Wycked Escape (Wycked Obsession Book 3)

by Wynne Roman

  “You think I don’t want you?”

  “Jesus, Noah, don’t play games with me. I really can’t take it tonight.” I’m horrified when my voice cracks, anger and humiliation twisting around to create frustrated tears.

  Nonononono! A new prayer settles over my mind. Do not cry! Do not fucking cry. Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough tonight?

  “I get it,” I hurry on, desperately trying to switch things up. Anything to end this. “You’ve had amazing sex with some of the most beautiful women in the world, with groupies who want to do what you do, and that’s not changing. Who wants to waste their time on shit that was disappointing the first time around?”

  I breathe, pretend it doesn’t carry a ragged edge. “Like I said, I get it. So let’s just act like this never. Fucking. Happened.”

  For somebody who doesn’t swear a lot, I’ve said fuck about a million times tonight. I can’t regret it, though. I have to make Noah understand how serious I am about all this.

  Unprecedented cussing ought to do it.

  “You think I don’t want you?” He says it again, harder and fiercer this time.

  Why is he pushing this?

  “Let it go, Noah. Please.”

  I hate that I’m losing my edge. I sound awful, needy, but this is the last straw. I’m this close to going over the edge, and I feel powerless to stop it.

  “You think I don’t fucking want you?”

  I catch a quick movement in the darkness, and then I’m stumbling forward. Noah has hold of my upper arm, and he tugs me toward him. Before I realize what he’s about, he plants my hand firmly against his crotch.

  “Does that fucking feel like I don’t want you?”

  He’s hard.

  Jesus. I lose everything except confused wonder. I can’t move, can’t think, can only allow that his very erect penis is so, so hard under my palm.

  My fingers curl around him automatically, testing the length and girth of him through his boxers. I don’t mean to, but I can’t stop myself, either. Oh, my God! Has he gotten bigger since I last touched him? Is that even possible?

  His hand clamps down over mine, holding it still. “Jesus, woman, you want me to blow my load like this?”

  “I . . . you . . . you’re hard.”

  “Fuck, yeah, I’m hard. Been hard since the night you backed up and planted your ass against me in front of the sports bar.”

  “But, I . . . you . . .” Why is he hard for me? The words won’t come.

  I hear a low chuckle, but there’s an edge to it. “Cat got your tongue, sweetness?”

  I can see well enough to know that his shadow self is moving. His hand still traps mine against him, and then his mouth is right there. Close enough that I can feel his breath on my face. I recognize a slight twinge of alcohol, and think of the bottle of whiskey we shared only days ago.

  “You . . . don’t tease me,” I whisper, because it’s all I can do. Can’t think. Can’t put the pieces together. I’m totally lost.

  “Who says I’m teasing?” His voice is low, deliberate, and then his teeth close over my bottom lip. “I was giving you an out. Didn’t want to take advantage of you when your emotions are fucked up, but it’s too late now.”

  “You . . . didn’t want to take advantage of me?”

  His tongue touches the place where he bit my lip. “I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit in my life, Paige, and you know it. But taking advantage of women who are too emotional to know what they really want isn’t on my playlist.”

  I take a step toward him, because I have to. It’s like being part of a magnetic set, and I’m compelled to fill the tiny bit of empty space between us. The instant I do, Noah’s sensuous little bite turns into something far, far different.

  He swipes his tongue over the seam of my lips, then bottom and top, and finally he kisses me. Fully.

  My mouth opens under his, and he takes the invitation. He slips his tongue in, strokes languidly about, and brings every nerve in my body wide awake. My nipples go hard, and butterfly awareness tingles my core.

  I’m aware, and yet lost in sensation. Vaguely, I wonder how such an overwhelming reaction can come from just a kiss, and then I lose interest in the idea when he pulls me closer. I wrap my arms around his neck, shove my hands into his hair, and mimic his every movement. When his tongue retreats, mine follows, and he sucks me forward until we find the heat inside his mouth.

  I moan, because the taste of him is bold and strong and masculine, just like I remember. His lips move to deepen the angle of the kiss, and it’s so damn easy to forget everything except him.

  Noah.

  He pulls back but for just a second before he recaptures my mouth. He taunts and teases, his teeth nip, his tongue soothes. He kisses me again and again and again, and I kiss him back the same way.

  “Last chance, sweetness,” he groans against my mouth. “You sure you want this?”

  Am I? But I know the truth and can’t hide from it any longer.

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything. Whatever you do, do not stop touching me.”

  I kiss him again, or does he kiss me? More than that, where does my mouth end and his begin? Does it even matter?

  I squeal as he swings me up into his arms, and we’re moving. He follows me down onto the bed, still kissing me, and when his lips move over my cheek, my jaw, I let out a soft, satisfied breath. He settles his attention on my neck, and I tilt my head back to give him better access.

  “That’s it, baby,” he mutters against my throat and swipes his tongue over the dip where I know he can feel my pulse. It’s pounding, but I don’t care. I don’t want him to stop!

  My hands are still in his hair, and they tangle there to hold him close. He licks his way back up to my mouth, and then he’s kissing me again. Again. Again.

  “Noah.” His name is a groan, a whisper, a prayer. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I can’t worry about it. I’ve lost the ability to do anything but feel, and I want what only this man can give me.

  “What do you want, baby?”

  “You.”

  His lips travel back the way they came, down over my jawline, my throat, and then he goes farther. My collarbone, the plane of my chest, the first rise of my breasts. My nipples tighten again, as if they weren’t already hard and begging.

  “You mean like this?”

  “Yesss.” I draw the word out.

  “What about this?”

  His hand moves to my hip, slipping under my tank top. His fingers skim over my belly button, my stomach, and my skin pebbles.

  “Yes!”

  “And this?”

  His hand starts upward, and this time my shirt goes with him. It’s up, up, over my breasts, and then he tugs it over my head before I quite know what he’s doing.

  “Noah.” I can only say his name this time.

  “Like this?” he demands as his lips return to the swell of my breasts. He kisses all around them, his mouth open and hot and wet, and my core tightens with need. I’m suddenly all sensation. My nipples ache for him to touch me there, but he doesn’t.

  “What are you doing to me?” I whisper hoarsely.

  “Oh, baby, I’m just getting started.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Noah

  I drag my fingertips along the path my mouth just laid, making it a point to avoid Paige’s nipples. I need to ramp up her desire, get her as hot as I am, because I don’t know how long I can last.

  That’s how bad I want this woman.

  “Please, Noah.” The need in her voice satisfies me, and my cock twitches in response.

  “Please what?”

  Her hands drop to my shoulders, she slides them between us, wraps her fingers around one of her tits, and cups it urgently. She brings it to my lips, offers her nipple to me.

  “This.”

  Wish I could swallow my groan, but I can’t. Paige’s sensitive nipples always drove me a little bit insane. She loved having me play with them, and my
mouth, tongue, teeth, fingers, were always happy to oblige.

  “God, I love your tits,” I murmur reverently as I take one deep in my mouth. I alternate, one and then the other, licking and sucking and scraping my teeth lightly over her pearled nipples.

  Her hips buck against me, and her demand excites me. I shove my hand into her sleep shorts, push them down over her thighs, dance my fingers over the mound of her smooth, shaved pussy. I arouse her just like I teased her nipples, skirting the real prize—her clit this time—and love the moan that’s my reward.

  “You like this, baby?”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Does it make you want my cock?”

  She doesn’t answer in words, just makes heady sounds that go along with her twisting, begging body. Doesn’t matter. Her moan tells me enough.

  I smile, bite her nipple harder, and touch her clit with a light, almost gentle finger. Her hips flex higher. Harder. Sharper. She moans again.

  “Is that a yes?” I do it again, biting and scraping my teeth this time, and pressing my fingers in a hard circle around her clit.

  She gasps, clutches my shoulders, squirms against me for more. Satisfaction roars through me. Making this woman feel good is an amazing high.

  She’s moving her hands again, pushing between us and down until she reaches inside my boxer shorts. One thumb rubs pre-cum over the crown of my dick, around and around, then her other hand fists my cock, stroking with a smooth, knowing rhythm.

  “Oh, no, baby.” My voice is rough. “I want inside you too bad to let you touch me like that.” But my hips thrust up into her grip before I can pull away.

  “Please, Noah,” she pants. “I want to touch you. I . . . need to.”

  “Not as bad as I need to taste you.”

  I pull from her grasp with a slow kiss, drop open-mouthed kisses over her body as I crawl down the bed. I taste the indent of her waist, the curve of her luscious hips, the smooth skin of her thighs. I push her shorts all the way down her legs as I go, toss them behind me into the darkness, and then I’m crouched in the perfect position.

  God, why didn’t I turn on the lights so I could see her pretty pussy?

  I kneel between her legs and she opens for me. I want her knees up, toward her shoulders, leaving her completely open to me, and she doesn’t resist. Even in the dark, I find her wetness easily, soak my fingers in her.

  God, she’s so, so fucking wet.

  But, Jesus, I have to taste her. I’ve missed that so goddamn much. I didn’t realize how much until right this second.

  My tongue flattens on instinct, and I drag it around in a nice, broad circle. Side to side, back to front. Reverse. Again. I lick her like she’s made of the most delicious ice cream—and she is.

  She goddamn is.

  “Still sweet,” I mutter against her pussy, and then I fuck my tongue into her. I do it again. Again. Once. Twice. Three times. Lick her again. Then fuck her again.

  “So. Fucking. Sweet,” I groan. “Never tasted anything so good.”

  “Noah, oh, God.”

  The words are guttural and followed by a groan, and then her hands are in my hair, urging me on, holding me close. I do it all again, again, but this time I detour. I stop at her clit and suck it into my mouth. Her hips shoot up off the bed.

  “Ooohhh!”

  Paige’s moan falls off into a guttural, needy demand, and so I do it again. Swirl my tongue around, find the sharp bundle of nerves over and over. She pants my name with every stroke of my tongue, every time I suck her deep. Her pleasure goes straight through me, to a place I hadn’t realized I’d lost until now. My dick grows harder—Jesus, is that possible?—and I know I can’t hold off for long.

  My tongue darts up to her clit, and I slip a finger into her. Goddamn, how can she still be so tight? Like a virgin tight. I mean, I don’t know how big Drake or that college boyfriend of hers were, but . . . hell. Did they have mini-dicks?

  I stroke in and out, add a second finger, scissor against the close, delicious fit, and worry her clit with my tongue. Her fingers tighten in my hair, and her breathing sounds like a sob.

  “You okay, baby?” I kiss her pussy, move my fingers faster.

  “Yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes!”

  I crook my fingers to find her G-spot. She gasps the instant I touch it, and I take full advantage of the knowledge. My mouth works in time with my hand, and then my name is torn from her on a scream as the orgasm shudders through her.

  “Noah! Oh, God, Noah!”

  I fuck her through it, slowing until my touch is almost gentle and her breathing is faint. She’s draped in a boneless heap on the mattress, her hands limp in my hair. Her satisfaction sends pleasure coursing through me.

  “Oh, my God, Noah,” she whispers.

  “You look beautiful when you come.”

  She huffs out a small laugh. “It’s dark. You can’t see me.”

  “I could hear you.” I stroke one hand over her hip. “Feel you. Didn’t need anything else.”

  “And now?” Her fingers start massaging my head.

  “Now?”

  “What do you need?”

  “Oh, baby.” I try to laugh, but it comes out rough. I haven’t forgotten my cock for one second. “I need to be inside you.”

  “Thank, God,” she whispers fervently.

  I want to smile, to laugh, to take my fucking time. Do more kissing and licking and sucking. Cover every inch of her beautiful body with my mouth, my tongue, my hands. My cock is having none of it.

  Never wanted—needed—a woman the way I do Paige. Now. Here. Tonight.

  Should that bother me? Some distant awareness tries to panic, but I’m too far gone for anything but fucking. Urgency pushes everything aside, replaced by the sensation of blood surging through my body, my dick, and the pre-cum that still leaks from my slit.

  I surge up her soft, delicious curves so I can trap her mouth with mine. It’s a fierce kiss that goes on until we’re both out of breath, and then I have to do it again. And once more.

  I reach out, fumble against the bedside table until I manage to get the drawer open. It’s a clusterfuck one handed, but eventually my fingers stumble over a foil packet. Thank God!

  Another deep, breath-stealing kiss, and I pull back. I get the package open, slip the condom on, and even that’s enough to turn up the heat of desire.

  “Jesus, baby. I want you,” I groan as I drag the head of my cock through Paige’s wetness. Up and down, nice and lubricated. “So fucking bad.”

  “Yes, Noah. Oh, please.” She arches against me.

  I push in, just the crown, but it’s enough to earn an odd little noise from Paige. It’s both relief and demand, and so I push in a little farther.

  Her breathing cuts off.

  “You there with me, baby?”

  “Oh, yes, Noah. Please! All the way. All the way. I need you!”

  I push in a little farther, try to be gentle, but it’s no use. I need her as bad as she needs me, and her tight, perfect pussy is like coke to an addict. I have to go all the way.

  I bury myself all the way to my base, and it’s like coming home. Coming. Fucking. Home. The place I should have never left.

  “Oh, God, yes!” Her hips surge upward.

  “Damn,” I mutter against her mouth. My tongue darts forward, tangles with hers, and I kiss her again. “Baby, you’re so tight.” I flex my hips against hers without pulling out, making the most of what’s already between us. “So. God. Damn. Tight.”

  Breath saws out of her. “Oohh.” She kisses me. “It’s you. You’re the one. You’re . . . oh, my God. Big. So big. I feel you everywhere.”

  “I feel you.” I repeat her words back to her. “And I have to move, baby.” I arch my hips just once. “I have to move.”

  “Yes! Please.”

  My strokes are short, shallow, and my arms tremble with the effort to go as slow as I can. It’s worth it, though, because it feels so damn good. Paige’s growing cries tell me she feels it, to
o.

  “You like this big cock, baby?” I take a chance, go deeper, pull out farther. Do it again.

  “Yes. Oh, God, yes.” I can barely understand the words mingled with her cries.

  “Want more?”

  “Yes!”

  Another kiss, and then I lean back far enough to gather her legs to drape over my arms. “Like this?” I start a new, smooth rhythm and sink all the way into her again.

  The deep, guttural groan is my answer. Her hips push up, and the tight, wet walls of her pussy stretch around my girth. The pressure is amazing, the friction intense, and I know in that instant that manwhore Noah Dexter—who’s fucked multiple women like it’s a goddamn marathon—isn’t going to last.

  I’ve been hard for this woman for too long.

  The rhythm sets itself, and I’m thrusting deep and pulling out slowly, then slamming back into her. Paige moves with me, demanding and teasing and promising more. So much more. I drop my head to suck on one of her nipples, and her cunt tightens around me.

  I laugh in satisfaction. “You like that?”

  “You know I do!”

  I do it again, still moving, and every clench of her pussy destroys my ability to think a little bit more. I can only feel, and every bit of my awareness is focused on the overwhelming sensations of desire and satisfaction and contentment that stroke over my cock.

  Jesus, what is this woman doing to me?

  “Noah!”

  “What, baby?”

  “Harder. Faster.” She pants and shoves her hips up against me. “I’m so close. I need to come. For you, sweetheart. I need to come.”

  I can’t hold back. Not after that. I fuck her harder, faster, just like she asked, and she gives as much as she takes. Enough that my balls tighten, and I know I’m on the edge of coming, too.

  “Yes, Noah! Yes!”

  Her hips thrust up, and I feel it. Her orgasm races through her, and the walls of her pussy throb as they pulse. My balls draw up, I feel a tingle, and then I’m right behind her. I come harder than I ever have, filling the condom. I can’t stop moving, my hips pumping deep and hard like she wanted, until I finally collapse in euphoric, soul-stealing fulfillment.