I can’t look at her sex yet because I’m so hard from just a glimpse of her treasures that I’m afraid I’ll fall on her like a ravening beast.
“Uh.”
“No, don’t hide from me.”
Is that my voice? I wonder, clearing the croak from my suddenly dry throat.
“Can I turn the light out?”
“Not on your bloody life,” I snarl, stepping closer to pull her in to my chest.
The zing of arousal that zips through me from that light contact makes my breath stutter, and I fight a growl when she leans in, pressing her nipples into my chest.
The move brings my dick into contact with her soft belly and she stiffens, making to pull away, so I slide my hands down and grip her fabulous backside, hoisting her up and bringing her legs around my waist.
That sits her core right over my hard dick, and I groan, making a valiant effort not to pull her closer and dry hump her like a teenaged boy.
“I’m too heavy,” she squeaks, wiggling to be put down.
The movement sends her heat shimmying over my dick and I groan, pushing my face into her sweet-smelling neck as I try to calm the storm of lust raging through me.
When the wet spot on her panties makes contact through my pants, I lose the battle and practically throw her on the bed, coming down and over her, my mouth voracious as I lean down and lick my way into her gasping mouth and use my tongue to tell her how truly, very much I want her.
She kisses me back, her tongue taking tiny licks into my mouth, and I let go and drown in her, inhaling her taste into me and forcing my own into her.
I’ve never felt this intoxicated with just one taste before, and it scares me half to death, the need that’s raging through me with nothing more than the meeting of lips and tongue.
I pull back, not sure what to do—
“Don’t stop. Please,” she gasps, pulling my head back down and shoving her hips into mine.
I realize I’ve been grinding into her the whole time and groan. She protests when I pull away and sit up, attacking my shirt and pants like a madman.
Her eyes widen and almost fall out when she sees my boy, and I grin, nodding minutely. He’s big, a lot bigger than most, but he knows what he wants and how to do the job right.
“Oh, cripes. That’s never—”
“Sshh,” I laugh, placing a finger over her trembling lips. “We’ll fit perfectly. Now lie back and relax. I have a lot of fantasizing to make reality.”
And I do. I explore every inch of her smooth skin with my hands, starting at her breasts and the pebbled nipples and making my way down to her toes before flipping her over and exploring her ample arse.
By the time I allow my mouth and tongue freedom she’s shaking and moaning, her hips bumping up in a rhythm that’s begging me for one thing and one thing only.
“Oh. My. God.”
I smile against her wet sex and give her what she needs, grinding myself into the mattress to relieve the ache while I suck her to her first orgasm. When she gets there she seizes up and screams, pulling my hair so hard I wince.
But I love all that natural movement and the way she screams my name, unabashedly open in the pleasure she’s taking from me. I’m used to women trying to look sexy and sound sexy in bed, so her hoarse screams and the agonized look on her face do something to me I can’t describe.
I let her go only when the aftershocks have quieted and make my way up her body, lining myself up with her opening.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” she whispers, her voice filled with renewed nerves.
I don’t give her a chance to change her mind and thrust in with a quick, hard motion that tears through the thin membrane, and seat myself fully before stilling and looking down into her face.
Oh shit.
Chapter Nine
Becky
This is not what I expected. I’ve heard that the pain can be intense and shocking but that it passes quickly. For my part it did hurt, quite a bit, but that’s now what has me tensing and trying to ease back into the mattress.
“It’s okay. Hush, baby, it’ll get better in a second,” he croons, nibbling his way from my parted lips to my neck and down to my breast to take a nipple into his mouth.
The little bites and flicks make me clench, returning the burning need of seconds before, and I push up experimentally, moaning when the fullness sends pleasure winging through my womb.
“Please.”
He starts moving in a gentle rhythm but speeds up when I start thrashing around and dig my nails into his ass, spurring him on with words and my writhing hips.
When I can’t take another minute and it feels like my body is on overload, he reaches down and presses his thumb down between my legs, and I climaxe, screaming his name, bursting into a million shattered pieces and falling back to earth with a thump.
I feel him tense and groan before he lets go, and I smile sadly, cradling his face in my neck as we both lie there, spent, struggling to catch our breaths.
Damn. I’m pretty sure that’s the best sex I’m ever gonna have, and the knowledge dampens some of my bliss because I’m afraid to explore the feelings I know are there, and even more afraid that what he feels is nowhere near what I’d like him to.
*********************************
I wake to the feel of something tickling over the small of my back and stretch lazily, swatting at it with a grunt. Settling back into my pillow, I snuggle down with a sigh and float dreamily, not quite awake.
The tickle returns, spreading down over my ass all the way to the crease where it meets my thigh, and I bat at it until I meet something hot and—
“OhmyGod.”
I shoot straight up and bat my hair from my eyes, feeling ridiculous when a pair of gray eyes smiles up at me and it all comes rushing back.
Me. Devon. Body parts.
“Good morning, imp,” he drawls, stretching lazily.
My eyes follow the ripple and stretch of his abs all the way down, till my eyes hit ground zero and I realize he’s lost the sheet. Cheeks heating furiously, I look away and squeak again, scrambling beneath the covers when I see that his little move didn’t just bare his parts but mine too.
I really should have thought things out, because I need a wax and maybe a full body exfoliation to make things pretty. Buuut apparently he doesn’t agree, because a second later I’m sheet-less and pinned beneath a grinning Devon, his erection—oh, brother, can I call that monster an erection? It’s waaay big—cradled in my cleft, and he’s dropping kisses all over my jawline and neck.
“What the hell is that?” I manage to squeak when he twists his hips and pushes against a certain spot that wasn’t alive till now.
“I believe we men call it morning wood. Care to explore the forest?”
I giggle, can’t help myself, and stretch into the contact. It’s not exactly comfortable for me to wake up, the morning after, and be face to face with a guy I totally dig, but short of throwing a girl fit and throwing him out—that would be doubly awkward—I can’t do anything but give in and enjoy this. I want to.
A lot.
“Morning breath,” I mutter when he leans up and presses his lips to the corner of my mouth.
That makes him laugh, and then he’s making a big production of kissing me and breathing in my face.
“Gross. Stop it.”
But I’m laughing and kissing him back as we roll around on the bed and get tangled up together.
An hour later, yes, a freaking hour of making out and playing lumberjack to his ‘morning wood’, I roll out from beneath him and tiptoe into the shower, needing a few minutes alone.
My thoughts are scattered, but I’m as giddy as I am totally terrified. Best sex ever. And yeah, I know I can’t really say that, since it’s my first sex ever, but I can confidently say that that was and will forevermore be the yardstick.
Devon knows what to do with a woman’s body, and he does it with such ease and confidence that I’m
a little peeved. Apparently he’s had lots of practice. Lots.
Goddamned man whore.
But I’m grinning when I walk out of the bathroom. That is, until I see the empty bed and come to a dead halt, knowing the room is empty before I even look.
“Asshole.”
I’m dressed and ready for the wedding horrors ten minutes later, and meet Lila in the dining room.
“Sooo?”
I’m really not in the freaking mood for post-coital breakdowns right now, but I follow her to a table in the back corner and plop down with a huff that has her laughing and shaking a finger at me.
“Nu-uh, girlfriend. You had the maiden voyage, and I wanna know everything. Start at the beginning and tell me everything. Don’t leave out any details. Please.” She giggles. “Grey won’t do me till the honeymoon, so I’m living vicariously through you.”
Where to start.
“You know how you have a picture in your head for years and you build it up so much it’s ridiculous?” I ask, grinning when she nods and swallows, not quite quick enough to hide the wince my dark tone brings on.
“Please don’t tell me that hot English Adonis messed it up.”
“Nope. He freaking rocked my world and then rocked it right back again,” I say, grinning through a blush of renewed arousal. “And then he waited till I went to shower and pulled a runner,” I finish, stabbing at my eggs.
“Oh, no he di’nt.”
“Oh yeah,” I growl back, seeing the dummy walk in beside Grey, their heads bent together in conversation. “Please tell me they’re not headed this way.”
“Sorry.”
“Keep your mouth shut, or my brother will shit a brick,” I mumble a second before I feel him. Yeah, before I feel the asshole come up behind me before taking the seat to my left.
“Morning, ladies.”
“There’s the bastard,” I mutter under my breath, filling my mouth with so many eggs I think I got the whole chicken and her extended family.
“Pardon?” Grey asks, eyeing us suspiciously, his eyes narrowing on my face before settling on Devon.
“Oh, she said where’s the mustard! Here you go, Becks; I know how much you love mustard with your eggs!”
“I don’t like mustard,” I grit out for her ears only, swallowing bile when Grey leans over and covers half my plate with the yellow goo.
“There ya go, scamp, all ready for your taste buds.”
“Are you okay?” Devon asks when Lila starts talking to Grey about the wedding, leaving us alone and to ourselves.
“Fine.”
“Imp—”
“I said I’m fine. Eat your breakfast.”
“I’m full. I already ate this morning,” he purrs, his eyes heavy lidded as he licks his lips and looks down at my lap. “And it’s ruined me for other food.”
O.M.G.
“Stop it.”
“No. I like it when you blush. Calm yourself, imp, you always blush around me.” He chuckles when Grey looks over, digging his grave deeper before going for ten feet under. “Although I notice you’re starting to speak normally around me now. For a while there I thought all we had for foreplay would be a grocery list of vegetables.”
“You wanna die today?” I mutter, gagging around a mouthful of yellow bacon.
“I suppose I could, imp, since I’d go with a bleeding smile after what you did with your mouth,” he croons, steeling a hand high up on my thigh.
I freeze and choke around my food, spluttering when his hand moves up and under my skirt.
“Quit it.”
“I can’t quit you,” he drawls in a horrible Texan accent that makes me shudder with laughter.
“You going Brokeback on me?”
It’s easy to forget that he left me without so much as a ‘see ya’ when he’s being his usual incorrigible self, and forget it completely when he shifts his hand higher and blinks up at me slowly.
“No, but bareback will do, imp. Now shush, and eat your eggs.”
I choke them down and pretend to care about the day’s festivities as Lila groans and starts listing today’s events, all the while very aware of the fingers rubbing slow circles around the top of my thigh.
“Relax, imp, I’ve got you.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Chapter Ten
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
The crowd goes wild as Grey grabs Lila, hoists her up by the ass, and kisses the heck out of her for so long that a few chuckles and coughs start ringing out before he lowers her to the floor and takes her hand, his eyes so proud and full of love it’s hard to watch.
I sigh and avoid looking over at Devon, feeling a bit too raw to risk meeting his eyes, in case he sees something I don’t want him to see. Something he doesn’t want to see, no matter how hard he’s worked the last few days to make me feel wanted.
I didn’t get to sleep with him again, thanks to Aunt Myrtle arriving late—no RSVP, the old bat—and becoming my roomie, thanks to Mama and her interfering ways, so not only am I all gooey about the wedding and watching two people being head over heels in love, I’m gooey for a whole different reason and frustrated that I lost out on three more days of smoking hot sex with Mr Bedroom Eyes.
And I can’t do anything about it because he’s leaving later to catch a flight because one of his brothers broke his arm in a rugby match and he’s worried about the kid.
“You look like someone stole your favorite Barbie.”
Nope, they stole my Ken, and I’m not going to get to play with him again. Ever. He’s leaving me for the queen, and I don’t quite know how to deal with it.
I want to throw a tantrum and stomp my feet, but if I do my poor Ken will be ripped limb from limb by four big, strapping Hulks.
“Oh, shut up, dummy. I haven’t hardly seen you this week, and you’re redeploying soon. What’s up?” I ask Logan, taking his arm and following the rest of the guests out to the tent and the mountain of food and drinks that awaits.
Logan’s my favorite, but the guy’s so locked down and closed off it makes me mad and sad at the same time. We used to be tighter than a nun's legs, and now I’m lucky if I hear from him every two months.
I miss him, like crazy miss him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Or if he does he just doesn’t care.
“Nothing. Just trying to get through this without running into Dad. What about you? You look miserable,” he murmurs, mussing my hair when I glare at his deflection and shake my head.
“You know, Lo, one of these days you’re gonna have to stop being such a baby and just say what you need to. Pretending the rest of us don’t exist will only get you so far before we actually aren’t there anymore and you’re all alone.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I do. I know what it’s like to want something and convince myself I can’t have it. Don’t need it. Unlike you, I don’t have a choice but to keep fooling myself, because I can’t, literally can’t have it. You can, you just won’t try.”
Logan glares down at me and firms his lips, and I have to fight back tears that he cares so little he isn’t bothered to ask what it is that I want. Before, he would have demanded an answer and moved heaven and earth to give me what I need. Now he can’t even force himself to respond.
“You won’t even ask?”
“Not my business.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Screw you, big brother.”
I leave him standing there, as alone as he wants to be, and go find Mama, needing her like I have since I was little. Her kisses still had the power to fix my booboos.
“He’s leaving in a few minutes,” Mama says sadly, looking over at him with a tear-filled smile. “Used to be he’d follow you around like a shadow.”
“Yeah, and now he won’t even spit on me if he can help it.”
“Ladies,” I hear from the left, and groan when Devon leans down and grins at Mama. “
May I steal your lovely daughter for a dance?”
“Go on then. I need to find my guy and twist his arm into dancing with me.”
Mama walks away with a grin and a wave, leaving me alone with Devon and my still roiling emotions. I don’t need this right now. I’m too torn up about everything, and I’m not in the right place to play battle of the one night stand with him.
“Go away. I’m not interested.”
“Yes you are. Come on, imp, dance with me before I have to leave. Please?”
I go, because I can’t help myself. He pulls me into his arms and leads me, keeping me close, his face close to mine as he looks down at me, his eyes serious, not at all his playful, snarky self.
“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he whispers into my hair. “Even I’m not that crass. I got a call and I had to take it. I’m sorry.”
I shrug and stare over his shoulder, forcing myself to smile at Grey as they twirl past and then at Matt when he wiggles by doing some crazy dance move that lacks rhythm but is made up for in gusto.
“Imp.”
“It’s fine. We had a one night stand and good sex. Now I can move on, and maybe flirt a little and not be too self-conscious about my fat ass. It’s all good.”
“Don’t do that. You’re beautiful,” he snarls, tipping my chin up and looking deeply into my eyes.
“Yeah. Okay. Whatever. Can you maybe try not to talk to me so much? You’re making me feel—”
“We were supposed to spend the rest of the week together, and you’ve been avoiding me like the bloody plague.”
“I got a new roomie, and while she may be deaf as a post, she’s not blind or stupid. Having sex with her in the same bed would have been tricky,” I grump, trying to put some space between our bodies and failing when he only pulls me closer.
“You could have come to my room, you know.”
“Uh, not on your life, player. I do not do the walk of shame.”
That startles him, and this time he’s the one pushing me away, his eyes stark.
“You feel shamed by what we did?”
Aw, cripes. That came out totally wrong, something I don’t feel and never want another person to feel. But I’d be lying if I said I don’t want him to feel just a little shitty for skipping out on me and then trying to use a lame ass excuse to make me feel better about it.
Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1) Page 74