He yanked my tank top off, tossed it somewhere behind him, and leaned back just enough to take me in.
Eyes dark.
Jaw clenched.
Hands braced on either side of my ribs like he didn’t trust himself to touch me yet.
“You’re gonna ruin me,” he said.
“You already ruined me,” I whispered back. “So maybe we’re even.”
That was it.
That snapped the last of his control.
He palmed my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples, and I cried out, arching into his hands.
Then his mouth followed. Hot, open, devouring.
One nipple, then the other, his teeth scraping just enough to make my hips jerk.
I was already soaked.
Already shaking.
Already begging without saying a word.
He worked his way down, teeth dragging over the curve of my waist, the dip of my hip, the inside of my thigh, until he was exactly where I needed him.
He kissed the inside of my knee, then looked up at me from between my thighs, his voice gravel.
“Don’t hold back, Amanda. Not with me. Not ever.”
Then his mouth was on me. His tongue was hot, slow, and relentless.
I cried out, one hand in his hair, the other gripping the sheets like a lifeline.
He moaned against me, like my taste was everything he needed.
His hands pinned my hips down when I tried to rise. Then he moved his hand to my entrance and pushed deep inside while his tongue circled my clit again, and again, and again. My thighs started to shake and my vision blurred.
“Oh my god—Wrecker?—”
“Give it to me,” he growled. “Now.”
My whole body shattered. It was hard, fast, and loud.
“FUCK WRECKER!” I screamed. I didn’t care if the whole compound could hear me. My back arched up, my mouth opened wide, and my hands clawed at the sheets around me.
And Wrecker kept going. He didn’t stop until I was barely gasping his name, over and over, like it was the only thing I knew how to say.
When I finally blinked through the haze, he was already crawling back up my body, pressing kisses over my ribs, my neck, my jaw.
“You with me?” he whispered, brushing his nose against mine.
I nodded, still breathless.
“Yeah. Always.”
