His fingers slide inside me, and I’m so wet that we both groan.
“That’s right, my slutty elf.” He works his fingers in and out of me as his tongue paints circles around my clit. “The demon bitch from my nightmares. The woman I dreamed about for years. My brilliant girl, my other half.”
He wraps his lips around my clit and sucks again, and I press my palms into the mattress as the orgasm fully overtakes me, babbling, “Wyatt, yes. God, that’s good, you sweet man. You good, kind, brilliant evil genius. Fuckkkk.”
He strokes and licks me as I come down, but it takes a little longer to regain the ability to hear. When I do, it sounds like he’s been talking to me the whole time.
“My heart, my whole heart,” he’s saying. “Call me any names you want as long as I get to hear the sweet names too.”
“Come here,” I gasp, and he crawls up my body and crashes his mouth into mine, kissing me until we’re both out of air and I have to catch my breath before I can say, “My heart. My love.”
When he’s finally able to pull himself away, he reaches for a condom and rolls it on. “Will you ride me, sweetheart? Because we never did get to number nine on my positives list, and that’s definitely your breasts.”
I laugh and push him back on the mattress, positioning myself so I can sink onto that fat, hard cock of his. We both groan as I take him, and once I’m fully seated, we hold still and look at each other.
“I would’ve called you.” He moves now, fucking up into me, and I feel my insides start to throb again. “If I’d gotten your note. And even though I didn’t, it was so hard not to find you and beg, too.”
He repeats that thrusting, driving motion, but this time he licks his thumb and rubs it across my clit as he does it. I fall forward to rest my hands on his chest so I can work myself up and down his length, against his thumb, along his body.
“I don’t ever want it to be like that again, Wy.”
“It won’t,” he promises as I start to come again. He watches me with wonder in his eyes until the clutch and pulse of my pussy pulls him with me into the dark. The cords in his neck tense as he empties himself into me.
“You’re mine.” He pants it into my ear once I’m sweaty, boneless, and draped across him. “I’m yours. That will never change.”
“I’m yours,” I say sleepily. “You’re mine.”
I don’t know how long we lay like that, but when I start to shiver, he kisses my shoulder and says, “Don’t move.”
“As if I could,” I call weakly after him. “Unless you want me to text your sisters with the current condom count.”
“Not funny.” He’s rummaging through the bottom drawer of his dresser, allowing me to enjoy the shifting and flexing of his very fine, very naked ass. “Aha!”
A folded bundle of pink fabric lands on the bed next to me, and I shake it out in confusion. “What’s this?”
I look from the robe to Wyatt, then back down to the robe. Realization dawns slowly, and he squints at me, like he can’t bear to see the expression on my face in case it’s bad. “Yeah, I saved it. A part of me wondered if maybe someday…”
He waves his hand at me, naked in his bed, and I launch myself at him, desperate to hug him while simultaneously desperate to slide my arms into the robe I haven’t seen since the polar bear plunge all those years ago.
“I love you,” I say as I wrap my robe-covered arms around him. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
He walks me backward until we’re both flat on the mattress and curled into his blankets. “I love you too. Now drink your water and catch your breath. I want to show you a position I’ve been dreaming up. It’s called the partridge in a pear tree.”
“Intriguing. Am I the partridge or the pear tree?”
“Honey,” he says, “depending on the night, you could be both.”
Epilogue
December, Next Year
Wyatt
* * *
It’s Golfmas, and everyone’s disgustingly in love.
“To the newlyweds!” CJ shouts, raising her cup of spiked eggnog.
