Page 87 of Wicked & Wildflower

“Fuck yes, Dal. Use me, baby. Fuck my face. Take what you need.” My words vibrate against her center as she bucks against my face, using it to fuel the friction that makes her come undone. I stick my tongue out, letting her grind over it to find her pleasure.

“Everett,” she pants. “Everett…I’m going…I’m going…”

Knowing she’s close, I begin pumping my cock faster, hoping I can hold out and go with her. I drag my free hand up her thigh, holding her open with my shoulder. Splaying my palm against her upper abdomen, I press down lightly, adding just enough pressure to make her explode.

I take her clit between my teeth again as she continues to move against my mouth. As I bite down gently, her entire body tenses. She cries out louder than she has all night, legs wrapping around my neck and tightening almost painfully. Pleasure zips down my back and gathers in my spine, red hot and blazing. I fuck myself faster, feeling Dahlia tremble above me.

The moment she falls back against the desk, her body quivering as she cries out, I move my mouth to her core, slipping my tongue inside her. Her fingers knot in my hair, heels digging into my back, her entire body clinging to my face as if it’s her center of gravity.

That red hot heat explodes into white hot pleasure, my mind going fuzzy and blank as my climax barrels through me. I feel my release coating my hand just as Dahlia’s floods my mouth. I keep my tongue inside her, letting her ride out her orgasm on my face. She’s still calling out my name, tightening around my tongue, drowning me in her pleasure, and I think it’s the closest I’ve ever been to heaven. I’m still spilling into my hand, pumping myself, lost inside her.

“Quiero vivir, ahogarme y morir entre tus piernas, cariño.”

I don’t even know what the fuck I’m saying, what language I’m speaking. All I know is I can’t get enough of her, of the feel and taste and sound of her. I’m addicted, and I don’t know how I’ll ever recover from this. I didn’t even get inside her, and I know with certainty that I’d die for this, to do this to her—with her—every day for the rest of my goddamn life.

“Everett…Everett…” she continues moaning as she falls down from the clouds. Body still shaking, she finally begins to loosen her grip around my head.

I kiss along her thighs as I pull back from between her legs. I pull a box of tissues from Dahlia’s desk and clean myself up, tucking my cock back into my pants and standing. Dahlia slowlypushes herself up to sit. Her eyes are bright and sated, full lips offering me a soft smile.

I grip her chin and drop my mouth to hers. Her wetness is dripping off my lips as I grasp her jaw and her mouth drops open. I gather up a mixture of my saliva and her release, and she sticks out her tongue, as if she already knows what’s coming.

I spit into her mouth.

I swipe my thumb along her bottom lip, smearing the remnants of my cum. “Tell me, Dahlia—does this taste fucking fake to you?”

Her eyes flutter shut, her delicate throat working as she swallows. “No,” she murmurs.

I close the distance between us, taking her lips gently. She whimpers, clinging to my chest as my mouth moves against hers, so soft in contrast to everything we’ve just done.

“Everett,” she whispers, pulling away. Her gaze meets mine briefly before dropping to the floor. “I don’t know if I can offer more than this. I don’t know if I’m capable of it…” She sighs, eyes fluttering upward. “I’m just… I’m really fucked up.”

Everything inside my being shatters at those words, but I force a smile anyway. Taking her face between my hands, I kiss her nose, her cheeks. I run my lips along her jaw.

She told me she’d ruin me. I told myself she’d destroy me. I should’ve fucking listened, because that one sentence wrecked me.

I move my mouth to her forehead, pressing my lips there too. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give, as long as whatever you are giving me is real.”

She nods against me, and I feel her hand tangle in the fabric of my shirt, right over my goddamn heart. I’ve known what I was getting into with Dahlia since the day I learned her name. Even if she can’t give me all of her, I can give her all of me. I don’t think anyone ever has.

But I will.

I’ll be patient, until she knows she’s safe. Her body, her heart and soul; all of her is safe with me. I can’t break down her walls with a wrecking ball, I need to pull them apart brick by brick. Each one she gives me is a gift I know she has never given anyone else. So I can be patient, no matter how bad it hurts me, because the only thing that would hurt more is losing her.

Dahlia doesn’t give her love or her trust freely, because it has always been taken for granted. All I have to do is show her I won’t. I’ll earn it, and once I have it, I’ll cherish it, starting with her trust, because she needs to know she has someone on her side.

“And if you get another note on your car—or anywhere else—you tell me immediately, okay?” I whisper against her forehead. “You don’t deal with it alone.”

She nods. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you if it happens again.”

That’s my girl.

But I don’t say it. Because she’s not mine yet. Not truly.

I am, however, irrevocably hers.

28

Wildflower

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