Page 159 of The Reason I Married Him
“Everything okay?” Hattie asks as she leans back.
“Um . . . I don’t know,” I say. “Let me go check.”
I stand as well and adjust my skirt as I move through the crowd and straight back toward the bathrooms, where I see Wyatt disappear into one. Since they’re all single toilets, I lean in close to his door and knock.
“Wyatt, it’s me. I just wanted?—”
The door flies open, and I’m caught by his strong arms before I fly too far forward. I’m pulled into the bathroom right before the door slams shut behind me.
Locked.
And then I’m pressed up against it, only for Wyatt’s mouth to come crashing down on mine.
I’m so stunned at first that I don’t kiss him back, but when he hikes me up and wraps my legs around his waist before pinning me against the door again, I realize exactly what’s going on.
And I want it.
I want it more than anything I think I’ve wanted in my life.
I grip his cheeks, and I open my mouth for him as his tongue dives and twists against mine. His hands slide up my sides, under my shirt, and to my bra, where he pulls the cups down and presses his palms right to my tits. And he squeezes.
“Fuck,” I say as I come up for air. “Wyatt, what’s . . .”
“I need this,” he says. “Fuck, do I need this.” That’s when he pulses his hips into mine, and I feel just how much he needs it. “Tell me you want this, you want me.”
His lips move down my jaw, to my neck, and I hold him as my entire body melts into him. “I want you, Wyatt.”
“Good,” he replies as he moves his mouth down my body, lifts my shirt, and then sucks my nipple between his lips.
“Oh my God.” I clench my legs around his waist. My hand slides up his neck to his hair, and I tug on it as he tugs on my nipple.
With his other hand, he moves up to my other breast, and he gently starts massaging it, making me feel all kinds of crazy just before he pinches it between his fingers.
“Wyatt,” I moan as my head hits the door.
The scruff of his beard mars my skin as he slides his mouth to my other breast, taking my nipple between his lips and then fully sucking on it.
His hips thrust into me.
His hands start to own me with every pass over my skin.
And just as I start to settle into the feel of him, he releases me, letting me stand back up on my own.
“What—” I start to say, but then the man is on his knees, and his hands are moving up my skirt, reaching the waistband of my thong.
He looks up at me. “I need you on my tongue. Stop me now if you don’t want this.”
Umm, is he insane? There will be no stopping this. None.
I don’t say a word, just move my hand over his hair, which is all the invitation he needs. He pulls down my thong, and I step out of it right before he slips my thong into his back pocket. Then he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, spreads me with his fingers, and his mouth is on me.
Warm, wet, delicious.
“Oh my God,” I say, completely taken aback by the way he presses his tongue against my clit. Taking long, languid strokes, he makes sure to lick every part of me.
This . . . this sensation is new.
The fury of his mouth.
