The first lick was slow. Exquisite. From bottom to top, tasting me like I was the sweetest thing he’d ever had. I cried out, fingers tangling in his hair, holding him there. He groaned against me, the vibration sending sparks up my spine.
He ate me like a man who’d waited a lifetime for this meal.
Licking. Sucking. Circling my clit with the flat of his tongue until my hips bucked. Then two thick fingers slid inside me—curling, stroking that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Wyatt—oh, God?—”
“Come for me, Sophie, babe,” he murmured against my folds. “Let me feel you.”
I shattered.
The orgasm hit hard and fast, rolling through me in waves that left me trembling, gasping his name like a prayer. He didn’t stop until I was whimpering from overstimulation, thighs quivering around his head.
I shifted beneath him, sliding one leg between his, and felt the heavy length of him drag across my skin. A low groan rumbled in his chest.
“My turn,” I said, breathless.
His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide. “Soph?—”
I didn’t let him finish. I pushed at his shoulders until he rolled onto his back, taking me with him. The satin of my dress was still bunched around my waist. I straddled his hips for a moment, just looking down at him—chest heaving, abs clenched, that thick cock lying heavy against his stomach, flushed dark and glistening at the tip.
God, he was beautiful like this. Vulnerable in a way he rarely let anyone see. The same boy who’d once tackled me into a pile of hay to make me laugh was now a man who’d carried wars on his back, and yet here he was, letting me have him.
I slid down his body slowly, deliberately, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the way—his collarbone, the flat plane between his pecs, the dip of his sternum. I paused to flick my tongue over one flat nipple, smiling when his hips jerked and a rough curse slipped out.
“God. Babe …”
I kept going. Lower. Lower. Until I settled between his spread thighs, hands braced on the hard muscle there. I wrapped my fingers around the base of him—hot, velvet-smooth skin over steel—and gave one slow, firm stroke.
He hissed through his teeth, head falling back against the pillow. “Fuck.”
I leaned down and licked a long, wet stripe from root to tip, tasting the salt of him mixed with the faint sweetness of my own arousal still on his skin. He groaned deep in his throat, one hand fisting the sheets, the other reaching for my hair but stopping short, like he was afraid to pull.
I didn’t give him the choice.
I took him into my mouth—slow at first, lips stretching around the thick head, tongue swirling over the slit to lap up the bead of precome there. He was big—bigger than I’d imagined—and the weight of him on my tongue felt perfect. Heavy. Real. Mine.
I hollowed my cheeks and slid down further, taking as much as I could until he bumped the back of my throat. His hips bucked once, involuntarily, and he cursed again—low, wrecked.
“Christ, Soph … your mouth …”
I hummed around him, the vibration making his thighs tense under my palms.
I loved this—loved the way his stoic control cracked the second I had him like this. Loved watching the muscles in his stomach ripple, the way his abs clenched every time I sucked harder. Loved the way his breathing turned ragged, the quiet groans he couldn’t hold back.
I bobbed my head, slow and deep, one hand stroking what my mouth couldn’t reach, twisting gently at the base. My other hand cupped his balls, rolling them lightly, feeling them draw up tight.
He was close—I could tell by the way his cock throbbed against my tongue, by the way his fingers finally tangled in my hair, not guiding, just holding on like I was the only thing keeping him tethered.
I wanted to see him fall apart. Wanted to feel him lose it because of me. Wanted to drink him down and know I’d given him this after all the years of waiting.
I sucked harder, faster, cheeks hollowed, tongue working the sensitive underside. His hips started to move—small, helpless thrusts he tried to control but couldn’t.
“Sophie—fuck—babe, I’m?—”
I took him deeper, relaxing my throat, letting him slide all the way in until my nose brushed his skin. He choked out a sound that was half moan, half plea.
But then his hand tightened in my hair—not pulling me off, but holding me still.
