Page 98 of Two Wrongs
He laughs, the brush of air cooling my hard, wet nipples. I resist taking his head between my hands and directing him to lavish them again. To suck, lick, devour. Then start all over again. I think I’m whimpering.
‘Your nipples are so big... so sensitive.’Let’s stop with the running commentary and do something about it instead.His mouth covers me again, and I cry out from relief. ‘How’s that feel, baby?’
‘If you have to ask...’ His fingers hook into the sides of my blue cotton knickers. ‘If you... ’ He slides them down my legs until they pool at my feet. ‘If you h-have to ask, you’re doing it—’
‘I’m doin’ it all right,’ he replies in a low growl. ‘Get your ass on the bed and spread those legs wide.’
I don’t so much comply as almost faint from desire, my bum falling to the bed. I have nothing left to say; nothing I could articulate as his palm centres on my chest, pressing my body flat across the bed.
His fingers tight on my thighs, I’m cleaved—split in two—as his tongue, honed to an arrow, to a sharp point, parts me. I cry out. I fist the covers. Melt against the bed.
‘That’s it, baby.’ His words vibrate deliciously. ‘Let me hear you.’
Oh. God. Oh, fuck. It’s been so long.
‘I know, baby. For me, too.’
I realise the words weren’t spoken solely in my head, and his reply? I don’t have time to process what that could mean as he kisses my clit. Kisses it. Makes out with it until I’m writhing beneath him and he’s feeding his hands under me, drawing my hips from the bed. He envelops my clit with his mouth, sucking and swirling, releasing and repeating until no more words and no more thoughts exist. Just blinding light and sensation from where his tongue meets my body.
The hum of his pleasure between my legs—it’s so much. Too much. I want him to stop, to never stop, but I can’t articulate any of that as I reach the sharp knife of climax, my body rising to meet it.
‘Oh, Dylan.’ I feed my hands into his hair; once I remember that I have hands, that is.
‘I need you inside me. I need you now.’ But he just licks me slowly in response, working me with the full flat of his tongue. ‘Stop, please. It’s too much.’
‘No, baby,’ his voice rumbles back. ‘You’re just out of practise.’
‘No, please. I need you.’ I push at his shoulders and grasp the collar of his shirt until, with one last kiss between my legs, he stands and begins to strip.
Shirt. Boots. Jeans. Thumbs hooked into the waist of his black boxer briefs.
‘Quit looking at me like that,’ he demands, though smiling, a flash of white teeth peeking through kiss-plumped lips.
I swallow, and my tongue flicks out to touch my own kiss-swollen mouth.
‘I have no idea what you mean.’
‘Aye, sure.’ But then his smile falls. ‘When this happens, there’s no going back. Not for me.’
The boxers come off, and while the sight of him naked in my darkened bedroom is distracting, I can’t move on from his words. He lays the length of his body along mine, his eyes shining in the darkness.
‘We’ve fucked this up big time.’ His fingers trail my cheek, my neck, his thumb dragging over my mouth before his lips cover mine. ‘Give me another chance, Ivy. Let me love you again.’
Chapter Forty-One
Dylan
My heart beats wildlyas I wait for her answer, my cock screaming for release. But the silence between us—it’s deafening. Frightening.
‘I hurt you; I know that. In so many ways. But if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, let me do that.’
‘You can’t—want—just because of the baby.’ Her words are jerky, and she looks to be trying to sit straight.To escape. ‘I promise I won’t push you out—’
‘No, Edera.’ I push up on one elbow and stare her down. ‘I know we’re both to blame for fucking up our marriage. But this isn’t about the baby.’ Shit. It sort of is. ‘Look, the idea of being a father—being responsible for someone else—has given me a sudden sense of perspective. It makes me want to stop fucking about. . . dithering, you know?’ Her expression is as empty as a crappy script. ‘This—being the father toourchild—has given me the balls to ask. Please, Ivy, say we can try again.’
I take her wrist between my fingers and bring her hand to my chest. ‘Feel that? If I had any more love in my heart, I think it’d burst.’
I’ll never be a writer. I only speak others’ words, but those things I just said? They’re original. And the truth. And got me her stunned expression. Got me her shy smile and the dip of her mouth to mine. Her kisses are bottomless. Endless. Warm, sweet, and wet. I’d let her kiss me forever without coming up for breath.
