certain levels of asshole, and his still needs some work.
Turning around, I start walking to the car, enjoying their commentary on how I could never outsmart them.
“Keep sleeping on my girl, and unnuh will be left chasing your tails,” Shay jokes, and we both burst into laughter as we reach her car.
We say our goodbyes. Then I turn to head toward where Thomas is parked. Owen attempts to pull me back into him, but Wyatt’s hand smacks his out of the way.
“Uh-uh. She’s all mine tonight. I’m not sharing.” Wyatt declares.
“That’s cold-blooded, but I respect it.”
I’m about to argue on my behalf when Wyatt grips my hip, pulls me into his chest, and presses his lips to mine, dissolving all protests.
“You can be up in arms about your right to choose after I’m through,” he mumbles against my lips, slowly disconnecting where they’re joined together.
* * *
We barely makeit to Wyatt’s room before we’re both pulling off our clothes. Items dot the floor like a trail of breadcrumbs, leading straight to our tangled limbs.
Wyatt kisses a trail up my stomach.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to have you alone— all to myself, Love?” Puffs of air caress my skin as he makes his way down between my legs. His arms spread my legs open, giving him a perfect view of my wet pussy. I can feel myself dripping in anticipation. His tongue licks a slow ascent, stopping to whirl circles around my clit before sucking it between his teeth. The sensation wreaks havoc on my senses, and I moan when two thick digits slide in.
Wyatt pumps his fingers at a frantic pace. His suction on my clit is relentless as I barrel over the edge.
“Fuck!” I shout. “Please…condom…now…inside me.” I babble with some semblance of coherence between gulps of air, and in less than a minute Wyatt’s rolling a condom over his piercings and slowly seating himself in my pussy.
“I’m not going fast tonight, Riri. Tonight, I’m going to wring every ounce of pleasure you have to give me and then take a little more.” He groans between each languorous stroke. Each drive is purposefully teasing.
If he doesn’t move…
I whine a sob, a cross between frustration and satisfaction when his waist swivels creating just enough friction to graze my clit with his pelvic bone but not enough to give me what I’m seeking. I’m so tempted to take control.
As if seeing the thought play across my mind, Wyatt rocks his hips back, leaving just the pierced crown of his shaft inside me before driving back in deeply. A scream gets caught in my throat as he sets the pace.
“I’m in control.” he growls, then switches his movements again, so he’s now hovering over me as his hips languidly roll. His hand reaches up and palms my breast, rubbing my nipple between his fingers as he lowers his mouth, grazing the hardened peak before biting it.
