Page 84 of Homebound

Dumbass. I carried around the same condom for five years when I was a virgin, but of course I forget it with the woman of my dreams.

“I don’t care. I’m on birth control, and I’ve never had sex without one. I trust you more than anyone in the world,” she begs, fingers twisting in my wet shirt. “I want you. Only you. Do you…” She hiccups. “Do you not want me?”

That breaks my resolve.

“Dakota,” I growl, forcing her to look at me in the shower rain. “You’re the only woman I want. Hell, you’re the only woman I see. I’m desperate for every part of you.”

With a heavy groan, I surrender myself to her. I kiss her fiercely and slide two fingers into her, feeling the intense, velvety heat of her pussy, and I nearly come in my jeans at the warmth. I have to sink my teeth into her shoulder so I don’t lose control.

She loses all control and starts thrusting against my hand.

This is too much.

It’s all too much.

The friction against my cock makes it throb, the pleasure bordering on pain, but I like it almost as much as her nails digging into my back. With my other hand, I clutch her ass, pulling her impossibly close, our bodies melding together under the cascade of water, her wetness coating my fingers.

“Take what you need from me,” I groan against her lips. “I’m yours, so take it all.”

34

IT’S A PRIVILEGE

DAKOTA

I’m an open wound. Every part of me is raw.

But this, this is what I need tonight. To feel something good, something real. After what happened today, I need to feel someone’s heart beating against mine.

And not just anyone’s—Wyatt’s.

I throw my head up to the moon, straddling his hand as I try to drown out my dark thoughts and focus on the man beneath me. His hot tongue tracing up the curve of my neck.

Water droplets cascade down my flushed skin in the heat of the night. The cords of his neck are taut, his jaw clenched in concentration as he rubs my clit with the pad of his thumb.

But I need more.

So much more.

His hand pumps inside me, and I close my eyes, furrowing my brow in concentration. But in the darkness, thoughts of the rodeo, the screaming, the sirens all creep back into my mind.

“Hey.” Wyatt grips my chin, forcing our eyes to connect. His gaze darkens to pools of moss, filling with an intensity that makes my breath hitch. “Eyes on me. I don’t want you thinking of anything else when you’re with me. If you need something to focus on, watch me.”

The command in his tone sucks the worries right out of my mind. I’ve always had a hard time focusing during sex, but not now.

Not with him.

His mouth crashes down on mine, hard and fierce, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever. He stands from the shower floor, picking me up right along with him, all while keeping his lips locked with mine. It’s like he doesn’t want to stop kissing me even for a moment. He tries to take off his wet shirt while keeping his lips on me, but when he can’t, he groans in frustration. He only pulls back for a second to rip off all his clothing, and then his lips are back on mine.

I barely hear his belt hit the floor.

He steps out of his wet jeans, leaving the rest of his clothing in a puddle on the ground. I don’t even get a chance to appreciate all those naked muscles in the moonlight, but his drugging kisses are worth it.

His hand slams against the shower slats like he’s trying to hold himself up. That noise, knowing I’m the one doing that to him, making it sound like he can’t handle any more, turns me on more than anything, but it’s not enough.

“Please, Wyatt. I need to feel you inside me.”

That seems to make him more feral. We’re both standing, so he grips the back of my knees and lifts me off the ground, forcing me to wrap my legs around his strong waist. He cradles my head as he slams me against the shower wall, protecting me. Something about that gesture is so sweet it brings tears to my eyes. Embarrassment simmers in my chest because I never cry during sex, but I’m feeling all kinds of raw, so I kiss him harder.