When we finally get into the thankfully empty elevator, I turn and cage her in against the wall, my hands coming to either side of her head.
“There’s no alcohol running through your body tonight, Paige, so I know you’ll mean it completely. What do you want?”
Her eyes dilate and her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “I want you, Wyatt.”
“What do you want me to do,” I growl.
“I…” she falters, and her head starts to tilt down. Instantly my hand cups her chin and nudges it back up, so her eyes meet mine.
“No way. Don’t second-guess it. What. Do. You. Want.”
“I want to have sex with you. I want you to make me orgasm.” Her voice is strong this time, and what I needed to hear is loud and clear.
“Good girl.”
Chapter twelve
Paige
The way my body reacts to those two words defies all logic. The area between my legs has its own pulse, it is throbbing so strongly. I ache with the desire to feel his hands touch my body, touch me there. I’m quite confident that if anyone is capable of helping me reach the pinnacle of desire, it is Wyatt. And with every passing second, I grow more and more eager to experience it.
When the elevator doors open, Wyatt pulls me down the hallway to his room. One swipe of his key card and the door is open, then his hands are on my waist, spinning me around and pushing my body against the now closed door. Perhaps I should feel trapped with his body so close to mine and nowhere to go, but I don’t. If anything, I feel free. Freer than I ever have.
“I’m gonna make you come like this,” Wyatt growls into my ear as one hand moves to the front of my pants and makes quick work of opening them. I want to tell him to slow down, I don’t want to miss a single second, but at the same time, it feels excruciating, waiting for his touch. When his thumb finally grazes the stiff nub of nerve endings between my legs, I shriek, my hands coming to clutch at his shoulders. Sensation like I have never experienced is zapping through my body. It’s uncontrolled, wild, and reckless — everything I am not.
Wyatt is relentless. His lips plunder my neck while his fingers dive between my slick folds. My hips start to move of their own volition, seeking his touch. He chuckles against my skin.
“Easy there. Let me do this.”
His low voice seeps over me like molten lava, calming my nerves and agitating my senses.
“Please, Wyatt.” My voice is breathy, and for the briefest of seconds, I wonder if I’m going to need my inhaler. But the thought disappears when Wyatt slides a thick finger inside of me, causing me to lift onto my toes with a gasp.
“Fuck, Paige, you’re so fucking tight and wet. You’re ready, aren’t you, baby?”
“Yes. I am. Oh God, don’t stop doing that.” My hips are still moving around on his finger, desperately seeking something, I don’t even know what. But Wyatt must know because his free hand comes to my waist and holds me still. Then he slides a second finger in to join the first, and twists slightly, putting pressure on a place I didn’t realize existed in me.
Out of nowhere, a cascade of indescribable physical responses floods my body and mind, shutting out anything other than the intense pulsing of the muscles between my legs. When the throbbing clench turns to a lighter flutter and eventually stops, I’m shocked to come back to awareness and feel Wyatt’s fingers still drawing circles around my sex. There’s a slickness down there that I have never had before. My eyes open and I see a satisfied smile on his face, and something akin to wonder in his eyes. An expression I am certain is mirrored on my own face.
“That was an orgasm,” I state bluntly, immediately cutting eye contact with him because of course it was. He’s very aware of that fact, seeing as it is likely a far more frequent experience for him.
“That was fucking spectacular,” is his low reply, causing me to glance back up at him.
I clear my throat, and push my glasses up my nose. Why I am overcome with nerves after what he just did is beyond me, but here I am. “I did not expect it to happen that quickly, to be honest. I am pleasantly surprised.”
My confession doesn’t make Wyatt laugh as I wondered if it would. If anything, his gaze darkens until his eyes appear almost black in the dim light coming from one lamp beside the bed. His hands go around me and he easily lifts me into his arms. My legs dangle awkwardly, until he slides one hand down my thigh.
“Wrap your legs around me, Paige. Feel what you do to me.”
I do as I’m told, a moan escaping my mouth when the new position brings our pelvises together. I can feel the rigidity of him pressing against the fabric that separates us.
Wyatt drops me on the bed and I scramble back until I’m leaning against the pillows, my motions jerky and uncoordinated. But he is anything but that as he slowly lifts his shirt off, revealing his glorious torso. I don’t remember that much from last night, but I do remember the fluttering of my heart when I saw his chest.
He goes to the top of his pants and his hand stills. “You’re still with me?”
I nod vigorously and his lips quirk up in a small smirk. Excruciatingly slow, he undoes the button and slides down the zipper. He bends over and pushes his pants and underwear down at once, obstructing my view until he stands back up.
“Oh my,” I gasp, my mouth falling open. His erection juts out, long, thick, rigid. He walks around to the side of the bed closest to me, and I blink rapidly, certain I’m seeing things. “What’s that?” My hand stretches out tentatively, toward the metal barbell sticking out of the tip of his penis, but I snatch it back before I make contact.
