“Wait,” she said, sitting up. “I don’t know...” The look of panic on her face melted something in him.
“You’re amazing. I don’t care whether or not you showered,” he said. He was a man who wanted to explore every inch of a woman. He wasn’t squeamish. Wasn’t afraid. He loved tasting women. And he would damn well taste Harley. He’d been imagining devouring her just this way almost since the first day they met. He would not be denied now.
She still seemed timid, and so he pushed her knees farther apart. She let him and he dipped down, kissing her clit first, gently. Then he lapped at it, just a little tease, and then he worked his tongue, faster and slower, responding to her body. “You taste so good,” he told her and her body relaxed a bit. That’s right, he thought. This is what it’s supposed to be like. You should be worshipped just like this every day for the rest of your life. “Tell me what feels good,” he commanded, breaking from his work. He dipped down and licked her once more. “Fast?” He flicked his tongue. “Or slow?”
“Slow,” she murmured, so softly he almost didn’t hear her. He knew, even if she didn’t, that sex was all about personal preference. What pushed one woman over the edge, completely turned off another. He knew it was about getting to know each woman, and he badly wanted to know Harley’s every want. Before they were done, he’d become an expert on her. Hell, he’d get his Harley Vega PhD. She groaned, and her hands came to his hair, grabbing a handful. He knew he was doing something right.
“Faster,” she told him after a bit. “Yes. Faster still.”
Her wish was his command. A few more seconds and she tightened her grip on his hair.
“There,” she breathed, almost strangled. “Right there.” Her back arched and every single muscle tensed. He knew the signs, knew what was coming, as Harley griped his hair harder. He didn’t mind. Because she let out an amazing shout, completely free, not caring who heard. It was like another being had taken control of her, something had been ripped loose inside, something primal and perfect. He stood, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, her juices on his chin. Delicious. Just like her. She lay before him, legs spread and breathing hard.
“We’re not done yet,” he promised her.
“I...” She sucked in a breath. “I’ve never come like that.”
“So hard?” he asked her.
“No.” She sat up on her elbows. “Like...with a man...” She glanced downward.
“You’ve never had a man go down on you?” Wilder froze. What the hell? What kind of men had she dated?
“No. I have. But...” She shifted uneasily. “But they never made me... I mean...” A blush crept up her neck and down her bare breasts.
“Never made you come.” Now, he got the picture. Still, he was stunned. How had they not made her come? Sure, he’d had women who’d had difficulty, sometimes a couple who only came in very certain positions, and sometimes only with the help of a vibrator, but Harley was not one of those women. He breathed on her and she came. If a man knew even a little bit about how to please a woman with his mouth, she’d come for him. That meant that the men hadn’t even really tried. “That’s a crime,” he said and meant it.
“I didn’t realize it was so good.” She fell back, almost exhausted, her face flushed pink in the afterglow. “I mean, I read about it, but...”
“You can’t find out everything in books.” He held his own cock in his hand now, finding it hard and ready. He took the condom wrapper and ripped it, slipping the latex over himself. “And that was just the first course.”
“What?” She sat up, surprised. “No. I... I mean, I never come more than once.”
Now, he was completely bewildered. Were the only two men she slept with the worst lovers of all time?
“Do not tell me you’ve never had multiple orgasms.”
He rubbed against her, finding her deliciously wet, amazingly ready, and he almost lost his control right then.
“N-no,” she said, squirming a bit beneath his touch. “No, I haven’t.”
“This changes tonight.” He teased her a bit more, as he studied her beautiful bareness. Still unable to believe that two men had made such terrible mistakes with such an amazing woman. It was like hitching a thoroughbred to a plow. Not something that would ever happen under his watch. But right now, he couldn’t think about other men, other lovers. He was all about her soft skin, the smell of her on him, lighting up all the primal parts of his brain. He just wanted to be in her. Fill her. He needed her, more than he’d needed anyone in his whole life.
She’d be his cure. She’d be his answer. He set himself up on his elbows, breaking the kiss and stared into her dark eyes. He waited for her to tell him no, that they’d gone too far. He waited, but no counter came. She was panting beneath him, lips swollen from his kiss. He could wait no longer, looking at her nakedness, feeling the hunger in himself for her. He met her gaze and that took him over the edge. Then, as if his body had a mind of its own, he plunged forward, finding her snug depths, and she gasped, arching upward, her fingernails digging deliciously into his back. This was exactly where he needed to be. He realized that he’d been looking for this place his entire life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HARLEY’S NEED WAS a monster unleashed, and could not be contained. It clawed itself out of her soul and into her brain. She simply could not stop feeding it. Not with Wilder deep inside her, moving slowly at first, and then decidedly faster, he fit in her as if she were made for him, as if this was inevitable between them. And maybe it was. She’d never in her whole life had sex with a near stranger, and yet, here she was, flat on her back in a bed she’d never seen before, wanting nothing more than Wilder to go deeper and harder. Hell, she’d never even come twice during one sexual encounter her whole life. She counted herself lucky if she came at all with the two boyfriends that were more about finishing themselves than making sure she was completely satisfied. As a sex advice columnist, she knew the ridiculousness of it. But she’d always thought that if she just talked about her needs enough they’d be met. But now she realized no amount of talking with her ex-boyfriends would have made them want to make her come. That was something that Wilder was showing her right now. How much he wanted to bring her pleasure, how much he wanted to make sure she came as hard, as fast and as often as possible.
And that undid something in her, unleashed something. Pure animal want. And now that he’d helped her take off her leash, she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to go back. Now, she worried, her need, her want might just burn her alive.
She tried to reason it out, except her brain had shut off. It couldn’t function with the monster of desire shouting in her ear, the monster that needed to be fed. They were finally, at long last, skin against skin, and Wilder was staring at her, right at her, in a way that was both sexy and beyond intimate. He was deep inside her, yet it was the look he was giving her now, the hot desire in his eyes that felt even more intrusive somehow, even more...personal than his body. He wanted her. Wanted her in every way. His eyes told her that he’d have her, too, devour her, pleasure her, worship her. And in that moment, right at that moment, she worried that none of this would ever be casual. Not for her. Maybe she simply wasn’t built for it, but the way Wilder was looking at her right now, part of her was falling in love with him.
This was probably a mistake. She realized that now, her logical brain, but the desire in her didn’t care. The monster in her, newly unleashed, just wanted more of Wilder. More of his mouth. More of his hands. More of his cock. She wanted his come, too, hot, and thick and deep inside her. She wanted to get rid of the condom, which seemed absurd. Beyond absurd. Dangerous. The very thought of that made her gasp in his mouth, lift her own hips up to his and meet him thrust for thrust. She wanted to make him lose his will, lose his control. She wanted to milk him in the most primal way. She would come. She would come hard, and fast and dirty. She let out a primal cry when
she came, the monster inside her letting loose at last, wild, and hungry and free.
And then he thrust deep inside her and he, too, came with a bellowing cry, primal and monstrous. He collapsed on her, the weight of him delicious on her chest. They panted together, breath coming hard, on the bed. Eventually, he pulled out. And then he cursed.
“The condom broke,” he said, meeting her gaze. She glanced down and saw, yes, the thing had split, nearly in two. She’d never seen that before, but how many columns had she written just about this? How often had she counseled panicked readers to go find Plan B at their local drugstore?
She sat up, abruptly, worried that somehow her wanting his come had made this happen. Now, he was in her, deep inside her. He was a part of her, just as she had wanted, and yet, she saw on his face that he wasn’t happy about it.
“That never happens. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said and meant it.
“No, it’s not okay.” He seemed to be beating himself up. In that second, she wondered if he regretted having sex at all. Surely, he’d had a broken condom before. Surely, with all those women, this must’ve happened before. The burning desire in her cooled. The monster in her retreating back into the darkness where it lived.
“I should’ve asked. Are you on...?” The normally silver-tongued, quick-witted Wilder seemed to be at a loss for words.
“Yes. I’m on the pill,” she told him, sitting up, realizing that he was worried she might be pregnant, and that the frown on his face told her he wouldn’t be thrilled at the prospect. After all, an accidental pregnancy for a wealthy man could be very costly. Yet, why did it irk so much? What was she expecting? Him to want to give her a baby? Want to have a happy family together? They’d only just met. This was supposed to be casual sex. Casual sex should never end in a pregnancy. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be casual anymore, would it? She was being irrational. Unreasonable. She was acting like she was in a relationship when she wasn’t. Because this was the first time that she’d just had sex with someone she had no intention of falling in love with. She wasn’t even sure how that worked.
They could have no real relationship. So this shouldn’t be that hard.
“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have...” He was still talking but she wished he’d stop. Because it reminded her that this was temporary. And she wasn’t sure she wanted it to be temporary. Because sex with Wilder Lange had been some of the hottest, most amazing of her life. She didn’t want it to end. But it would end. She’d made a deal with him. Casual sex, nothing more.
She glanced under a nearby chair and ottoman but couldn’t find her underwear anywhere. No matter, she had others. Harley needed to get out of this room, compose herself before she did something stupid like cry.
“Harley.” His voice was filled with concern, and she hated it. He was handling her, placating her, now that he’d gotten all that he wanted. Now that he’d challenged her rules and she’d immediately caved for him.
“I think I’d better go...” She backed away from him, unable to meet his eye.
“We should talk about this.”
She almost wanted to bark a laugh. That was her line. She was the sexologist. The one who always insisted on talking everything out. But she couldn’t talk about this. She barely even understood her feelings herself.
“We’ve done enough for tonight,” she managed, and pulled on her shirt.
“Wait. Harley.” He grabbed her wrist. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” That was such a lie. She pulled down her shirt. If she could only find her underwear. If only she could get her cold hard reason back. Why was she acting like a little girl? Pouting, almost. Because why? He didn’t want to give her an accidental baby? She was being absurd.
“It doesn’t seem like you’re fine.” He locked eyes with her with an intensity that demanded the truth. Except she wasn’t prepared to give it to him.
“I... I am. Just... I’m embarrassed.” The lies were coming thick and fast now. “That I told you about not coming... About...my past boyfriends.” It was an excuse that sounded as good as any.
“That? Please. I was glad to show those guys up.” He laid back on the bed and put his hands behind his head. “They should’ve treated you better.”
True, she guessed. Although they stuck with her for months. Wilder wasn’t willing to promise even that. What was wrong with her? She wanted to shake herself. She was being stupid. She was acting like she’d wanted an accidental pregnancy. Which she didn’t. Not at all. So why would she be angry with Wilder for worrying about one? What was he supposed to do? Look at the broken condom, and get down on one knee and propose marriage? The thought was crazy. But she had these feelings in her now, feelings that made no logical sense. She wasn’t sure she liked them. She had to stop acting like a teenager. She was a grown woman with control over her feelings.
“Come back to bed. I have about a dozen more positions I want to try.” Wilder spread out his perfectly sculpted body on the bed. She was tempted. God, was she. He grabbed her wrist.
“But if this is casual, I mean. I won’t sleep here, so...”
“Why wouldn’t you sleep in my bed?”
Because sleeping is the most intimate thing you could do with another person, she wanted to shout. Because it’s where you are both most vulnerable, asleep, unconscious and naked, and...
“Because it’s casual.”
He tugged on her arm, pulling her to the bed. “Casual doesn’t mean we can’t sleep together. Share the same bed.”
“It doesn’t?” Now, she was confused. What the hell did casual mean if not sneaking out of someone’s bed after the deed was done?
“You have so much to learn, grasshopper.” He pulled her on top of him and she went, inhaling his scent, dizzy with it. She wanted to stay. Wanted to let him make her come again.
“Come on. It’s time for another session. I want to make you come with my mouth again.”
She hesitated. Her knees felt a little weak. The monster she thought was sleeping woke once more. “One time should be enough, though.”
“One time is never enough,” he said. “That’s the first lesson I’m going to teach you.”
* * *
Wilder was spent. He’d fallen asleep sometime around dawn and slept like the dead. He woke slowly, to the delicious weight of Harley’s head on his arm. She was breathing heavily, and the light was starting to come in through the curtains. Was it noon? Later? He had no idea. What he did know was that he’d made Harley come half a dozen more times, exploring her body in a way she’d never been explored before. The woman hadn’t even done a reverse cowgirl, which boggled his mind. Who were these talentless hacks out there calling themselves men? Who were the two men she’d given herself to? They ought to be hauled out of bed and shot. Or at least publically humiliated.
Harley knew her way around his body, for sure, but she’d been systematically cheated out of decent sex. It was a crime. Thankfully, he’d done a pretty decent job of rectifying that in one night. And planned to keep on rectifying it for the next many nights.
Because, hallelujah, Harley was the miracle cure he thought she was. His body worked. He knew men took that for granted every day, but for Wilder, it had been a worry at the back of his mind for so long that he wasn’t sure he was even normal. Wasn’t sure he was even a man. He’d been questioning his own manhood for more than a year. Hell, he’d been questioning his sanity. He’d had his pick of gorgeous women—models, actresses and more—all eager to please him, eager to do everything he wanted, and yet, he hadn’t wanted any of them. As horrible as it sounded, he felt like a man at an expensive restaurant that couldn’t muster up enough appetite to eat anything on the menu.
But then Harley Vega walked into his life. And he knew hunger. Boy, did he. He felt like a starving man. He’d never had a woman like he’d had Harley last night: manically, in every
position he could think of, again and again, as if he’d never tire of her. Because he wanted to devour every inch of her, because he was starving for a meal only she could provide. He’d been so damn excited to be aroused by someone that he simply hadn’t wanted to stop. He’d come again, and again and again, a record for him as a nearly forty-year-old man. Harley made him feel like he was twenty once more. Like he couldn’t imagine losing a hard-on ever again in his life. That had been the most amazing, thorough, delicious sex he’d ever had. Harley had been an amazing lover, sensitive, selfless, hot. And seeing her face light up with delight as he showed her things she’d never seen, well, that had just been the icing on the cake.
It made him feel needed. Wanted. Necessary. Manly. There wasn’t any other way to describe it. He felt whole, and strong, and that had everything to do with Harley Vega. His thoughts filled with her skin, the smell of her, the feel of her, and he itched for another round. The idea was ridiculous. They’d nearly chafed themselves raw the night before and he was ready for more. Harley had saved him, of this he had no doubt, but he needed her to save him over and over again.
He shifted a little, his arm having fallen asleep beneath Harley’s head. She moaned a little and rolled into him, burying her face in his chest. At that moment the feeling to protect her came on so strong, it felt like a blow. He felt possessive in a way he’d not felt with another woman. This woman had saved him, and he’d saved her back, and she was his. He knew, of course, that a person didn’t belong to another person, but as he pulled her in tighter with his arms, he didn’t care. He wanted to protect her. Wanted to keep her coming today and all the days from now on. The feeling was an unusual one. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Usually, when a woman slept in his bed, even for a few weeks at a time, typically the longest his relationships went, he never felt attached. Not like this. Not like he wanted to take care of her, make sure she never wanted for anything, most of all the pleasure she deserved.
The Sex Cure Page 11