I felt his hard cock press between my legs as he lowered himself over me. The weight of his body settled over me, giving me that perfectly trapped feeling. “It’s my turn, then.”
My hands were pinned between us, but it didn’t matter. Wilder had clearly taken control. I was expecting another panties-drenching kiss, but Wilder went for my neck again instead. Licking and nibbling his way down, he whispered low words against my skin.
“Beautiful.”
“Strong.”
“Loving.”
Each word was mixed with the flick of his tongue and the scrape of his teeth. I would never hear the word feminine again without feeling the rush of pleasure as his teeth nibbled at the juncture where my neck met my shoulder.
As he reached my chest, the words faded as his mouth found other ways of making me feel loved. His fingers eased one thin strap of the nightgown down as he started swirling his tongue over my nipple. Nibbling and licking, he moved his hand to pinch and roll my other one in his fingers.
When he gave it a firm tug that sent a lightning bolt of pleasure right to my cock, I gasped out. Wilder just lifted his head, grinning wickedly. “I don’t want that one to feel lonely.”
There was no chance of that. The dueling pleasure was making it hard to think; all I could do was squirm and fight the urge to grind my cock against his body. Wilder chuckled and went back to teasing at my nipples, but before long, he shifted slightly and his hand started skimming over the nightgown, working its way lower.
When he finally reached the end of the nightgown and started slowly inching under it toward my dick, I almost couldn’t breathe. The anticipation was too much. As his fingers finally closed the last distance, I felt him palming my cock through the lacy fabric. Then he bit down on my nipple, making me cry out.
A low chuckle rolled through his chest as he thoroughly explored my cock. When he finally pushed the panties down to bare my erection, I was leaking precum and whimpering under him, desperate for more.
Instead of continuing the teasing touch like I’d been prepared for, Wilder wrapped his hand around my cock and gave it a long, firm stroke that had me arching up and frantically grasping at the last threads of my self-control. I was right on the edge of coming and Wilder loved it.
“So perfect. That beautiful hard cock and those pretty panties. Look at you. I could sketch you just like this. Right on the edge and frantic but trying to be so good for me. You’re going to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever drawn. I just know it.” His hand kept playing with my erection, forcing me right to the brink, but the tender words and the dirty images he invoked made it even harder to hold my desire back.
“Please!” I wasn’t sure what I was begging for, but I knew what I wanted—for him to take me completely.
Wilder must have realized how close I was, or maybe he was just as needy, because his touch changed from teasing to purposeful. He held my cock tight and used his thumb to caress over the head. It kept me crazy, but it also reinforced his control over me. Just that one hand could keep me shaking and hard, and ready to beg again.
Wilder’s grin was almost a dirty leer as I squirmed and writhed against him. “Please what?”
He was having entirely too much fun torturing me.
I didn’t stop to think. I didn’t question what I wanted. I couldn’t move my arms much, but I squeezed my hands on his chest and thrust up into his hand. “Make love to me, Wilder. I want you to strip off my panties and slide into me and fuck me until I can’t move.”
Yep. No guessing here.
“Whatever my stalker wants.” Wilder released my cock, which wasn’t what I wanted at all. But relief flooded through me when he leaned over and reached for the side table drawer. When he brought out a condom and lube, I smiled.
“You were feeling lucky tonight.” Not that I was upset about that. I hadn’t made any effort to hide how I felt about him.
Wilder’s wicked smile grew. “I have lube and condoms in every possible place that I could make love to you.”
I loved a planner.
Tossing the condom and lube on the floor beside me, Wilder focused back on me and his eyes took in every curve and line of my body. His hands finally started following his gaze and reached out to strip off my panties.
As he slowly eased them down my legs, I loved the tender expression on his face. It was almost fascination, but I’d seen the expression on too many artist types to mind. No, it made me feel precious and important. I mattered to him and I knew every moment was being carved into his memory.
The teasing seemed to have come to an end, thankfully. When he had his fingers slicked, he moved back between my legs and eased them wider. With the nightgown on, but naked from the waist down, I felt wicked and naughty. Teasing or even touch wasn’t necessary to keep me turned on and hard when he had me laid out for him with that look on his face.
When his fingers started circling around my hole, a shiver raced through me, and I had to fight the desire to hold my breath. As one slid in, I was afraid he’d decided to torture me again. It was slow and careful. But when my body just opened to his touch, and I thrust my hips up silently begging for more, the temptation to make me crazy seemed to pass for Wilder. One finger quickly became two and soon I was writhing beneath him, three fingers stretching me wide.
My mumbling for him to hurry as I moaned and whined might have had something to do with it too.
He chuckled as his fingers pulled out, but all I felt was relief. Wilder wasn’t trying to look cool or distant, he was just as ready as I was and clearly pleased with how nuts he’d made me. He quickly stripped off his clothes like they were just in the way of what he really wanted.
Me.
I didn’t have time to admire him or even decide if I was going to distract him so I could learn how he wanted to be touched. Before my brain could even process the fact that he was naked and hard, he was reaching for the condom. Easing it down over his sculpted, thick cock, he quickly stretched out over me.
When his hands lifted my legs and pushed my ass up higher for him, I moaned and reached out. I wrapped my arms around him tightly as he brought his dick to my opening and started easing into me. “God…yes…more…”
My brain was gone, but Wilder loved it. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? My sexy stalker. God, baby, you feel…”
His words trailed off as he bottomed out deep inside me. Every muscle in him clenched, and I could feel the tension rolling off him as he paused for a long moment before he started pulling out. Sparks shot through me as the pronounced head of his dick brushed against my prostate. As broad and built as Wilder was, his erection was proportionate to his body and felt incredible.
Thinking became too hard as he started fucking me, gradually going faster and harder. Fireworks exploded with every thrust as he found just the right angle to make me babble stupid shit as my cock jerked and I promised him the moon as long as I got to come.
As I clamped down around him, determined to get my orgasm one way or another, he barked out a laugh and his rhythm finally started to falter. “That’s cheating.”
“I’m…a…stalker…can’t…complain…” Fuck. That sounded better in my head.
Wilder seemed to take my ability to make even a half-hearted sentence as a challenge because his speed increased and brushing past my prostate turned into nailing it with each thrust. “Fuck!”
That evidently pleased him because his wicked grin widened, and he finally reached down and wrapped his hand around my dick. “Show me how much you want it, baby. Show me how much you want to come.”
All that made it through my brain was “come”—so I did.
Chapter 13
Wilder
I was going to draw him if I had to tie him down to do it.
Working from memory just wasn’t the same. Sketch after sketch was strewn across the table, but they weren’t right. The closest I’d gotten was the one where he was stretched out on the floor in something that looked very clos
e to the nightie he’d worn last week.
I’d captured the spark in his eyes and the need that had been radiating from him—but something was missing. When I tried to translate the image in my head of him leaning against the window, it wasn’t even close to the perfection in my mind.
“That’s it. No distractions this weekend until he’s posed for me.” No orgasms. No sexy fashion shows until I’d had him leaning against that window in something feminine and slinky. “Maybe something like the body suit he put up on the site the other day.”
In the time since we’d started dating, I’d been able to see that Lane was growing to trust me and open up to me more. But I still hadn’t met anyone from work other than Eli and I hadn’t seen a photo shoot. That was probably my fault for not pressing the issue, but I wasn’t sure if he was ready yet.
And considering the fact that I hadn’t brought him to work, I probably couldn’t complain.
It hadn’t been a deliberate decision. With the odd hours we worked and his long days between his two jobs, we were both very busy. With someone else, I might have been worried, but I knew with Lane there wasn’t any hint or meaning behind it. I knew he was worried about completely opening up that part of his life to me, but I also knew our relationship was important to him.
Just the way he curled into me and clung to me after the first time we’d made love had shown me that. I was still a little bit frustrated with myself that we hadn’t made it upstairs the first time, but Lane seemed to find it endearing. We’d made it upstairs eventually, though, and he’d had the chance to explore me, which had made him happy.
He’d spent what had felt like hours tracing every tattoo with his fingers and tongue, assuring me that was the only way he could learn about every tattoo. I had my revenge on him the next morning, however.
Before he’d left to go back to his house, I’d made sure he would remember me long after he’d left. Edging him was so much fun. He’d begged and pleaded as I’d brought him close to his orgasm over and over before pulling him back again. By the time I’d let him come, he’d been frantic and beautiful.
“I just need to capture that same look as he’s leaning against the window.” Pushing back from the table, I rose and stretched.
Glancing at the clock on the stove, I couldn’t decide if the urge to sketch him some more was stronger or if I should just give in to the pull of my bed. I gave the papers on the table one last look, then forced myself to move away. Having him in front of me would be the only way to get it right and the only way I would be satisfied.
Moving around the kitchen, I cleaned up the last few things that were out of place. My phone rang just as I was getting ready to head upstairs. It was late enough that I knew it wouldn’t be Lane, but part of me hoped it would be. When I saw it was Gray, I had to smile.
“This is late even for you.” Gray had been surprisingly quiet the last couple of days, so I’d been expecting a call.
“I figured if I waited late enough I might be able to catch you tired and chatty.” Gray chuckled, clearly finding himself amusing. “Besides, I was giving you a chance to figure things out before I started pestering you for more details.”
I barked out a laugh. “Did you reach the end of your patience or did you just figure that I’d had enough time to think?”
“Both.” Gray’s amusement and confidence made it hard to take offense.
Not wanting to give up the details too easily, I shrugged and kept my answer casual. “I think everything’s going fine.”
Gray groaned. “Only fine? I thought things were going better than that.”
I snorted but still fell for the trap. “There’s nothing wrong with that word. But all right, it’s been wonderful. Better?”
“Much. So no second-guessing about getting serious with a guy or anything? I know lots of guys in this position wouldn’t be as comfortable as you are.”
I tried not to feel self-conscious or defensive, but it was hard. “I like him. It’s not how I’d have pictured a relationship looking even six months ago, but it feels right.”
Just because I’d never imagined a serious relationship with a man didn’t mean it was something I needed to be freaked out about. It wasn’t like I’d fallen for an alien, I’d just fallen for someone articulate, sweet, interesting, and educated who happened to have a penis—and since I knew how that worked, I wasn’t really worried.
Besides, I had a feeling a lot of guys in the same situation would be more concerned about other people’s perception than the fact that they were falling in love with a man. But I’d given up worrying about what other people thought a long time ago. I’d always pictured being in a relationship with someone who was easy to talk with, that I was attracted to, and who understood why I was passionate about art.
I’d found all of that and more with Lane.
“I’m glad things are working out between you guys.” Then Gray’s voice took a more teasing tone. “But all this talk about it feeling right means that you’re comfortable with the modeling and how the package, as you described it, is decorated?”
Rolling my eyes, I started heading out of the kitchen. “If he’d have been a different person, it might have bothered me. I don’t know. But the way he talks about work and how it makes him feel doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”
I’d never pictured dating anybody with a job like that, so I wasn’t even sure how I would’ve felt about it in the past. Maybe I’d always been open-minded about it or maybe it was just all the people that I’d met over the past couple of years, but the idea of people looking at Lane online didn’t bother me.
He was beautiful. Of course they’d want to look at him.
It was also easy to understand that it was the only outlet he was allowing himself for his more feminine side. Taking that away from him would have been like shoving him back in the closet when he was only half out to begin with. No, I would rather bring him all the way out to show him how incredible he was.
Gray cleared his throat, sounding guilty. “I may have poked around the website, so I’m glad that you’re comfortable with his work.”
Expecting Gray not to snoop would have been ridiculous. “I told you he was beautiful.”
Gray laughed. “Absolutely. I expect some praise for my restraint. I’m not even going to ask if he wears anything like that at home.”
“That’s because you already asked the question. You don’t get kudos for that.” Just because I hadn’t known the answer when he’d first asked didn’t mean I was going to tell him now.
Gray groaned. “That has to mean yes. How did you end up in a relationship with someone instead of me? You look like a Hells Angel and he had to have assumed you were straight.”
“Assumptions don’t make it real. Evidently, I wasn’t straight.”
“So you’re bi?”
“Yes.” That was as good a definition as any I’d found online. There were more choices than I’d ever dreamed, and I had to admit I’d just stopped reading when I found one that made a reasonable amount of sense. Eventually, I might go back and look at it again but for the time being, I was more focused on Lane than the difference between being bi and being pan.
Gray chuckled. “You’re not in the closet, right? You don’t mind if I drive a few people crazy with this?”
“What are you going to do?” I wasn’t in the closet, but I wasn’t going to let him do something insane like skywrite my sexuality across downtown or something.
“There are just a few people that I want tease about this. I’m still friends with some of the guys we went to school with and they’re going to kick themselves for putting you in the straight guy category.”
I snorted and shook my head. “Go ahead. I’m not in the closet.”
I would probably regret letting him tease people, but even if for some reason things didn’t work out with Lane, I wasn’t going to deny how I felt.
Gray’s voice held a wicked pleasure. “You’re the best.”
I was an
idiot who was a soft touch. There was a difference. “Just remember that the next time I drive you crazy.”
“Like when you won’t tell me what kind of sexy things Lane wears at home?” I had a feeling he wasn’t going to let up on that.
“Exactly.”
“Maybe. I’m not going to make any promises on that, though.” The teasing faded away, and I heard a serious tone in his voice. “I’m just glad this is working out for you.”
“Thanks.” As wonderful as everything was going, there were still a few things floating around in my head. But I wasn’t sure how much I should share with Gray so I went with the easiest. “The only thing that’s bugging me is that I haven’t been invited to his work yet. And before you can ask, no, I haven’t asked him to come to my work.”
Gray snorted, making me feel like I had to explain it more. “He’s been busy this week, and I didn’t want to put anything else on his plate. He’s a worrier, and the idea seemed to make him nervous.”
“Nervous because you work in a tattoo place with needles and creepy things, or nervous because he’s not sure if you’ve told anyone else about him and he doesn’t know how people will react?” Gray didn’t even have to pause before the question popped out.
Hmm.
“He knows I’m not in the closet. We’ve talked about that.” In vague and more specific terms as well. I wasn’t sure if the analogy of being in the closet was the right way to explain it or not. Being oblivious wasn’t the same as keeping things private.
“But there’s a difference between being willing to hold his hand in public and introducing him to friends and coworkers.” He said it like it was obvious, but I wasn’t sure it made sense.
“No, there’s not. Why would there be?”
Gray laughed, but it had a sour ring to it. “There is. Trust me.”
Something in his voice made me want to reach out and give him a hug. I had to settle for something less tangible, though. “I’m sorry, man.”
“Not your fault, but let’s just say that some guys who are still trying to figure things out don’t make the best decisions.” The sadness that was threaded through the words made it hard to know what to do. I wanted to let him know I was here for him, but I didn’t want to push him if he didn’t want to talk about it.
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