I don’t get far before Wes snatches my wrist and pins it down to the bed, his weight finally lowering onto me. “That’s my job tonight,” he growls, then takes my mouth in a devastating kiss.
My mind blanks under the onslaught, fingers tangling into his hair as he works his way down my body. The heat of his mouth is electric against my air-conditioner-cooled skin.
By the time Wes plunges his tongue into me, I’m so worked up I arch off the bed in a desperate attempt to get him deeper. He only laughs, pure male satisfaction that vibrates against my clit and nearly makes me come on the spot.
Two fingers slide into me before I can choke out a reply. I manage to gasp his name, my fingers clenched tight in his hair as he lowers his mouth back to my body. I nearly scream with frustration at the teasing lick of his tongue, but then he curls his fingers, strokes deep, and sucks hard on my clit.
And then he stops.
“That’s it, darlin’,” Wes murmurs, twisting to lightly bite my inner thigh while I writhe under his hold. “You ready to come for me?”
The sounds I manage are little more than breathless pleas and curses. He leaves me precariously teetering on the edge for a few seconds longer, his eyes hooded and intense as he takes in the state of mindless lust he’s reduced me to, before Wes finally,finallylowers his mouth again.
My hand plunges into his hair and holds tight, desperate for relief. He groans against me, pleasure and need mingling, his tongue lashing my clit while his fingers rub a spot inside me that makes me detonate.
I might black out for a few seconds.
When my brain finally unscrambles, Wes is stretched out next to me, his arm around my waist and my cheek resting on his chest. The rest of me is half sprawled on top of him, limbsloose and boneless, shivers of lingering pleasure twitching through me.
I slide my hand down his chest and under his waistband, still struggling to catch my breath, and circle my fingers around his straining cock. “Your turn,” I murmur into his skin, treating him to the same slow start he used to torture me.
“Sloane…” His fingers curl around my hip, flexing with each stroke as though he’s fighting to hold himself in check. Then his free hand comes down on my jaw, tilting my mouth up for a kiss while I continue to use my hand on him. It isn’t long before his breaths turn to ragged pants, the kiss turning desperate right before I break it to put my mouth to better use.
“Fuck,” Wes groans when I lower my lips over him, swirling my tongue to collect his salty taste. I glance up to find he’s pushed onto his elbows, watching as I take him deeper. “Shit, Sloane, your mouth…” He takes a shuddering breath, never taking his eyes off me as I set a rhythm of licking and sucking, my free hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “This is going to end far too fast.”
I should torture him, pay him back for the way he kept me on edge, but I want to see Wes come undone too badly to wait. My hum of pleasure has him cursing, and that’s before my hand travels lower to gently fondle his balls, already pulled tight to his body. He swears again, groaning my name with a hint of warning I choose to ignore. I flick my eyes up to his, catch his gaze, and hold it while sucking hard.
Wes comes with a hoarse cry, hips jerking and abs clenching. He’s still breathing hard when he drags me up his body, kissing me deeply despite tasting himself on my lips. I’m soworked up again from watching him that I start to lower my hand between my legs for some relief. He instantly growls, “My job,” and plunges his fingers back inside me, his thumb deliciously rough on my clit.
The second orgasm is fast, a rising tide of pleasure that sneaks up with little warning. We collapse into a sweaty tangle, the sound of the rain outside filtering back into my awareness while I struggle to catch my breath.
After everything that came before, the intimacy of what we just did is the final blow. My feelings for Wes aren’t something I can ignore, even if they do terrify me in their strength. But as he drags me back into his arms, as his kisses turn slow and languid, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I could be the one to tame some of his wildness.
Chapter Sixteen
Neither of us is inany mood to get up when our alarms go off.
Wes groans into my hair and nuzzles closer. “Don’t wanna,” he grumbles, adorably sleepy. His hand slides down my thigh and back up to press low on my stomach to keep me in place. “Let’s just stay in bed today.”
“Don’t tempt me.” I yawn, fumbling for my phone and blearily silencing the alarm before automatically refreshing the forecast model I already have up. In the seconds it takes to load, I valiantly ignore that it’s morning and I’m going to have to deal with the consequences of my choices last night.
Eventually.
Wordlessly, I pass the phone over my shoulder to Wes. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed that our target area is far enough away that lingering here isn’t an option. My body definitely wants to stay tangled up with him and find out justhow good the hard cock nestled against my ass would feel inside me. Emotionally, I’m a bigger mess than a rural gas station after a hundred chasers blow through.
“Guess we’ve got places to be.” He nips my shoulder before reluctantly pulling away. “Shower to wake up?”
Unabashedly naked Wes is a sight to behold. He preens at my perusal, stretching his arms high above his head and letting me look my fill before stalking over to my side of the bed. Bracing one hand on the mattress, he uses the other to hook a finger into the sheets and drag them down to my waist. “One of these days,” he says, his voice still hoarse from sleep and deliciously rough as he takes in my naked breasts, “I would love to photograph you like this. Just for me.”
Despite the bolt of desire his words bring on, I can’t help a laugh, dragging myself up to rest against the pillows. “Remember one of those times you wanted to know what I was thinking about? Exactly that. You, naked, on the other end of my lens.”
His lips curve into a pleased grin while his eyes burn. “Guess it’s meant to be.”
My stomach flips. Something tells me Wes isn’t just talking about a naughty photo shoot. Or maybe I’m just imagining more behind the wicked tilt of his smile than there is.
“Whenever you want to take those photos, I’m all yours,” Wes adds, thankfully oblivious to the direction of my thoughts.
“After storm season.” I groan at the reminder of what’s waiting for me in just over three weeks. “And June weddings.”
