Page 170 of The Reason I Married Him
While her breathing becomes erratic, I continue to work her, to play with her, to bring her to another apex because all I want is to hear her one more time. See her collapse into pleasure one more fucking time . . .
“Oh God, yes, Wyatt. Oh fuck, I can’t . . . I don’t think . . . mmmmmm, fuck.” She grips my head, keeping me on her breasts so I nibble on them, tugging with my teeth. I’m probably pulling a little too hard, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
It actually seems to spur her on even more as she lifts into the air, silence falling past her parted lips.
“Aubree, baby, I want you to come again. Give me that orgasm. Let me hear it.”
She writhes.
She thrashes.
She digs her fingers into my scalp.
“Fuck, Wyatt . . . oh God.”
“You’re close. Come, baby . . . come for me.”
She groans, drapes her hand over her eyes, and then her body tenses. Her mouth falls open. A feral cry flies out of her as she convulses beneath me, her entire body shuddering as she moans out my name.
So fucking hot.
I keep the vibrator on her sensitive clit until she squeezes her legs together, and I know there’s nothing else she can give me at the moment. So I turn it off and toss it to the side. Then I move down to her pussy, spread her legs one more time, and press a soft, caressing kiss against her clit.
I watch her wet her lips as she slowly relaxes into the mattress, looking like she was just put through a vigorous, soul-defining exercise.
After a few seconds of her catching her breath, she opens those beautiful eyes and looks up at me as I move toward the top of the bed. Her expression reads satisfied but also confused.
I brush a piece of hair out of her face and then gently cup her cheek. “You okay?” I ask her.
She lightly nods her head.
“Then why does it look like you’re stunned?”
“Be-because I am,” she says. “I, uh . . . that was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”
“Trust me when I say, me too. Not sure I’ve ever come like that before, but fuck would I do it again.”
She smiles but then worries her lip as she looks away. I know that avoidance. I can practically hear the wheels in her head turning as she tries to piece this together and make sense of it all.
“God, Wyatt,” she whispers. Please don’t say it, please don’t say it. “What are we even doing?”
She fucking said it.
Just like last night, she’s pulling away and distancing herself. She realizes that she gave in to temptation, and now she’s slowly trying to back away. And just like last night, it doesn’t hurt any less.
“I, uh, I don’t know,” I say even though I know damn well whatI’mdoing. I’m starting to like a girl I shouldn’t fucking like. I’m starting to develop feelings.
Cravings.
Addictions.
Needs and wants.
Looking unsure, she says, “I don’t know if we should be doing this. I don’t know if we should be crossing this line.”
And just like that, poof, all of the hopes and needs and wants vanish without a trace.
This was what I was afraid of, of her saying those exact words. Not because I don’t agree, but because Idoagree with her. We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s dangerous, given our situation. But a big part of me wanted her to live in a state of delusion with me, where we didn’t think about the future. A part of me wished that we could shove all of the complications away and just fucking enjoy. Live in the moment. Explore every last part of each other.
