On the next thrust, Wizard kisses me. His lips land on mine, almost haphazard, searching, needing. Our breath stutters out together, hot on each other’s lips before he devours mine. He draws in so much more than my breath. He gets to taste every sound that tears out of my throat. I feed them all to him and lap up his.
He kisses me until there’s no oxygen left, and even then, his lips barely leave mine. He thrusts harder and my hips grind into him, meeting him stroke for stroke. I love that he has to take me all the way, every single time, as though he’s not satisfied and it’s not exactly right until his balls hit my ass. He’s slick and sweaty from holding himself back. Our skin starts to stick together. Every time he has to take a short pause, I can feel him throbbing inside of me while his arms and shoulders tremble.
He cages me in, presses me down, fills me, shares my breath, and I love it. I love everything about him being bigger and stronger. He doesn’t fuck me. He loves me. He’s slow and gentle and considerate. He’s not even thinking about his own pleasure. He’s doing everything he can to hold back so that I getthere first. He’s enjoying this, and the fact that it feels good for him, more than good even, blows my mind.
I finally need to get my legs up and wrap them both around his waist, opening myself up to take him deeper with every thrust. It makes it easier for me to writhe against him, rolling my hips to change the burn to an incendiary fire storm. I arch up, getting the friction exactly where I need it. When Wizard thrusts, I make sure he hits my clit every single time.
“Esme,” he rasps over my lips. “I’m so close.”
“Me too.” My hands turn into claws at his neck, one raking through his hair, the other holding on for dear life. I want to let go. I’m so close.
He gets wild, losing himself in me, his thrusts long and deep and then faster and faster, short bursts as he loses control. He makes noises every time, wild animal, needy, choked sounds. He gets his hand under my hips and lifts them, his fingers digging deep into my ass cheeks, as he pounds into me. Just feeling him lose it, listening to him coming undone, tips me over the edge with him.
As soon as I feel him tense and release those hot jets inside of me, I tumble straight into my own climax. It turns me inside out, hitting me with wave after violent wave. I slam my eyes closed and savor the intensity of it. Half pummeled with pleasure or not, it’s incredible. I shake and vibrate and hold onto Wizard as tightly as he clings to me.
He doesn’t pull out when he collapses against me. We hold each other tightly, our bodies swaying softly together, trembling as pleasure tugs at us. I’m still clenching around him and he’s still throbbing inside of me.
“I love you,” he murmurs into my hair. “That was incredible.” I can feel his lips pull into a smile. “If you give me half an hour and a few more of those strawberries, I’ll probably be ready for another round.”
He slips out of me and reaches for the sheet, dragging it over both of us. His arm shoots out and tugs me in against his chest. He smells like bathwater and roses, champagne and chocolate, a little of his bike still, and now he smells likeme. Like our sweat, our sex, our combined need. It’s intoxicating and heady. I’ve never felt so blissed out, or so calm, like I could close my eyes and drift away on a cloud of hope and peace andhim.
He tucks me in against him, my head on his shoulder and brushes kisses over my hair. I close my eyes and sink into the bed, breathe him in, let his heat envelope me. Like we are in all the things that we’ve tried, we’re a perfect fit.
Chapter 25
Wizard
When I finally check my phone again the next morning, it’s after we woke up, made love, and lounged in the bath. I had to be reasonable and suggest that we at least pretend that we’re going to order breakfast at some point. My phone was the last thing I thought of. It’s been in the pocket of my jeans, turned off. I trusted Maverick and Dravin with the club’s security. They know what to do in case of an emergency. Nothing else was more important than my time with Esme. I wanted it to be just the two of us, without outside distractions.
I don’t like the number of texts that pop up as soon as I power my phone on. My mom and dad are the opposite of most people’s parents. They don’t try to call. They’re not big texters either. Before I even read any of the messages, I have a pretty good guess as to what they’re about.
I’d be a liar if I said my blood pressure doesn’t spike to new levels. I can relax about most things, but not this.
The first round are from last night.
Mom: Sandra says she saw you leaving Hart and that you had someone on the back of your bike.
Mom: I suppose if there’s one good thing about having a son in a biker club, it’s that most of this town knows you and your bike by now and they’ll tell me if anything strange is going on.
Mom: With my own son, who won’t tell his mother anything himself.
Mom: I’m not so old and naïve that I don’t know what that means.
Mom: I know you. You’re my son. You wouldn’t just put anyone back there. We all know you. Esme and James break up and a few days later she’s on the back of your bike? How do you think that’s going to go over?
Mom: How do you think that looks, or don’t you care?
Mom: Your brother is going to be home eventually. He’s going to find out. It’ll drive him mad.
I pause after reading that one. It sounds a lot like she knows exactly when James is going to be back. I can almost hear her scolding tone, all the worry pressing into her voice. For my brother, not for me.
Mom: Your brother might seem like he doesn’t care about anything, but he does. He’s very sensitive when it all comes right down to it.
Okay…thatmakes me think that James called her, or that he’s alreadythere. I set up the security cameras at their house, but I don’t have access to them. I could get it, if I wanted to, but it would take some effort with this phone.
I glance across the room, at Esme. She’s digging in her backpack, tugging on clothes. She catches me looking and smiles the softest, sweetest smile at me. My stomach cramps. I don’t want to keep this from her, but I’d also like to be sure before I tell her that James is back. To do that, I’d have to call myparents, and there’s no way I’m going to. I shouldn’t have even turned this on. I should have left myself unplugged. I don’t want to ruin this time for Esme by burdening her with something that we can’t do anything about until we’re back in Hart anyway. There are more texts. I keep scrolling down, scanning them quickly.
Mom: I know that you’re ignoring me. You never have your phone off. Not even at family Christmas dinners. It’s always screens, screens, screens.
